#but im still annoyed at you fuckers

[evocatiio]

truly hilarious watching everyone write think pieces to make the bi-regen make sense (it doesn't)

[musubiki]

how was playing hsr? was there anything that you liked in the game and the story?

ITS BEEN AMAZING AS EXPECTED!!!!!!!!! i actually havent played genshin in a while since starting it, i have no motivation to do the filler event while a perfectly good star rail is sitting there waiting to be played :')

but for mechanics, i love they have auto battle so you dont have to nessecarily sit there and invest in every little battle you gotta do....and i love that the resin (resin??) system is a lot more forgiving with a higher cap, lower cost, and allow for overflow...thats nice...i also love that the mc and starter units are very useful. im so emotionally attatched to the star rail crew so im glad they never have to leave my team !!!!

storywise im LOVING IT SO FAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i started playing it at the beginning of spring break 2 weeks ago and im almost all caught up!!! i went through belabog and penacony and now im just doing those leftover intermission main quests which im only now realizing i shouldve done before going to penacony LMAO

and of course.....danmarch....im so soft for them......and also i love sampo i cant wait to see what they do with him

[kakusboyfriend]

Sit down for a minute I need to clarify smth

Adonis and Cherry are objectively bad people and yes borderline obsessed with the object of their affections but you have to understand they are *not* yandere and I fucking hate that trope with a passion. Despite the inhuman acts of violence they commit in their stories u have to accept they'd never force or manipulate their partners. They're both the sort to annihilate an entire town for their loved ones, sure, but if the person does not want to be with them then it's fine.

If you want to make this torturous and tragic, you can say they're stories about pushing yourself to your absolute limit for someone who might not love you like that. Whatever. It's not though and they both have partners that also love them unconditionally and who would do the exact same, because I want to have fun too, but I just need to make it clear that's what I mean when I call them "obsessive"

[princekirijo]

Sorry for the Elden Ring spam this game has just consumed my entire being

[waluijoe]

not to act like a traumatized child but pple who yell or get violent/really really angry with their animals to the point where their pet shows fearful behaviours often... i wish you would stop existing for a while till you learn to self regulate without resulting to forms of violence yes thank you

[ne0ncowb0y]

The more I poke around the cyberpunk2077 fandom the more I find that yeah, I'm right. It's very clique-y. If you don't know the right people, if you don't have a certain amount of followers, you can't mod, you don't get any kind of positive interaction with the fandom. You don't deserve an in, you don't deserve eyes on your art and/or fics, you don't get anything because you're just no one, even if you've got fucking substance.

Anyway did y'all play the game? Did you understand the motifs and themes, not of V's story specifically, but about the world they live in? Just wondering

[thesoundofmadness]

damn I can't trust anyone huh

[pika-blur]

i wanna fight the core adjacent ai so bad dude uwaaah

[procrastinatingattorney]

kinda sad that going back to stuff i liked before with notoriously annoying fandoms feel mostly fine now cos its like 'yeah but i dont have to see vile takes constantly like i did with 3///h.....'

[bugmin]

sometimes i just have to tune a mfer out coz if i actually listen to what ur saying im going to kill u

[skeletonmaster69]

it is incredible how often people (unintentionally. except for the mcyt fucks who dont tag their shit those guys do it on purpose at this point) shoving a thing in my face makes me hate the thing

[luvyeni]

𐙚 : SOMEONE WALKING IN ON YOU W/ ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE (reaction) ֶָ֢ !

content warning. oral ( f. receiving ), unprotected sex, getting caught, mean dom sunghoon

request: reaction to being cockblocked with enhypen plzz 🩷?

authors note. i hope you like it 🤍😌!!!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

𐙚 : HEESEUNG ֶָ֢ !

neither one of you would notice at the moment, but will quickly question it when it's long over and you're just laying in bed — both of you fucked out completely unaware you've just traumatized someone. "sh-shit." heeseung held your thighs as you rocked your hips back and forth. "fu-fuck you feel so good -shit- please go faster." he groaned, his hand squeezing your boob as you bounced on his cock, your cunt squeezing perfectly around him , forcing a whimper like moan out of him. "shit im gonna cum." he breathed. "im gonna fucking cum." both of you were moaning and groaning, trying to chase your highs — that neither one of you noticed jake who quickly walked muttering a sorry , both of you continuing on until you reached your climax. it wasn't until you both were finished, laying against his chest watching a movie that you couldn't shake the feeling. "seung?" your boyfriend hummed, eyes still on the movie. "did someone walk in on us?" he turned to you. "i dont know." he shrugged. "why do you ask that?" you sat up. "i swear i could've heard jake." heeseung checked his phone and sure enough there was the text message 'lock the fucking door if you're gonna have sex in the dorm' he smirked putting his phone down. "well i guess he did." your face heated up. "im so embarrassed." he laughed. "baby it's fine , he probably barely saw anything." he said, kissing your temple. "i guess."

"but it would be kinda hot if he did though."

𐙚 : JAY ֶָ֢ !

it don't think jay would have sex in the dorms; let alone forget to lock the door; so it would most likely happen in the morning, and then he'd be too tired to even be really mad, but he would be a little annoyed. "jay." he sighed feeling you place kisses along his neck, his eyes that were closed; fluttering open. "i-i need you." he cursed as you guided his hand into his pants, feeling your wet cunt on his finger tips. "i thought about you." he groaned , turning to face you, slotting his thigh into between your legs. "yeah?" he watched you get off on his leg. "what you dream about princess?" you struggled to tell him ,he wasn't helping bucking thigh. "fu-fuck jay, m-more, i need you." he freed his cock from his pajama pants , ready to slip inside your warm waiting cunt. poor sunoo didn't know that, he just wanted to know if you both wanted breakfast; opening the bedroom door; jay was quick to cover your bodies , sighing heavily against your back. "hyung— sunoo knock please." he tried to not sound annoyed, but he also wanted sunoo to get the hit, and the young boy did. "i-i'm sorry." he quickly left, closing the door. "that was so embarrassing." you whined, he kissed your shoulders to soothe you.

"next time we'll just wait and lock the door."

𐙚 : JAKE ֶָ֢ !

shameless mother fucker does not care, if you're here they should know to not come inside his room. "fu-fuck jake wait." you grabbed his hair, trying to stop him from lapping at your cunt the way he was, covering your mouth to keep from moaning out. "pretty pussy taste so good." he licked your clit. "i need to taste you so more." he hooked your legs , the feeling off your legs closing around his head made his cock jump in his pants. now you two were being loud, but your moans didn't stand a chance against heeseung who had his headphones in, opening the door to see of jake wanted to play the game, only to register what was happening and turning right on his heels, walking out. "ja-jake." you pushed at the boys — who seemingly didn't even register what was happening, and kept going. "fuck, i thought you locked the door s-someone—" jake finally pulled away from your cunt , his face covered in your essence along with a cheshire like smile.

"you must've like it princess, your pretty little pussy clenched as soon the door opened."

𐙚 : SUNGHOON ֶָ֢ !

annoyed as hell, but doesn't stop; no he keeps going, you feel too good for him to stop now. "fu-fucking hell." he hissed his hands tangled in your hair, your ass bouncing back against him. "that's right, fuck yourself on me." he slapped your ass. "sunghoon fuck!" your head was thrown back as he plowed into your cunt, his balls slapping against your cunt , sweat dripping down your body as you both went at it like wild rabbits. "fucking wet cunt." he growled. "gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum." both of you were ready to cum, when the door opened, a frightened jay who heard a yelp thinking someone was hurt, quickly realized that it wasn't that type of yelp— immediately shut the door, sunghoon just fucked your poor cunt harder. "fu-fucking hell can't get any privacy in this dorm." he hissed, tears wielding in your eyes as he abused your poor cunt, he slapped your ass extra hard. "don't think i didn't feel your slutty pussy clenching around my dick when he came in."

"fucking slut, you like when people watch you being fucked past your limits."

©️LUVYENI

[rissouu]

could you do a plug! eren x reader where eren gets super overprotective 🩷

yesss ofc! im sorry this took a while i just had to get some damn motivation 😭 i been slacking.. my bad pookies!

his hands stayed wrapped around your waist as you walked through the mall, he promised to take you on a shopping spree. and right now the only thing you really needed were shoes— so foot locker it was.

it was like eren could sense all the stares you were getting, in his eyes those tiny ass the shorts you wore barely covered up anything.. (he was just being dramatic, the shorts weren’t that tiny but he still hated them.) he made a mental note to toss the shorts out as soon as you two made it home.

he tried getting you to change before you guys even arrived at the mall, but of course you weren’t going to listen to him— you never did. that’s one of the characteristics he loved about you but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

when you finally reached the famous shoe store, you couldn’t hide your excitement. you’d always been a sneaker head after all, always having the newest pair of dunks or jordan’s, a lot of people envied you because of it honestly, but oh well.

you couldn’t resist snatching out of eren’s hold and practically running towards the shoes on display. the dunks that you’d been wanting for months finally dropped, and you just had to get them before they sold out.

“ma you know how i feel ‘bout you walkin’ off on your own,” he made his way back over to you, annoyance evident on his face. eren hated when you did this, he wanted(needed) to be by your side at all times. why couldn’t you understand that?

“im sorry babyyy, i just really need to check if they have my size!” you bent over to take the shoe off the rack— completely forgetting that your shorts were the type to rise up when you did so.

you didn’t think too much about it and stayed in your current position— throughly inspecting the shoe. the color looked better online but shit, it was still cute.

eren eventually got tired of standing, he knew how you got when it came to shoes. he’d be standing there for a whole damn hour fucking with you, so he just sat down on one of the benches used to try on shoes.

he always got so bored coming to stores with you because you always tuned him out and wandered off on your own. you were addicting to shopping and even more addicted to shoes.. the only thing he could do was sit down and go on his phone, since you’d clearly be taking forever.

you were so focused on the baby blue shoes that you hardly even noticed anyone’s presence behind you, turns out one of the workers had been eyeing you for quite a while now.. waiting for his chance to make a move. your beauty caught him off guard and he knew he couldn’t let a fine thing like you just walk away.

“hello welcome, did you need help with- oh god damn..”

that was enough to finally get eren’s attention off his phone as his eyes snapped towards the scrawny dude licking his lips— enjoying the sight of your shorts working against you.

with a low chuckle your man stood from his seat, slowly inching towards you to make his presence known. he snatched you by your waist— easily causing your form to straighten out. he took his eyes off you for one second and you’re bent over with them little ass shorts on?

he had half a mind to just fuck you right here and now to let all these muh’ fucka’s know who you belong to, but luckily he had enough self restraint.

“i’ll kill you right now man, ion even play like that. better walk yo’ ass on somewhere,” eren slightly lifted his black tee— flashing his gun that was strapped on his waist. he roughly yanked you behind him so the fucker wouldn’t dare to look at you again, and the only thing you could do was let him.

not that you would’ve resited anyway, you loved when eren got aggressive like this (not that you’d ever admit it).

“o-oh that’s you? i apologize i didn’t-“

“’fuck up talkin’ to me yo, you got five seconds to walk away before i put a bullet in you.” one death glare from eren was enough to send the worker running off in fear.

you stayed silent because you knew better than to say anything when he got like this, you were in for it once you got back home.. that’s for sure.

“fuck those shoes, we’re leaving. and as soon as we get in the car i want them shorts off,”

[yoon-kooks]

seven tattoos later | jjk

🐰pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x tattooartist!reader

🐰genre: fluff, smut

🐰summary: if the hottest fuck boy in town made it a point to visit your little tattoo studio every week, how many tattoos would it take to make you fall in love with him?

🐰word count: 3.3k

🐰warnings: unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, sex on the couch, doggy, hes big and rough, lip tattoos, hickeys, lil bit of drinking, hes so annoying in this im so sorry

As you close up for the night, you look out the window and count at least four couples out for a dog walk. It’s past eight, but still warm and bright out. It’s like the sun never stops shining. Summer sucks like that.

Maybe you’d appreciate the sun a little more if you had a puppy to walk or at least a handsome guy friend to drag you outside so you aren’t just rotting away in your empty tattoo studio on a Friday night. Everyone’s apparently on vacation or getting married in Hawaii or something, so work’s been exceptionally slow this week. Fuck summer.

It’s lonely.

You might even miss Jeon Jungkook, the last person you ever expected to get along with. The first time he walked into your studio, he didn’t waste any time in hitting on you and making it painfully obvious. You were convinced he only walked in and got a tattoo that day because he thought you’d be an easy lay. 

That was around two months ago.

“What do you think would look good on me?” he’d asked while scrolling through your portfolio. You knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to take in his good looks, imagine the carved out physique beneath that leather jacket. That’s what guys like him do. And he was far from the first male client to ask you that. He wasn't special.

“I don’t know, maybe like a bunny or a duckling?” You just said the first things that came to mind—your two favorite animals. You didn’t give a flying fuck about what design would actually look good on someone you’d just met. Your icy heart definitely doesn’t warm up to people that quickly no matter how hot they are.

“Bunnies are cute,” he said without hesitation. You swear he was staring right at the dainty bunny tattoo on your collarbone. Then he tapped the top of his left hand, the one without all the other tattoos. “I’ll take one right here.” 

At the time, you didn’t think he was serious. (He was serious.)

“So, for touch-ups and stuff, it’d probably be good if I had your number, yeah?” he asked, leaning against the counter and admiring the final product on his hand. Him and his cocky ass smile. It’s annoying how hot he is. Unfair, too.

After inputting your number into his phone, you needed to make one thing very clear: “Send me a dick pic and I’ll tattoo all of your exes’ names on your forehead.”

“I promise no dick pics,” he chuckled. He must’ve taken your threat as a cute little joke. “But I would like to take you out sometime.”

For a moment, you just stared at his handsome face. Everything about him was bright and shiny. His pretty eyes, the art wrapped around his arm, that confident smile. The sun had nothing on him.

But the thing is, you knew better than to trust guys like him. They’re always saying shit they don’t mean. And you were tired of being let down by those empty words.

What would make Jeon Jungkook any different from the fuck boys who’ve burned you in the past?

You didn’t know enough about him to answer that question, but you also weren’t willing to get to know him.

It was for the best.

So after you politely declined the invitation, the boy nodded, waved farewell, and jogged out the door. At least he was decent enough to accept his fate and move right along. (He wasn’t.)

Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of him, he spun around. “See you next week for the touch-up, Y/N.”

He was still smiling like an idiot. You didn’t understand why.

“You’re not gonna need a touch-up in a week,” you shouted back as he dashed off. Fast little fucker. You doubt he heard you, but it didn’t really matter. With all those other tattoos, he already knew how touch-ups worked.

Besides, what were the odds of him showing his pretty face again after rejection? Every other client you turned down never came back. Not even for a touch-up.

You didn’t believe for a second Jeon Jungkook would be back.

A week later, he proved you wrong and waltzed right back in like you never rejected his ass. Of course he did. The week after that, he had three of your designs etched into his hand. And he just kept coming back for more, week after week.

Somewhere along the way, you learned he’s a wedding photographer, an artist like you. He’s shown you his photos a few times even after you specifically said you hate weddings. The photos were gorgeous, though. As much as weddings make you want to gag, the sweet moments he captured had the reverse effect. Somehow, you were envious of what those couples had.

You’ve also overcome the impossible task of learning to tolerate his dumb humor. It’s probably because his laugh and smile are so contagious. He won’t stop running his mouth until he sees you smile either, especially when you’re having a bad day. Your cheeks hurt whenever he’s with you.

Fast forward two months and he now has a total of seven of your tattoos. It feels weird not seeing him this week, not breathing in his woodsy cologne, not leaving your mark on his perfect skin. But you suppose that’s just what happens when the guy who’s been annoying the shit out of you suddenly goes to Hawaii. The withdrawal symptoms are kicking in. 

Your world is a whole lot quieter. It’s peaceful for once. And yet, you miss that chaotic idiot. 

Fuck summer. Fuck people who get married in Hawaii.

Your phone buzzes just as you finish cleaning up. Hopefully it’s someone who wants to book an appointment. (It’s not.)

When you read “jungcock,” you roll your eyes with the faintest smile—the perfect example of your clashing feelings for the boy.

jungcock🥴 [8:24PM] “Got time for me tonight?🫦”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “arent you supposed to be in hawaii rn?”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “and dont use that emoji ever again”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “I’d never choose Hawaii over you😌”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “(They called off the wedding)”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “🫦”

[8:25PM] [jungcock🥴 is now blocked]

[8:31PM] [You’ve unblocked jungcock🥴]

jungcock🥴 [8:31PM] “Is that a yes?”

Y/N🐰 [8:31PM] “i hate you a lot”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “Hear me out”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “What if😳👉👈 I brought snacks?”

Y/N🐰 [8:34PM] “fine”

You groan and shove your phone back into your pocket. Sometimes you wonder how you let this dork finesse his way into your life. Where did you go wrong?

Jungkook arrives at your studio ten minutes later with your favorite peace offerings—soju and pancakes. Ah yes, this is how he finessed his way to the top.

“Ooh snacks,” you hum as if you didn’t believe in his ability to pick something up on the way over. “What kind of pancakes did you get?”

“Your favorite, obviously,” he nods, handing you the warm box and a fork. There’s something about the way he crosses his arms, as though he’s just waiting to catch your reaction when you open it. Why does he look so fucking proud of himself?

“I never told you my favorite pancakes.” You raise a brow. The only thing you told him was your favorite pancake place. But they have like a million different options, ranging from classic (blueberry and chocolate chip) to fancy (tiramisu and that edible gold stuff). There’s no way he can magically guess your favorite pancake.

“Just open it.” He gives you his idea of a “playful shove” on the shoulders, which would’ve knocked you over with the pancakes if he hadn’t grabbed a hold of your wrist. He was definitely that annoying kid on the playground who chased around all the girls he had a crush on.

You mumble on about him being too rough as you open the box. To your surprise, it’s strawberries and whipped cream drenched in red syrup on top of a fat stack of pancakes—aka your favorite pancakes.

You look up from the mountain of strawberries and tilt your head at the boy like a confused puppy.

“I asked the waitress with the purple hair what you normally order,” he explains.

“Okay, but she doesn’t know me by name. How’d you describe me to her?”

He takes a few steps closer until you get a whiff of that woodsy cologne you missed so much. You feel the tips of his fingers trace along your collarbone. He’s not so rough anymore. In fact, the warm caress just barely grazes your skin, as if to tease your body. You’ve always lowkey looked forward to that tiny bit of warmth while working on his tattoos. Maybe he’s always been aware.

“I called you a cutie with a bunny tattoo.” His nose scrunches when he smiles this time, giving your skin one last poke. “She knew it was you when I showed her the one on my hand.”

Of course Jeon Jungkook walked into your favorite pancake place pretending to be your boyfriend. Of course he did something as embarrassing as showing off what appears to be matching tattoos. All for the sake of bringing you your favorite pancakes on an otherwise shitty summer night.

“Now she’ll think we have matching tattoos,” you say softly, shoving his chest. “How am I supposed to show my face in there ever again?”

“Hey, I don’t have a problem with the whole matching tattoos thing.” He puts his hands up to protect his chest from your wrath in case you’re feeling feisty. “I’ll just pick it up for you again.”

You’re not feeling feisty, so you give the boy a thumbs-up and bring him over to the couch in the back corner of the studio where you usually eat or take naps.

At long last, you stab a piece of pancake and strawberry and coat it in whipped cream before shoving it into your mouth. It’s delicious. “Is it mean if I say I’m glad the Hawaii wedding was canceled?”

“Because you’d be lonely without me here?” he teases.

“No, it’s because you bought me free pancakes, you simp,” you grin, handing off the fork to the simp so he too can get a taste of heaven. He passes you the soju in return even though you’re already feeling a little giggly.

“It’s not free,” he denies. “I’m supposed to be here for another tattoo, remember?”

After a tiny sip, you set the green bottle aside and grab Jungkook’s hand with both of yours. It looks so silly with all your tattoos surrounding the cute little bunny in the middle. He’s silly for letting you do that to him.

“I don’t think there’s any more room on your hand for another one,” you giggle. “Where am I gonna tattoo you next?”

You wonder how many tattoos he has under his clothes. Maybe he’s already got them all over the place. Then, eventually, his body will run out of space and you won’t be able to tattoo him anymore. That would suck. You kinda like his company.

“What about a lip tattoo?” you chirp, tapping on his lower lip with your index finger. When he doesn’t swat you away, you tug down on his lip ring to check for a hidden tattoo there. Nothing. “I have one.”

“You do?” His eyes immediately fall on your red strawberry lips. You pull down your lower one for him to see tiny black letters that read “bad girl.”

“My ex did it. I was supposed to tattoo ‘bad boy’ on his lip, but he chickened out,” you shrug. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Wait, I thought you can’t stand matching tattoos?” He’s such a good listener. Boyfriend material.

“I didn’t have anything against them up until that point,” you hum as you play with his wavy hair. The perm is cute on him. “But that’s basically when my perspective changed.”

That’s when you lost faith in men. When you grew to hate the idea of marriage. When you started rejecting every guy who approached you, even if he was half as hot as Jeon Jungkook.

“Well fuck your ex,” he frowns. Yeah, fuck him. No, wait. Your ex isn’t the one you want to fuck right now. “You’ve convinced me. The next tattoo I’m getting is a lip tattoo.”

“Got any design ideas for what you want there?” You climb into his lap, cup his chin with one hand, and play with his lip piercings some more. You’ve never been this up close and personal with Jungkook, but you like it. You can already feel his cock hardening beneath you through your leggings.

“Your lips,” he says without hesitation. Cheesy, but you’ll take any excuse right now to close the gap between you and him.

Just like that, something clicks in your body, and your lips just find their way to his. You’re not sure how much of it is alcohol and how much is your actual feelings for the boy, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when the kiss tastes like strawberry pancakes. It’s perfect.

You throw your arms over his shoulders as he kisses back. He’s already got his hands slipped up the back of your little tank top. 

Your hips start to roll against him.

“Should we close the blinds?” he asks against your lips. “Unless you like an audience.”

You glance at the window. The sun is finally going down, but of course people are still walking their dogs. Maybe they didn’t get the memo that it’s officially fucking hours, not dog walking hours.

Normally, you’d be all for closing the blinds and turning out the lights, but your ass is nice and comfy in his lap and you’d rather not change that. Plus the back of the couch should hide 90% of what’s going on.

You shed your tank top off and toss it onto the coffee table next to the unfinished pancakes. His big eyes flick to your lacy black bralette. 

“Let them watch.” You press your lips into his neck and suck away like a vampire. The hickeys you’re about to leave him with will have to make do as temporary tattoos for now. You’re not gonna have time to tattoo him tonight.

“You sure you want people to see you so desperate and needy like this?” he asks as you wiggle out of your leggings. His hands immediately find your ass and give it a good squeeze.

“I’m not needy,” you whine, your naughty hand feeling how large his cock is through his joggers.

“I think you’re pretty needy, Y/N.” Two fingers slip past your thong and spread the wet lust between your legs. He has the biggest smirk on his face as your body squirms to his touch. You do everything in your power to hold back a gasp. “Do you want me to fuck you that badly?”

Yes, but you’re not going to admit it. Ever.

“No way,” you answer with confidence. He helps you out of his lap and you let him prop you up on your hands and knees so he can get a good look at your ass. “This is just my way of thanking you for the pancakes since we both know you aren’t getting that lip tattoo tonight.”

“The lip tattoo can wait.” You feel your thong drop to the couch where it belongs. Two very strong hands hold you at the waist. “You’re my number one priority tonight.”

As he fills you with his cock, you’re already melting to the heat between your legs. Your weak little arms lose all their strength. You reach for your fluffy white cloud pillow to muffle your moans and let him do all the work from behind.

The tight hold he has on you is a mix of possessiveness and all the sexual tension built up over the past two months. You wonder how many times he thought about bending you over and fucking you silly in the midst of getting a cute little frog tattoo. You’ve seen the way his lustful eyes look at you during his appointments. You’re not that oblivious.

“Nice ass tattoo, by the way.” He pinches the bit of skin with two pink butterflies. You’d always regretted that one because not everyone shares the same appreciation for it, but that tiny love pinch made it all worth it. “You and your cute little tattoos.”

He slides in and out, pounding your deepest spot, and drawing a pathetic whimper from your throat every few seconds. Doesn’t help that he has a finger or two rubbing away at your swollen little clit. That’s when you realize you’ve been missing out on amazing sex for far too long. Seven whole tattoos. That’s how long it took before you gave in.

He’s already rougher now than the playful shove that nearly knocked you over earlier. Good.

This is exactly what you need after such a boring work week.

“What would you be doing now if I were taking wedding pictures in Hawaii?” His voice is getting breathier. He’s working hard out there.

“Gagging at all the romantic shit you’d be sending me.” Even if he weren’t physically there with you, you know he’d still find a way to be annoying. He’d let you know he’s still thinking of you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you gag tonight.” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s got that dumb smirk on his face. “Maybe another time. If you’re into that.”

Your response is a soft moan into the pillow. The thought of his cock shoved down your throat isn’t as repulsive as you would’ve thought two months ago. Giving head isn’t usually your thing, but you’re open to trying it with him. You’re glad he can’t see you lick your lips.

He doesn’t slow down either, instead picking up the pace and going harder. Your fingers dig into the pillow, your whole body dripping in pleasure. It feels too good.

“Mm, Jungkook,” you pant like a poor puppy with your ass up in the air. Your little clit can’t take much more of his fingers. You’re so close.

“Thought you couldn’t stand me,” he teases as you tighten around him. He’s so annoying! During sex, too. “And now you’re about to cum for me?”

“Fuck you,” you gasp as the wave of pleasure passes through you. His fingers and cock help you ride out the high. He’s lucky he’s a sweet guy with a strong sex game. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fallen for his annoying ass.

As soon as he pulls out, he flips you onto your back, staring down at you with his cock in hand. A few extra pumps along his length is all he needs to get his release and drizzle your belly with his creamy glaze.

He climbs over you to give you a soft peck on the lips. You’ve been with a lot of fuck boys before, but you can’t remember any of them kissing you once the sex was done and over with.

This boy is different.

He lets you lie there, basking in the afterglow as he searches the studio for a clean towel. When he finally gets ahold of one, he offers a hand to help you sit up and gets you cleaned up.

“All jokes aside, I’m happy you were here tonight,” you say in a tiny voice. “Fuck Hawaii weddings.”

He chuckles in his usual adorkable way. “You should come to a wedding with me sometime—when I’m not working, of course. Maybe you won’t hate them as much as you think.”

You lean in for another kiss. There’s still a hint of pancake on his tongue, but it's even sweeter. “Sure.”

The corners of his lips curve upward in satisfaction. The annoying little shit is about to jump out. You can feel it. (The annoying little shit does not jump out.)

“Now finish your pancakes,” he smiles. For once, it’s not him looking all smug and shit. And it’s really endearing.

Somehow, he just keeps proving you wrong. In a good way.

You look at your favorite pancakes on the table and wave them off. “Nah, I’m good.” Once more, you scoot your ass onto him and press a finger to his lip. “I think I like the taste of you better.”

[normansnt]

Almost got you, bitch

(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)

No warnings I think perhaps cursing

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

You were a fallen angel.

You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.

When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.

You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??

All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.

*flashback*

Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.

When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.

"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.

Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.

"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.

Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.

"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.

"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.

*end flashback*

"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.

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

When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.

"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.

"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."

"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.

"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."

"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.

"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.

"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"

"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"

"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.

"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"

"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"

"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.

"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.

Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.

The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.

Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.

"NO" you yelled

Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.

"(Y/N)...."

He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.

"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.

"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.

"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.

"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.

"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.

"What?" You asked

"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.

"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie

"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.

After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.

It was quite funny to watch.

At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.

Charlie also told his dad to stop.

You stood up from Adams body.

"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.

He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.

"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.

"I Almost got you, bitch"

Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.

"You wish, fucker"

And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.

When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.

"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"

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

Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?

Yes.

Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch

Also yes.

BUT YK WHAT.

HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.

HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[nomazee]

Silly little thing I thought of

Like like imagine dazai and the reader have been friends for years like the reader knew him since his 15 goofer era... and they got used to eachother sm they usually sleep in eachothers beds n stuff :3

LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING ON BUT THEY STILL HAVE THE FRIENDSHIP LABEL.. 🐺🤞

this concept stuck itself in my head like a tapeworm and it has not escaped me for days IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED i wrote SO MUCH for this omfg i had so much fun writing this thank u for this wonderful idea pairing: dazai x gn reader word count: 2.5k content: fluff, vignette-style writing, friends-to-lovers unspoken label type of thing, soft dazai, domestic fluff without the marriage bit, banter, idiots in love im taking requests!

===

Dazai’s toes are still as frigid at night as they were seven years ago. You, of all people, would be the best person to measure this—not in a weird way, but you two have shared a bed at least once a week since your teenage years. You know all of Dazai’s annoying sleeping habits, including his ones of sleeping without socks and digging his feet into your shins for warmth. 

Annoying fucker. You sigh, batting his arm away from its loose hold around your waist. “Get your toes off of me,” you croak out, half-conscious and mind still addled with the remains of your once-deep sleep.

“What toes,” Dazai mutters back, smacking your intervening hand away and returning his arm to its rightful place around you. “I don’t have toes. I got rid of them after puberty, ‘member?” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” You won’t, not really, and the threats have lost their edge after all these years, but it’s fun to throw at him when he annoys you like this. “I know all your weaknesses, Osamu. One wrong move and you’ll be missing more than just your toes.” 

“I’m cold, dear. Would you really let me freeze like this? So mean.” 

You try not to choke up at the nickname. He’s been a fan of those recently, at least in the last year. You think it has something to do with your new places at the Agency. New workplace, new life, and new nicknames, apparently. If you overthink it you might puke on him and fall back asleep. 

“Not cruel. We have money now, you know. Go buy yourself socks. Wool, or something. Stupid ass cold ass toes.”

He goes quiet. Even in all these years of knowing him, half-living with him, you can’t tell if it’s a normal lull in the conversation or a calculated pause. It doesn’t unnerve you as much as it used to, but there’s still a cold chill at the nape of your neck that springs up at times like these. 

“Why would I do that when I have you?” 

Dazai has also been a fan of this recently—strange uncharacteristic moments of tenderness. He peels himself back for you and bares himself raw. The implications make you nauseous. Swathed in the darkness of the night, he can’t see your fingers twitch from where they lay next to your head, away from his sight; or the conflicted expression that crosses your face. 

Easing your breath out into a steady, deep rhythm, you pretend to be asleep. It’s not like he can’t tell, but the message is there. Let’s not talk about this until the morning. Let’s just sleep for the night. Let’s keep what we have and not change it for the worse. 

==

At age eighteen, shaken with the death of his friend and haunted by blood stains on his fingers, Dazai defects from the mafia. 

He doesn’t take you with him—at least, he doesn’t mean to. He expects to leave quietly, or as quietly as blowing up Chuuya’s car can be. He doesn’t expect you to drag yourself along kicking and screaming. 

Dazai doesn’t remember much about specifics, but he knows that one day he was alone in his underground apartment and the next day you were there. The kitchen smelled like melted marshmallows and rice krispies and his dingy counter was covered in sprinkles. 

“Hi, Dazai,” you’d greeted conversationally. “I’m making your favorite.” 

He doesn’t even like rice krispie treats. Hates them, actually. 

In truth, your presence is less the result of you “kicking and screaming” and more like an after-effect of your own quiet stubbornness. Your kicking-and-screaming was done in the passive aggressive way that you cleaned his dishes and made his bed and left big trays of rice krispie treats in his fridge for the next week. 

Neither of you talked about Chuuya. It was better for you that way. 

On the first night, Dazai remembers you holding him from behind, forehead pressed into the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. He’s sensitive there despite being wrapped in his stupid scratchy bandaids. His memories for the rest of the night are overrun by a feeling of want, an itch to feel your fingers on his bare skin, a craving for your hand on his stomach to slide beneath the hem of his shirt and press into the tender skin of his abdomen and keep him warm.  

===

“Leave me alone,” you grumble from behind the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m napping.” 

“It’s not napping if you’re still awake.” 

“I wouldn’t be awake if it wasn’t for your annoying ass.” Rotating your body to face the ceiling from your place on the Agency’s couch, you sigh when your view is blocked by Dazai’s ugly stupid face. He’s smiling in that conniving way that he does when he’s about to do something super annoying. Another sigh escapes you when he leans down close enough for the overgrown ends of his hair to brush against your nose. The puff of air from your verbal discontent makes the strands sway slightly. You try not to think about how mesmerizing he looks when he’s this close, with the light from the window casting a golden sheen on the crown of his head. 

Since when did you get this sappy? Must be Dazai rubbing off on you, obviously. 

“So tired already! It’s barely noon.” 

“You came into work an hour ago. I’ve been here since eight. Try being responsible for a change, might exhaust you just as much.” 

“Hmm.” He tilts his head, big stupid shiny brown eyes blinking down at you like he’s observing a specimen. “I think I’m more than responsible enough.” 

“Sure,” you relent, turning back around to shove your face into the corner of the couch and block out the incoming light. It’s the truth—you’re exhausted. A persistent weariness permeates your bones from how much you’ve been working these last few weeks. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault in particular, not even Dazai’s despite how much he slacks on paperwork. But looming threats from enemy organizations hang over everyone’s heads and there’s no shortage of uncertainty in the Agency. It’s been mission after mission for you, and you’re taking every break you can get. 

Rustling sounds from above you, but you pay it no mind, busying yourself with nestling all of your body into the crevices of the couch and hopefully turning into a piece of furniture yourself. It might be a more peaceful life, really. The calm is short-lived when you feel fingers tap along your cheek—not in a rousing gesture, but something along the lines of placating. 

Dazai squeezes a hand beneath your head and cups the side of your face pressed against the couch, tilting it closer to him before you feel a warm press of lips against your cheek. He lingers. He always does. You can feel the gentle inhales and exhales breeze against your face before he breaks his kiss away. Your cheek is warm for more reasons than one. 

“Take care of yourself,” and oh, god, you’ll never get used to this, never get used to how tender and soft he’s become with you, never get used to how this Agency has fostered something like kindness in both of you. Your stomach stirs with something unnamed and if you were braver, you’d blink your eyes open and reach up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down to you. 

But you’re not brave, and there’s people still behind you in the office, and you wonder what led Dazai to be soft enough to kiss your face like that in front of everyone. You’re sure they’re watching you both. The Agency is full of gossips, whether they admit it or not. 

===

“Dazai,” Ango Sakaguchi grits out from behind the crackling reception of a burner phone. “They were not a part of the plan.” 

“You think I don’t know that, Ango?” Dazai replies, tone more playful than aggressive. “I know they’re not a part of the plan. They knew they weren’t part of the plan, too. But it’s too late to do anything about it. It’s just a minor change.” 

“A minor change?” Ango’s voice is strained with stress, no doubt pulling out strands of his hair as they speak. “I have to deal with not one, but now two members of the mafia defecting. Do you know how much work this was to begin with?” 

The thing is—of course Dazai knows. He knows everything. The minute he found you in his kitchen, his stomach dropped with the uncertainty of the future. Going underground with another person was nothing short of a burden, at least on paper. But, he couldn't find it in himself to think of you like that. Like a burden. 

“We’ll figure it out, Ango. If you don’t, then we will.” 

A gritty sigh sounds from the other side of the phone call. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Dazai. Don’t screw this up.” 

===

“Made you lunch. Since, obviously, you’re not gonna do that for yourself any time soon.” 

A closed plastic container is thrown on the counter in front of Dazai. He looks at it, then up at you, eyebrow raised as if he doesn’t have a clue what this could be about. He’s not that stupid, though. You of all people would know that. 

“How nice of you! Too bad I’m not hungry.” His lip juts out in a poor imitation of a pout, and he looks ugly with it. So ugly. Ugly enough to make you feel the need to kiss him all over and then slap him. An incredulous huff escapes you. 

“I don’t care if you’re hungry. Eat. It has crab in it, see, your favorite.” 

“I thought my favorite was rice krispies?” 

You freeze. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might remember that, after all this time. You don’t dwell, because that’s the worst thing to do with Osamu Dazai—dwell. 

“Don’t act stupid. Just eat it. Even if it’s not the whole thing, at least some of it. It would do you some good.” Getting serious with Dazai is one of the most awkward, unbearable things you could ever do. He has a way of making you feel stupid for worrying about him, with all his roundabout jokes and skills of evasion built up over years. You’ve found that being straightforward is the best way to avoid all those blank moments of silence. 

His fingers curl around the plastic lid and pop it open. The container is still warm, having cooked all its contents just half an hour before showing up at Dazai’s apartment with conviction in your eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll have some.” 

You bring out a duplicate container with a serving for you, and treat yourself to a juice box from his fridge. You try not to launch into a lecture at the sight of his barren pantry—that’s best done by Kunikida. The both of you eat in silence, sitting across from each other at Dazai’s dusty kitchen island. 

He only gets through a few bites before pushing the container away and complaining about how full he is. You know it’s not the truth, but it’s the mixed-up signals that his body sends him. It’s not that he’s full, but his persistent lack of appetite has caused a lot of troubles for him in the past and you don’t doubt that it’ll keep causing troubles in the future, too. 

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you tell him, dragging him up from his chair despite his whining protests. “I won’t make you shower, but you should probably do that tomorrow, ‘cause your hair’s about to get all greasy and disgusting.”

“So crude.” 

“I do my best.” 

You let him change on his own, but not before picking out a nice soft set of matching pajamas from deep inside his closet. You grumble a little in annoyance. The set was a birthday gift you got for him a year ago and that asshole pushed it to the back of his wardrobe and never touched it again. What a brat. You throw a pair of fuzzy socks at him to boot. 

Once he’s changed into proper sleep clothes, you can tell that the exhaustion is starting to hit him. He sways a little on his feet and his blinks last for a little too long, as if he’s chasing sleep every time his eyes shut. With another begrudging sigh, you set him down on the floor of the bathroom and dollop his toothbrush with fruity kid’s toothpaste—because of course that’s the only toothpaste he owns—and brush his teeth for him. 

Dazai dozes off in the middle of it, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up in the most annoying way possible. You try really, really hard to not think about how soft you’ve gotten. You’re an ex-mafia member, past coated with dark stains and entrails and death, all of those dark things. Your blood is just as black as Dazai’s, if not more. And yet, being a part of this stupid Detective Agency with this stupid man has melted you down into something parallel to good.

Don’t dwell. It’ll do you no good. 

You use a gentle grip with the toothbrush, ensuring that his delicate gums don’t tear with the force of the bristles. A warm feeling stirs in your chest. It feels like you’ve proven something, like you’ve proven to the world that your coal-stained hands can be gentle, too. You can kill and you can nurture. You tap Dazai awake with a little more care, now. 

“Rinse your mouth,” you tell him in a whisper. “Then you can sleep.” And after a pause, you add, “I promise,” because now you’re in the business of making promises to people. 

Dazai rinses his mouth, and you wipe off the remaining droplets of water from his face with a paper towel that you leave on the counter for your future self to throw out. You lace your fingers with his as you walk to his bed. Not that he needs any guiding. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just a little extra insurance, you think. 

“Stay with me,” he mumbles out the minute you lay him down on the bed. It’s a sentence, and not a question, because he’d rather die than ask you something so vulnerable. He’s doing it again—peeling himself back and baring himself raw for you. Your head swims and your vision blurs with either a migraine or with tears, you can’t tell. But your lips quirk up into a stupid smile and he sees it despite his half-lidded eyes, and he smiles back like the stupid dope that he is. 

“Yeah, of course. I’m right here, Osamu. Go to sleep.” 

And he does. Of course, not before he feels you cup the opposite side of his face and plant a warm, lingering kiss on the swell of his cheek just as he did for you weeks before. The faint laugh that he lets out before he falls asleep is enough to tell you that he’ll be making fun of you for it in the morning. For now, though, he’s soft and pliant and warm between your hands, and you sleep.