#but will only really make any sense to me and one other friend but maybe its looks oki enough thats fine idk ajdjfj

[krakereir]

Part 2 - My Best Friend's Girl (you're something else) Trafalgar Law x reader

18+ Rating: E - Sexual content. 10k. fem!reader

PART 1 HERE

They find their seats, but as Law pulls up his phone to switch it off, yes, he switches his phone off at the movies, it’s not that weird, he sees that she’s sent him a new message. A new picture. No no no no, not now. Bad idea. Unfortunately, there’s no way he can refrain from looking at it now that he knows it exists. That would be asking his imagination to fire up all his dirty fantasies right before the movie starts. He’ll just have a short peek. Who knows, maybe it isn’t even- Fuck. Law is fucked.

“So Penguin is dating Shachi,” Law says the moment Bepo picks up his call.

“Hey Law!” Bepo answers and though he sounds like his usual cheerful self, there’s a subtle, yet unmistakable nervousness to his tone of voice.

“And you knew,” Law continues.

“Well, I-” Bepo begins.

“So when I called you last week complaining about Penguin’s girlfriend-”

“Law,” Bepo pleads.

“-it didn’t occur to you to mention that he can’t have one?”

Only silence meets him at the other line.

“Why? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t my place,” Bepo explains. Law waits for him to continue and after another pause Bepo does so, albeit reluctantly. “If for any reason Penguin lied to you and said that he got a girlfriend, it wouldn’t be right to tell on him, not even to you.”

“You couldn’t even have told me that he by chance also has a sister with the same name? That it all could be a big misunderstanding?”

“Law, you’re being unreasonable. Two people can be named the same thing.”

“I know that! But-” Law sputters. “Well, it’s just- Argh!”

“I know,” Bepo says and Law could have sworn it sounds like he’s holding in laughter.

Oh, so this is funny to him?

“So when are you arriving today?” Bepo asks and Law decides to let it all go for now.

“I got off the train just now, but there’s a lot happening today, opening of the conference, dinner and probably drinks afterwards,” Law says with open disgust. Just the thought of the kind of people he’ll be forced to be congenial with is making him sick to his stomach.

“Are you still free tomorrow evening?”

“As planned I have bought our tickets for the movie at 8.30pm tomorrow.”

“You’ve booked them already?” Bepo says, now openly laughing. “Law, this is a small town, you don’t have to book cinema tickets in advance on a tuesday.”

“I know that,” Law protests, “but now we have good seats. You know I hate sitting up front.”

Bepo laughs again and all the nagging in Law’s brain has been silenced, he smiles too as he wonders how a town as unassuming and unpleasant as this one could feel so much like home.

----

In the days that have passed since Sunday, and the dramatic reveal of Penguin’s true relation to Y/N, Law has been feeling off.

Of course it was a nice surprise. He was happy to learn that she was single and very likely interested and first and foremost, NOT dating one of his best friends. Yes, it made him happy.

It just left him feeling, well, off.

Just the tiniest bit unbalanced. Ever so slightly unwell. High-strung, jumpy and a little sweaty. Totally normal bodily fluctuations that don't necessarily mean anything.

The problem was just that the situation was so… anticlimactic. In the true sense of the word.

They didn’t even kiss.

No wonder he was feeling high-strung. It’s only natural.

He didn’t manage to get even one measly little peck and the most frustrating part is that it was absolutely his fault. She threw herself at him all week and when it was revealed that he could act upon all his indecent desires, that she wanted him to, he didn’t do anything. They formally exchanged numbers and a mutual interest in seeing each other again as if they were at the end of a fucking job interview. But really, what else could he have done with the threat of Penguin constantly looming over them like a hawk?

Still, he can’t shake the feeling of having lost his chance. Why couldn’t he have made a bolder move when he had her right there? She had basically confessed to seducing him.

Law would be lying if he said that it didn’t still drive him crazy just to think about that part.

Especially now when it’s early in the morning and he finds himself hundreds of miles away in a tiny hotel room with the blinds down and his hand down his pyjama pants, lazily jerking himself off, wishing he had her at the other side of the wall again.

Looking back on last week, Y/N’s actions are even more arousing now that she has confirmed that it was all for him. It was all to seduce him.

He’s jerked off to the memory of her sounds so many times that his fantasies have practically overwritten his memories by now. He finds it difficult to differentiate between what really happened and what he later has made up in a daydream, attempting to fill in the blanks. It’s still effective material, but when he knows that the real thing might be within his reach it ends up lacking.

He slows down the pace even further to make himself last longer. He knows the climax will be nice, but again, lacking, and as long as he keeps it at bay, his pent-up mind half-way believes that it’s not his own hand making him come.

In his head, he can see how pretty she would be underneath him. He would take it slow and she would complain. She would be so fucking needy. Maybe she would try pushing his buttons to provoke him. Shove and hit and pull and bite. She would bite him hard and he still wouldn’t budge. Then when the time was right, he would-

Beep beep, be-be-beep beep, beep beep

Fuck.

He forgot to turn the alarm off when he woke.

The annoying melody drags him down from his high, unfortunately skipping the release, and he regrets dragging out the climax, but finds himself depressingly indifferent to whether he reaches it or not.

With a groan he grabs his phone to turn it off, but as he does he sees something that brings back all the excitement and more to spare.

Two new messages. One text and one… picture.

Y/N When are you coming back?

It’s so simple, so casual and really could mean nothing at all, but then the picture beneath loads.

It shows her face and naked shoulders lit up by an early beam of sunlight. She’s lying on a bed with two fingers stuck in her mouth as if she’s licking something off of them. It’s a beautifully filthy picture. So subtle in its suggestiveness that it in turn becomes pornographic, offering everything up to imagination, but with a subtext clear as day.

Law can’t deny the grin spreading on his face at the sight, he wouldn’t want to. He collapses back on the bed, phone in his hand, and finishes what he started, swiftly and passionately.

----

One day earlier

When Y/N wakes up in her own apartment for the first time in a week, it’s a disappointment. It feels like waking up from a very pleasant dream to see that your everyday is bleak and lonely in comparison. What she priorly thought of as a quite pleasant apartment now seems boring. And empty.

She feels defeated. She had the chance of a lifetime, a week living in the same apartment as the boy of her dreams with her neurotic brother way out of the picture. She had 6 whole days and still she couldn’t bag him.

She shakes the disappointment away and gets up, getting in the mindset of a new day. A new, normal day. It’s not so bad.

She works part time in the small, independent camera shop where the pay is as bad as the people are nice. In the beginning she was hired to help them move the bookkeeping to a digital system and keep up the website, but as the years went by business declined horribly and now there’s only a handful of employees who haven't left for where the grass is greener, so the manager needs her help with a lot more. She likes that it’s varied, but it’s not as flexible as it used to be when she mostly did digital work.

Once upon a time her friends and family were shocked when she told them she would become something as mundane as an accountant, but to her it was never a hard decision. At least you can do bookkeeping from Bali. And it’s a pleasure to keep an independent shop afloat, albeit barely.

Today she’s been more restless than usual and the last couple of hours before they close she’s left alone to tend the shop, which means that instead of being cooped up in the dark room, which she is partial to, she has to stand up front at the cashier, which she finds horribly boring.

No one has come by in almost an hour now and she’s starting to consider leaving a note and going out back again when the doorbell tells her that someone’s entered the shop. She looks up to see-

“Shachi! What are you doing here?”

“Pen mentioned that you were working today, so I thought I’d stop by,” he grins. “He recommended that I come see it before it goes out of business and you lose your job.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” she teases back. “I’m closing up in 40 min, do you want to wait and then grab a bite?”

“Nah, I don’t have much time. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Well, it’s not much,” she says, gesturing to the one room shop they’re in, “but it’s a lot more fun than other jobs I’ve had.”

“I didn’t know you were into photography.”

“I guess I have developed an interest as a result of working here,” she explains. “It surprised me, but I actually like the service work too. I mostly do digital bookkeeping, so I have been able to keep the job even when abroad.”

“You are a very fascinating person,” he says.

“Not any more than you,” she counters. “How are things? Has the school-year begun yet?”

“Last week,” he confirms. “I’m setting up a volleyball tournament to get the kids excited. It’s fun to see them flail around.”

“And how’s my brother doing?” she asks with a comical wiggle of her eyebrow.

“He’s fine,” Shachi shrugs, but a slight, pinkish tint appears over his cheeks. “It’s nice to have the apartment to ourselves, with Law gone this week.”

The silence that follows is filled with the awkwardness of indirectly bringing up both her brother’s and her own sex life in the same sentence, and none of them manages to find anything to say. A customer comes into the shop and hands her a film roll, pays and leaves.

“Are any of these yours?” Shachi asks when they’re alone again, gesturing to the photos on the wall behind her.

“No no no,” she protests. “I could never. Besides, the photos I like to take aren’t the kind you hang on the wall.”

“I see,” he says, smirking. “Have you sent any to Law yet?”

She shakes her head. “Do you think I should?”

“Yes,” he says in all seriousness.

She stops abruptly.

“Really? I- uhm, are you sure? I don’t want to presume-”

“If you want to make him lose his mind, you absolutely should.”

“You’re not messing with me, right? I don’t want to scare him away. He seems so… respectable?”

“I see your concern,” Shachi says, “and if you want to take things slow, you should.”

“But?”

“If you want to seduce him, you should send him the most desperately horny pictures, but show minimal nudity. Trust me, he’s depraved, but prudish at the same time. He loves that convoluted shit.”

“Hmm,” she contemplates it. “You gave me great advice last time. If it weren’t for the fact that he did his best to keep away from me, I’m pretty sure it would have worked.”

“It did work! He’s hooked, you just need to reel him in.”

“You’re horrible, you know that? You enjoy this way too much,”

“Maybe,” he snickers. “Well, I have to go now. Have a good one!”

“Thanks for stopping by!”

----

At the end of the second day of the conference, Law is already sick of it. He can’t stand the thought of even one more quarter of an hour in the presence of his colleagues. He even had to forgo his usual, most-needed 3 o’clock coffee, simply to avoid the flock of assholes surrounding the machine and the conversation they most-likely would trap him in.

But now the day is over and he can finally get to the whole reason for this extraneous trip in the first place. The beam of light in the darkness. The only reason Law even said yes to this horrid idea of a 5 day conference: it happens to take place in the same town where Bepo is doing his residency.

Despite only being 3 hours by train, he hasn’t gotten to see him much at all lately and getting one or two nights with his best friend is worth all the stuck up academics he needs to refrain himself from smacking.

They meet downtown after Bepo is done with his shift, have chinese and then a glass of wine before wandering through the small centre of town, waiting for the movie.

“You seem very happy,” Bepo says, his brows furrowed, as if happiness is a rare disease Law has contracted.

“I’m not,” Law argues, “this conference is at my personal 4th circle of hell.” He keeps his voice level, but the corners of his lips lift up on their own and he can’t make himself mad at it.

“I’m so happy for you!” Bepo exclaims and Law wonders if Bepo ever really listens to what he says.

“It’s nothing big, it’s just-” Law begins before he knows how much he actually wants to reveal. “It’s just that I might have met someone.”

Bepo’s eyes get huge with shock and his smile widens even more. "Does this have something to do with Y/N?"

Even though Law already had called Bepo to berate him for not telling him that Penguin has a sister, he had refrained from mentioning anything concerning his indecent desires about said sister, but it seems that Bepo had already put two and two together.

“It might,” Law answers with a sigh.

“I knew you two would hit it off!” Bepo exclaims. “Hadn’t it been for Penguin, I would have insisted you two meet a lot sooner.”

“I’ve been wondering about that. Shachi hadn’t even met her, so when did you meet her?”

“Oh, she moved apartments last year. Shachi was away and Penguin didn’t want to invite you, so he asked if I could help out. She’s so sweet!”

“I didn’t think Penguin would be the type to be overprotective of his sister.”

“He’s not.”

“Oh yes, he is,” Law insists.

“He’s overprotective of you,” Bepo says and Law’s mind screeches to a halt.

“… what?”

“He doesn’t want her to steal you away from him,” he explains. “Apparently, she’s kind of a flirt.”

Law chooses not to comment on that.

They find their seats, but as he pulls up his phone to switch it off, yes, he switches his phone off at the movies, it’s not that weird, he sees that she’s sent him a new message.

A new picture.

No no no no, not now. Bad idea.

Unfortunately, there’s no way he can refrain from looking at it now that he knows it exists. That would be asking his imagination to fire up all his dirty fantasies right before the movie starts. He’ll just have a short peek. Who knows, maybe it isn’t even-

Fuck. Law is fucked.

The picture is arousing alright.

She’s splayed out on a couch, dressed in only a loose robe that has slipped off her leg, showing off skin all the way up to her hip bone and large parts of her outer thigh. The picture’s taken from above her head so her face isn’t in the frame, but her one naked shoulder is. The fabric hanging loosely off it barely covers the left part of her chest and he’s sure he can see the darker skin of her areolae just beyond the hem of the robe and the hand that isn’t holding the phone is casually resting on her thigh, fingers reaching ever so slightly into the robe on their way to do god knows what and Law is turned on like a light switch.

His cheeks flame up with heat and he grips his phone harder as he struggles to turn it off before someone else sees what’s on it. Then there’s the humiliating task of positioning himself so that there’s as little friction as possible between the coarse material of his tight jeans and his very unwelcome erection.

At his side Bepo looks at him worriedly and seems like he’s about to say something, but then the commercials come to an end and the light goes down in the theatre. Law takes deep breaths, forcing himself to push all indecent thoughts away and when the familiar theme music of Sora, warrior of the sea: Encounter of Kings blast out of the speakers, he feels confident that he will succeed.

That’s when Pink Poison takes the screen. Dressed in a sheer nightgown she kills 5 soldiers. With her mouth.

Law is so fucked.

----

Bepo lives on the outskirts of town in student housing and has to get up early the next day. When the movie ends, Law walks him to the station and they say goodbye. Maybe they’ll manage to see each other once more before Law leaves, maybe not. Right now though there’s only one thing on his mind and the moment Bepo’s bus drives off, Law calls up Y/N.

“You ruined Sora,” he accuses her when she picks up, but despite his stern tone, he’s sort of smiling.

“Law?”

“Your actions have consequences you know.”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t understand at all,” Y/N says. “What are you talking about?”

“The pictures,” he explains painstakingly.

“Ohhh.” There's a pause before she continues, “so you did get the pictures.”

He swears that he can hear her smirk.

“Yes, I got the pictures,” he says.

“Well, you didn’t answer, so I wasn’t sure,” she explains. “I thought maybe the first one didn’t go through, so I sent one more.”

It hits him that he didn’t even think about answering her pictures, despite having masturbated to them, twice. That’s not only embarrassing, but blatantly disrespectful. Not to mention frightfully uncool.

“Well… did you like them?” she asks and her amusement is obvious.

“That’s besides the point!” he sputters.

“So what you’re saying is that you’re mad you had to sit through a movie with a boner?”

“I’m mad that I missed 10 minutes of it when I was forced to do something as downgrading as relieving myself in a cinema toilet.”

It just spills out of him and the moment he admits to this out loud he’s struck by regret.

“What?” she exclaims in shock, then a laugh follows, so loud he has to pull the phone away from his ear. “Why didn’t you wait it out?” she asks.

“I couldn’t,” he mutters, cursing himself for continuing on this degrading and embarrassing subject.

“What do you mean you couldn’t?”

“The movie was sexy, okay?” he whispers reluctantly into the microphone.

“‘Sora, warrior of the sea’ was too sexy?” she asks, now cackling even louder.

“It wasn’t a problem the last time I saw it, so obviously it’s-”

“Law, hold on.”

He freezes at the change in her tone.

“You’ve seen it before?”

“Well, yes. Once, but-”

“You’re blaming me for making you miss 10 out of 200 minutes you’ve seen before?”

“... yes.”

“Law, do you want me to stop with the pictures?” she asks and it’s a straightforward question, free from teasing and flirting.

“Of course not,” he says, without even thinking.

“Then I won’t,” she says simply. With a short chuckle she adds, “Sorry about Sora.”

“I forgive you,” he says genuinely before realising that she wasn’t actually that sorry. She laughs loudly again.

“You are really something, Trafalgar Law.”

Law doesn’t know what to say.

“Call me again soon,” she says and with that, she hangs up.

He’s left dumbstruck.

Then his hands move on their own and before he knows it, he’s pulled up the message log with the pictures. Looking at them now, they’re quite tame. Not that they’re bad, the very opposite actually, they’re good pictures. The composition and lighting enhances its subject in a very… flattering way. It’s just that they’re not as risque now at a second glance. It’s embarrassing to think that this was all it took to rile him up so thoroughly.

He still saves them to his phone.

Then he sends off a text.

LAW I’m coming back on the 10th.

After a second of contemplating he sends off another one.

LAW I really like the robe.

Compared to how much he enjoyed the pictures, it’s a weak compliment, but he can’t get himself to be more explicit. Being sexy in person is hard enough, the pressure of being sexy over text is terrifying.

And he does like the robe. He really, really likes the robe.

Y/N Come see me on the 10th? LAW Okay.

He cringes at how indifferent he sounds, but doesn’t dare to write anything more, afraid to make an even bigger fool of himself.

----

Y/N I think the pictures worked! I kept it very subtle, but he even called me to complain about them. That’s a good sign, right? Shachi complain how? Y/N That he got too horny I think? I didn’t really understand, but he was sort of annoyed that he was out in public when he saw it. Shachi amazing!! your on the right track next step is leave him wanting more! if you want to send more pictures, make sure they’re not as desperate as the ones you started with Y/N I can’t say I understand, but I trust you wholeheartedly. Shachi update me l8er Y/N Say hi to Pen for me Shachi he says hi back! Y/N Really? Shachi actually he says “stop texting my bf, homewrecker” Y/N That’s more like it.

----

By the time Friday rolls around, Law has been to 4 boring dinners, 1 slightly fascinating lecture, 3 frightfully bad ones and 1 disgustingly opulent fundraiser. He’s gotten 5 new pictures from Y/N and masturbated a lot more times than he wants to count.

He’s spent.

Really, he can’t remember the last time he was this exhausted and he regularly does 12 hour shifts.

He got sick of the group of academics he’s travelling with already at the first lunch, they’re all terrible conversationalists. He’s used to zoning out the long monologues and self-praising around these guys, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying.

Tonight is the goodbye dinner and he would pay good money to get out of it, but alas, his boss is one of the worst of the bunch and Law can’t afford pissing him off more than he already has. One can say Law has toned down his punk attitude since his manifesto-creating-days and is now what you can call a typical 30-year-old sell out on the cusp of his big break, who very well knows the importance of pampering important men with big egos.

She would laugh at him if she were here.

He hasn’t called her since that day. She did tell him too, but he figured it would be too much. What would he even tell her, how many more times he’s masturbated to the thought of her since last they spoke? No, thank you.

The pictures were a blessing at first, a welcome escape from his personal hell, but lately every new message he receives is like an additional ball and chain around his foot, reminding him of exactly what it is he doesn’t have. They’re still very modest, but paired with the knowledge of how she sounds when she chases her climax, it’s awfully effective even so.

The more she sends him, the more starved he feels.

----

Y/N I think I fucked up Shachi shit what did you do? Y/N Just what you told me to! But he hasn’t called me again and he’s not responding to the pictures, it’s been like 2 days since he replied maybe he’s disappointed by the new ones? They are a lot less horny than the first Ahhh, now I just feel stupid I’ve spent hours taking these photos, Shachi… HOURS Shachi nooo but honestly it sounds like hes only being his regular loser self and doesn’t know how to text but if you really feel like your losing him you could try to amp up the heat a little gtg now but good luck!!!!! update me l8er

Amp up the heat, huh?

----

“Trafalgar! Are you married?”

Just when Law believed he could go through the whole week without answering questions about himself, one of his colleagues had to learn just a smidge of common decency in the nick of time and ask him a question.

“No, I am not,” he answers simply.

“Thought so,” the other man grunts. “None of you youngins are able to keep a job and a girl at the same time. In my time…”

Bla bla bla.

At least Law won’t be forced to answer more questions for a while now that the “When I was young”- monologue has begun.

He subtly glances down at his phone and sees that he’s received 1 new message and 3 new photos from Y/N in only the last 30 minutes. He knows he should wait until he’s back at his room to have a look, but he can’t help himself. Something nice for his inner eye to look at is exactly what he needs to survive this dinner and none of the latest pictures have even come close to being as explicit as the first two, so he figures he’ll be fine.

He opens the app and the first thing he sees is that she’s sent him her address and an invitation to come to her when he gets back. Then he slowly scrolls up to see the new pictures and-

… Law flatlines.

“Trafalgar! Are you alright?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boy.”

He locks his phone and looks up to see everyone around the table looking at him in a mix of confusion and curiosity.

“I have gotten some disturbing news,” he says slowly and doesn’t even have to pretend to act shocked. “If you will excuse me.”

On the way out of the restaurant he grabs their waiter, pays his share and gives her a weighty tip, while asking her to communicate to his dinner companions that he was forced to leave in the case of an emergency.

30 minutes later he’s checked out and on his way to the train station. He gets to his platform just in time to see the last train roll into the station and he thanks the lord above, who he doesn’t believe in.

4 hours later he’s at Y/N’s address.

----

“Hi.”

“Law,” she greets him, a slight indication of a smile on her lips, as if she’s considering whether to laugh or not.

“Hi,” he says again, softer.

“Why are you here?” she asks.

“It’s the tenth,” he says and holds up his arm to show her his watch. It shows 00.42.

“So it is,” she chuckles softly in surprise.

“And you asked me to come,” he says, slightly short of breath, “on the tenth.”

“I did do that,” she says, almost in a whisper.

The silence is loaded with everything unspoken. He catches her glancing down at his mouth. She catches him trailing her figure with his eyes.

“So, did you want to come in?” she asks, as if he was just a normal guest ringing her doorbell on a normal day, not the man she’s been thinking about constantly the last two weeks ringing her doorbell in the middle of the night.

“Please,” Law says. He too almost succeeded in sounding completely normal.

When she lets him in, it dawns on her what this means, having him here, now, in her apartment. The embarrassment seeps into her as the overwhelming shock of seeing him again settles.

“I didn’t expect-” she says, with a slight stutter.

She was going to shower, she was going to shave, she was going to take out the trash blocking the doorway and she was going to clean up the multiple bowls of old, soggy cereal on the kitchen counter. He was not supposed to come before-

“Y/N,” he says in a quiet, breathy voice. He speaks so close to her ear that she feels a tingling down her spine. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, I just-”

He stops himself mid-sentence and she looks up to see why. In the dim light of the corridor, his eyes almost look black. They’re still golden, but now they’re dark, like petroleum, like oil, and she could simply drown in those eyes. What a terrifyingly sweet death. She would let him drag her down into the sticky black goo of delicious tar in a heartbeat.

“Y/N?” he repeats, for the first time tonight with a smile.

“Ye- Yes,” she says, a small chuckle escaping her at how utterly stupid she must look and the fact that she simply does not care. She doesn’t even care about the two bags of trash at their feet. She doesn’t care about her greasy hair, about being sweaty and dirty. This is the best thing that could have possibly happened tonight.

“Am I interrupting?” he asks.

She nods before she can register what he was saying and a prominent line draws down over his brow in worry.

“I am?” he asks. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Law,” she coos and without even thinking, she lays a reassuring hand on his cheek, her fingertips gracing the soft strands of his hair. “It’s good to see you.”

He eases up under her touch, ever so slightly even leaning into it.

“Likewise,” he murmurs.

“Would you like to stay the night?” she asks, not really sure why, it’s really way too late for him to go anywhere else, but it does feel right to ask. It lets her reveal that she really wants him to.

“I would,” he admits, a shimmer of amusement in his eyes. “And would you like it if I kissed you now?” he asks her in a low murmur.

She gives him his answer by running her hand further into his hair, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him towards her slowly.

Firstly, their noses meet for a second. It’s only a small colliding of noses, but it breaks the ice and makes what comes after seem easier.

Secondly, their foreheads touch. A touch that is not innocent, but rather heavy and solid. A meeting of two minds, aching for connection.

When their lips finally meet it’s slow, but more than that, it’s deep. It’s as if they just skip past the first stages of a first kiss and instead swiftly fall into the hungrily unabashed type of kiss, slowly and meticulously tasting each other. They fit together like they were always meant to be doing this.

The sizzling chemistry between them does not crystallise itself in a fit of passion, but rather as an all-consuming void. A black hole swallowing their whole world and opening up the pathway to something completely new. Something scary, but exciting.

But with him, there’s no need to worry. It feels like she’s been kissing him for years and she knows exactly what to do. Even though it's scary to feel as if she’s being swallowed down into a hole of nothingness, it feels as if they’re going down together. She doesn’t doubt for even an instant that he will follow her.

“Thank you,” Law manages to say in between kisses.

“For what?”

“For- Fuck, the pictures. Thank you for the pictures.”

“You’re very welcome,” she grins into the kiss.

“But also for being so…”

“So?”

“So… Ehm, it’s just, I’m not a brave person, Y/N,” he begins while she places a trail of kisses down his neck and behind his ear. “Ahh- I- Well, I find these things difficult. And it might have been a lot harder if it weren’t for the fact that you’re so…”

“So…?” she repeats, absolutely teasing him for his ramblings.

“So fearless.”

“What-?” she protests, smiling wide from the flattery, but too embarrassed to do anything else than pull away from him and hide her face.

“So easy to want,” he further explains, cupping her face with both his hands and chasing her back to steal just one more kiss before he adds, “So kind.”

Y/N simply looks back at him for the longest couple of seconds before she can’t contain herself anymore. She needs him. She firmly grips a hold of his jacket and starts dragging him up the short flight of stairs.

Law makes an undignified yelp at being hauled away and he momentarily halts them both in an attempt to take off his outerwear. She tries to drag him with her despite it and he almost loses his balance.

“My shoes-?” he asks, in a way of explaining why he can’t just let himself be dragged inside.

“Leave them on, throw them away,” Y/N suggests hastily, letting go of the grip and disappearing into the bedroom. “I don’t care about the shoes! Just come here.”

“Yes,” he adheres blindly and follows her shortly after.

She waits for him by the edge of the bed and has begun slowly pulling off her sweater. He rushes to reach out and wrap his arms around her when her arms are lifted and the skin of her torso is exposed. As her face appears again from under the fabric, he kisses her lips softly, lazily.

“Y/N,” he moans.

“I need you so badly,” she murmurs back into his lips.

“Tell me more, please,” he begs her.

“About how much I need you?” she asks with an insolent grin.

He nods, his eyes are droopy and fluttering closed as he touches her, kisses her.

“So much,” she breathes out. “I need you so much, Law, I can hardly-”

She interrupts herself when she drops down on the bed and unexpectedly lands on something cold and mysterious. From under her ass, she pulls out sheets of paper- Oh fuck. The fucking comics. She doesn’t even know why, but that’s so embarrassing.

“Oh, these,” she says, not having a clue what she’s going to say, “I borrowed these from the library, just-”

“It was so fucking hot,” he groans and follows after her down on the bed. He takes the comics out of her hands and carefully slips them down on the floor. Then he pulls her over in his lap and grinds up against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “All the pictures were, but- those last ones with the comics and the- Oh, fuck, it was so sexy.”

“Really?” she almost whines, shocked by both his enthusiasm and at the sparks of pleasure shooting up in her at the way he ruts against her.

“I couldn’t help myself, I just had to jump on the first train,” he pants. “Only for you. Because I need you too. So much.”

“Fuck, Law, we need to,” she sighs, “we need to hurry. Off with these. Now.”

“Yeah?” he asks, not speeding up the touches, but actually slowing down and not making any move to remove any of his clothes either. “Are you impatient?”

There’s been a change in him. She couldn’t say when, but at one point he grew confident and now, he’s teasing her.

“Come on,” she orders, “this is not the time.”

He smirks, it’s small and subdued, but so free. It makes her want to smile along and join whatever he’s got planned, but Y/N has an agenda and Law getting fired up with teasing her is not a part of her plan.

“It’s not funny,” she says, trying to sound stern and failing.

“It is actually funny, Y/N,” he argues, “because I knew you’d be like this. All week, while you’ve been teasing me with your pictures, I have spent every waking minute thinking of ways I wanted to tease you back, when I finally got my hands on you.”

“Oh fuck, really?” she asks, getting warm at the thought.

“I knew you’d be so easy to rile up,” he murmurs as he embraces her to unclasp the bra at her back. When he finally gets it to work and pulls the fabric off of her, he lets out a satisfied groan. He starts kissing her chest, gently cupping her breasts with his large, warm hands.

“Oh, these are-” he moans and then his words get muffled as the kisses turn into small, tender nibbles and then an insistent sucking, “mmmh…”

Y/N can’t help the self-consciousness seeping through her pleasure and making her tense.

“They’re not that- I mean, I know that they’re-”

“No, they’re so perfect,” Law interrupts, pulling back to look up at her. “I love them.” He looks so wasted, so far gone. It puts her at ease.

“You think?”

“You are made for me,” he whispers, before once again putting his hot mouth on her nipple, giving it a light tug and releasing it.

“So are you going to give me more?”

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles, cupping her breasts and now even massaging them gently, taking a lot of pleasure in every squeeze. “I’m giving you so much already.”

“You know what I want,” she challenges him, her voice weak and breathless, but he ignores her.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs to himself, burying his face into the crook of her neck again, taking a long whiff of her scent.

Her head falls against his shoulder. She’s giving in to his teasing, revelling in the pleasure she gets, the way his touch feels so feverish and tingling against her skin. She does her best to just enjoy that and to put off all thoughts of what more she wants. She tries her best to just stay in the moment with him, not get impatient and definitely NOT start to beg or anything of the sort. But alas, she can’t help it.

“Please fuck me,” she whimpers before she can stop herself. “I just want you to fuck me hard, Law.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, but there’s no warmth in his reassurement, only vicious satisfaction at her weak state. “Begging already? You couldn’t wait any longer? I must say I’m almost disappointed. So impatient, but still so docile.”

She groans in frustration and gently tugs at his sweater to get him to take it off.

”Uh-uh,” he says. “You first.”

He undresses the rest of her and when all that’s left is her underwear, he lets her pull the sweater off over his head along with the t-shirt underneath. When Y/N lays her eyes on his naked chest and shoulders, it’s like she’s equipped with new energy. She takes charge and pounces, pushing him down on the mattress and keeping him there with force as she straddles his hips.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about these,” she says, letting a nail scrape against a line of his chest tattoo. Law inhales sharply, clearly affected by her newfound initiative.

She keeps tracing his tattoos with a faint touch and he responds instinctively, arching his back and lifting up to meet her touch, to get her to do more.

“Fuck, I just love your tattoos, Law,” she whispers, currently following the markings on his left arm, then all the way out to his fingers. She continues exploring the tattoos, but now with her mouth. Greedily, she takes three at a time, letting her tongue circle around each finger.

“Y/N,” he warns, sounding utterly weak.

She hums and buckles her hips down against his’, making him curse. At once she lets go of his hand and she leans over to meet him, face to face.

“Miss being in control?” she asks, teasingly. “Is that it?”

“No,” Law scoffs.

“I don’t believe you,” she sing-songs.

“So now you want to tease? I thought you were getting impatient?” he asks, obviously trying to get back in the driver’s seat. She isn’t going to let him.

“I think you’re very uncomfortable with giving away control,” she says, tenderly placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth, “but I also think it makes you even more turned on when someone takes it from you.”

Law manages to laugh, but it’s a hollow laugh, only made to conceal that what she’s saying is right. That the way she’s holding him down and taking the reins, is simply making him go insane.

“I am not going to deprive you of that depraved lust, baby,” she whispers, grinding down on him once more. “I’m going to shower you in it. I’m going to take care of you.”

“Y/N,” he moans.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Just give it to me,” he sighs. “I’ll take it all.”

She laughs. “Oh, how the tables have turned,” she teases, “but now it’s your turn to wait.”

“Please,” he begs, “I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying, Law,” she says, fondly caressing his forehead. “You’re living.”

“Ah,” he sighs. “It’s exhausting.”

While she strips him naked, he’s mostly quiet. A soft gasp here and there as her nails scrape against his skin or as she leaves an unexpected kiss along his thighs.

The last item of clothing she removes is the black boxers, keeping his very hard dick encaged in the tight fabric. She’s already noticed that it’s big, that it would be more than satisfying. She’s caught herself biting her lip in suspense just looking at the outline of it, more times than one. He’s probably caught her a few times too.

But when she actually strips the boxers off him and it bounces against his stomach in its natural state, she can’t help but widen her eyes at the sight.

“Shit, you are big,” she murmurs in surprise.

“Yeah, uhm, well,” he begins, shifting uncomfortably up to lean against his elbows, “it can be a bit much.”

She swallows hard, feeling excitement bubbles inside her at the thought and wondering just what “a bit much” would entail.

“Do you have any lube?” he asks. Suddenly he’s back to being uncomfortable and anxious, avoiding her gaze.

“Sure,” she says, moving closer to him and picking up his hand, “but I don’t think we’re going to need any.”

Then she leads his hand to push past the edge of her underwear and into the pooling wetness that lies beyond.

He inhales sharply when the tips of his fingers easily slide deeper into her, lubricated by one simple touch.

“Fuck me,” he gasps, “that’s incredible. You are fucking incredible.”

She recognises that if there’s one time where it’s appropriate for her to take control, it would be now. Even though Law’s eyes are clouded with lust from feeling her wetness with his own fingers, he still looks unsure of how to proceed. She would guess that he’s had multiple bad experiences with feeling guilty from hurting people during sex with his big, fat dick. Y/N would laugh if he didn’t look so distraught.

“Are you clean?” she asks, pulling off his panties.

He nods slowly.

“Me too,” she tells him, “and I’m on contraception.”

“What are you saying?” he asks.

“I guess I’m asking you if you would mind fucking me without a condom?”

Law’s jaw goes slack, then he nods.

“So you would mind?”

“What? No, I mean, no, I wouldn’t mind,” he corrects himself, his cheeks flaring up.

“Ok?” she asks as she takes a hold around his dick

“But shouldn’t we-” he begins.

“Just let me give it to you,” she reassures him, finding her place on top and lining herself with him.

“Are you sure?” he asks through gritted teeth as the head hooks into her entrance and the tip enters her.

“Yes,” she gasps at the delicious stretch, “I’ll take care of it. Just give me a minute before you do anything.”

“Fuck,” he curses, “yeah, ok.” He does his best to control his breathing as she begins sinking down.

He’s warm. And of course big. Girthy. She’s overwhelmed just from taking a little part of him.

“It’s not that bad,” she gasps, “just a little more time and I’ll be opened up and-”

That’s when the stretch becomes almost too much. She shifts her knees in order to lift herself up again ever so slightly, but then her knee lands on something slippery under the covers that makes her thigh glide further away.

In an attempt to keep herself upright, she tries leaning forward with her hands planted on his chest, but at the same time, Law lunges forward too, trying to grab her hips to keep her from falling and-

She slams down on his hips and he bottoms out into her, going deeper than she’s ever felt anything before.

“AHh, fuck.”

He groans at the long-awaited friction while she whimpers at the overwhelming stretch, painful and pleasurable at the same time.

“I’m so, so, sorry,” he begins. He takes a hold of her hips and tries to help her off him, but she won’t budge. She’s frozen, clinging to his torso with all she’s got.

“Y/N, get off,” Law orders, but it’s clear that it takes him a lot of restraint to utter those words, “I’m hurting you.”

“No,” she groans, “no, we have to stay like this for now.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s just so good, I can’t-” she gasps for air. Then she moves her hips in the slightest buckle and lets out a moan.

“Oh fuck,” Law groans, automatically gripping her hips in an attempt to get more movement out of her.

“Don’t move,” Y/N orders.

“Of course not,” Law croaks. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it.”

“I just need this for a little bit,” she murmurs, once again grinding down very gently and very controlled, drawing out a frustrated whine from Law.

Oh. That’s nice.

She wants to hear it again, so she does it once more. It’s really too much for her, but it gives her just what she wanted. His groans are so deliciously arousing and she begins rocking in a constant movement to keep them coming.

“No, this is no good. You’re hurting,” he says and stops her movement with a firm grip around her waist. “Let me.”

There’s something in his voice that makes her turn compliant again and she lets him lead her off him and down to lie on the mattress. He pulls out another comic from under the sheets, presumably the cause of her little slip up. She whines in disappointment, already aching at the loss of him inside her, but then she feels a touch at her entrance again and quickly after a finger plunges deep into her.

Even though the pressure from one single finger is lacklustre compared to what she just experienced, the swift motion makes sparks fly all the way up to her ears.

“Again,” she begs.

He complies, but he must have added another finger already because the pressure increases, giving her a new type of shock.

“I’m done teasing you now,” he murmurs softly, “this is purely practical. Now that I’ve felt you all the way, I can’t help myself. I need to open you up as quickly as possible, so that I can fuck you hard, just like you asked me to.”

His words send a jolt through her stomach in time with his fingers sliding back in. This time, though, he keeps them there and slowly begins pulling her open from the inside, stretching her good. Then he pulls them out to an indignant groan from her.

“Y/N. Lube,” he orders.

“In the drawer,” she pants, “the nightstand.”

When his fingers return, they’re colder.

“You can take one more, right baby?” he asks softly. “You can take three of my fingers?”

“Yes,” she insists.

She can. Three whole fingers are stuffed into her and when he somewhat curls them, deep inside of her, her hips involuntarily buckle up into the air. She lets out a breathy whine.

“Yes! Do that again,” she pleads.

“Of course,” he grins.

And he does.

“Oh, I- it’s… ah,” she whines incoherently.

“You’re getting so loose,” he praises her. “Can you do one more?”

“I’ll take anything you give me,” she says, so high on the endorphins, feeling like nothing more than a pliant blob in his grip. He adds one more and now the stretch returns, but now it’s only good, no longer painful.

“You’re ready for another go?” he asks. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes!” she moans. “Fuck, I want to.”

His fingers pull out and she waits for him with her eyes fluttering closed. He finds his place and lines himself up, but he doesn’t push in. He rubs his tip against her folds, dipping in and out of the pool of heat.

She loves it so much, she doesn’t even think to complain about the teasing of it. She is even disappointed for a second when he stops, but then he begins sinking into her again and she can’t focus on anything else. She breathes deeply, ordering herself to relax into it, to be good. She wants him to think that she’s good.

He sinks in completely and stays there,

“Breathe,” he orders her. She releases the breath she’s holding. “Good. How does it feel?”

“Good,” is all she can think to say. “So good.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, not like last time.” It’s hard to put together the words in whole sentences. It does hurt, but it’s not a scary hurt. It’s good. It’s so, so, so, so good. She feels like her brain is submerged in goo, making everything happen slowly.

“Just keep breathing. Until you’re completely relaxed,” he inhales deeply, “I won’t move at all.”

Y/N focuses all she’s got on her breathing. With each inhale she feels him stretch her more and with each outhale she relaxes around him. She’s sure he could have begun moving a long time ago without bringing any real hurt to her, but the slow pace brings a kind of excitement with it.

“60,” Law whispers, “59, 58.”

Slowly, he begins counting down. Without actually knowing what will happen when he reaches 0, Y/N can feel her arousal blossoming up even more. She begins yearning for movement, for friction.

“43, 42, 41.”

His mouth is almost at her ear and each whisper causes tingles down her spine.

“36, 35.”

She moans in response, showing him what he’s doing to her and how eager she is for him to reach the end of his countdown. He chuckles, but he doesn’t lose track of the counting.

“19, 18, 17.”

“Yes, Law,” she whispers. “Please, I want it.”

“11, 10, 9.”

She clenches hard around him, eager for the stimulation and he skips a number in response.

“6, 4,” he gasps. “3, 2, 1.”

Law pulls out halfway before he slowly pushes back in.

“Yes!”

It’s bliss. It’s only pure bliss.

He begins pumping into her, still not fast, but hard. Long, deep strokes. He takes her legs and lifts them up to get even deeper and she gasps at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants, “is this okay?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, it’s perfect.”

He replies with a filthy groan, picking up the pace considerably.

She can’t stop making sounds, it’s like he’s fucking them out of her. It’s like he’s unlocked a blockage in her chest and now all her airflow has to be made into sound. She’s chanting his name with each thrust.

“You’re so good for me,” he praises.

“Law.”

“Y/N,” he gasps, sounding close to his climax, “how can you come?”

“On top,” she manages to croak in between breaths.

In the next moment he pulls out of her and she’s being tossed around to land on top of his chest.

“Come on, please, just use me however you want,” he begs. “I’m yours.”

And she does.

It takes a while to build up, but when it arrives, she rides him through her climax with a grip around his shoulders so firm that she probably bruises him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, “fuck, you’re sexy. So perfect.”

“Law,” she groans, tensing up and collapsing on top of him.

“Let me fuck you, please, let me fuck you til I come,” Law begs.

“Yes. Just use me back,” she complies, feeling so completely relaxed and submissive, as if no real tension exists in her body. “Whatever you need, Law, take it.”

He fucks her fast, up close and intimate, forehead touching forehead, untill he comes deep inside her with a long-drawn groan and a sigh of her name.

----

When she comes back from the bathroom she finds an extremely relaxed Law, spread out across the bed. He lifts his arms, just barely, to show that he wants her to lay down next to him.

“Next time, I’m going to tease you-” he yawns in the middle of the sentence, “-a lot more. So just prepare yourself.”

“Yeah,” she grins, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You don’t think I could drive you insane?”

“Sure, but you would drive yourself insane first.”

A sheepish grin draws on his lips. It’s the most precious thing she’s ever seen and she pulls herself closer into him.

“Law,” she sighs.

“Yes?”

She hasn’t got anymore to say, but she lets out another satisfied sigh. He chuckles in response.

“I agree,” he murmurs.

“Remind me to thank Shachi,” she mutters to herself.

“Ok. Why?”

“He was the one who told me to send you the pictures,” she explains, almost half-asleep already. “He was the one who gave me all the advice during last week too. Told me to wear those skimpy shorts and to get you to drive me everywhere. To show up in the middle of the night with a bottle of wine.”

Law wakes from his postcoital stupor with a jolt.

“Wait a minute.” His face is drawn down in a frown of confusion. “You’re taking advice on flirting from Shachi?”

Y/N now too recovers to a more conscious state. Regret flashes over her face as she says, “Yeah, I uhm- Is that bad?”

Law falls back on the bed and buries his face in his hands. For a second it looks like he’s crying and Y/N begins to really freak out, but as he moves his hands to reveal his face, she sees that he’s laughing. Like a proper laugh. Big mouth, showing teeth. She even gets a glimpse of his tongue. It’s so different from all the smirking, chuckling and sinister laughter he usually does, it catches her completely off guard.

“I really overestimated you,” he sighs, coming down from his laughter high.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asks.

“Here I thought you were some magical siren creature, created from my deepest desires. Instead, it appears that I have a mole in my midst, leaking private information and you, it turns out,” he smiles, “are just as neurotic as me. Fuck, that is such a relief actually.”

As he says it, he reaches out after her and pulls her into his embrace. She ends up resting against his chest with her head against his shoulder. Suddenly him calling her neurotic is the highest compliment in the world.

“I might be neurotic, yes, though I could never compete with your nerves,” she argues, but all real concern is washed away and she is now in a blissful state of complaisance.

“Are you sure?” he counters. “Seemed like you could very well compete with my need for control. Maybe there’s more we have in common.”

“Let’s find out,” she chuckles.

“I can’t wait,” he responds fondly.

Y/N turns around and lies down on the top of his chest to look at him face to face. After studying him for a few seconds, gathering courage, she asks, “Be my boyfriend, Law.”

His eyes go big and his jaw goes slack. She holds her breath waiting for his response.

“Oh, okay,” he finally says. “Yeah, I would love to.”

“Really?”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend,” he confirms, “and you’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” she says.

“Shit,” he chuckles. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“But good.”

“Good.”

They both sigh deeply, almost in unison, both knocked out by the heat and passion of what they just experienced. And by the fear of finding something this good. Something they would want to keep forever, if they could.

Part 1

On AO3

[httpsminsgirl]

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ bonedo and their campus crush ⚝๋࣭ ⭑

contains: fluff, bonedo being down bad, non-idol! bonedo, OT6, campus crush bonedo ! (members are not referred as ''his members'' but ''his friends'') gn! reader (i'm pretty sure) a/n: I have dyslexia so sorry if there are missing punctuations or grammar mistakes, also english isn't my first language!! hope you like it! ^^ requests, feedback and opinions are always appreciated ! <3 warning: none

๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑ ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑ ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑ ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑ ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑

Jaehyun: (wc: 258)

you'd only have one class with Jaehyun, but he was friends with your friends, so sometimes you'd have lunch together or walk around together, somehow he always had a cute natural blush on his face.

He'd take every and any chance to stare at you, and everytime you'd notice and stare back he'd just avoid all eye contact and hide his face, sometimes his face just would fall straight onto the table and his arms would cover him as he acted tired

all your friends would say he's always really talkative and confident, but with you he was barely able to form sentences that made sense or barely able to talk without stuttering at times, just causing you to call him cute and making him blush more

his friends would love teasing him nonstop, making fun of him every chance they got, specially when you walked in front of them and waved your hand at Jaehyun making him get all flustered but also as excited as a puppy with a ball. As much as they loved teasing his friend, they'd encourage him to ask you out.

You'd end up catching on his little (BIG) crush on you as he was painfully obvious, so you would just make your mind up about asking him out, but that same day he'd come to you with a flower he picked up, face as red as a tomato and unable to look into your eyes as the words ''do you... want to.. maybe go.. hm- on a date with me?'' left his mouth slowly but surely.

Sungho: (wc: 250)

Sungho thought he wasn't obvious at all but his gaze would be following you everywhere you went, even if you were just sitting down doing nothing his gaze was fixed on you and that's when Myungjae had to intervene hitting his elbow ''stop staring so much, weirdo'' his friend said making him get out of his trance ''oh? oh'' he muttered to then focus on class

after that Jaehyun would tell the whole group about it and they'd start to make fun of him but he wasn't paying attention, you just entered the lunch room and that made him get lost in you once again.

The guys would have to help Sungho on this one, he wasn't one to be shy, but he was just mentally blocked this time. The guys would accidentally push his friend towards you causing you both to crash onto each other as Sungho apologized nonstop and you just gave him a reassuring smile to then leave hearing how he cursed his friends afterwards

next day he'd wait for you at lunch just to apologize once again, and maybe even take a chance? as soon as he saw you he walked to you, blushing and scratching his neck as he apologized, after that was done there was silence for some seconds, until he build up enough courage ''I- I think you're really.. p-pretty'' he said a bit unsure and flustered ''would you like to have lunch with me?'' he asked now as you smiled and nodded, hearing what you supposed, were his friends cheering in the background

Riwoo: (wc: 259)

Riwoo was really quiet about it, no one knew about his crush on you. He kept it completely buried, or so he thought until he had to do a project with you and he didn't know how to even articulate a single word causing him to blush embarrassed and for you to look at him worried.

Next meeting Riwoo would be more prepared, but he'd still be quiet, he wouldn't talk much, but he'd steal glances at you and maybe even slowly start a conversation as he warmed up to you and tried to break out of his introvert shell

He'd usually bring snacks, coffee or sweets to have as you worked on your project, and he'd always bring you the best, your favorite things, if you weren't onto sweets like him, he'd make sandwhiches just for you, excited to see you try it and get opinions on it, he'd be really attentive and warm to you. a lot of heart fluttering moments just catching him stare at you and smile or listen to you and agreeing to whatever you say.

As the project was done and you wouldn't have an excuse to see each other anymore, he'd have to prepare himself and tell his friends about it, just to get them to encourage him and prepare him for the big moment. he'd just give you a cup of your favorite drink next day before class and a little note that said ''meet up at 7pm? I'll pick you up... if you want to'' making you chuckle and nod

Taesan: (wc: 265)

Taesan was one to look at you at all times, or most of the time trying to play it off, only thing was that his facial expression was so neutral and unreadable you didn't know if he looked at you cause you had something on your face or just because

He'd never get close to you but he'd look at you from the distance, just secretly admiring you, his friends knew about it and even though they wanted to tease him they knew better than to mess with him about his feelings, something he was quite sensitive about.

As he'd keep an eye on you he'd learn your habits imitating them at times, he'd know what you liked and what you didn't, when you didn't do your homework or if you were awake the whole night.

He'd veeery painfully slowly get close to you, offering you some candy, water, or snacks he had in his bag if he felt you were hungry, even letting you copy his homework if he saw you didn't do it

You slowly got more used to him, his coldness, the distance he'd always keep and how he wasn't someone that talked a lot, but it was fine. you started talking with him at class, just making up for everything he missed, whether it was talking, warmth, initiative, you took it all, and started getting closer but he never really seemed to be interest or attracted to you, until one day he asked if he could walk you home and in the way he held your hand for the first time.

Leehan: (wc: 270)

Leehan and you shared classes together, but not like it mattered, you never talked anyways. he caught your eye, and you had a crush on him, but just something you used to have the will to go to class. until one day you found out you both have some friends in common

at first he was quiet, he never really talked to you or looked at you so you'd think he disliked you or just found you annoying, until your friends started teasing you ''he always looks at you when you're not looking'' they said and that made you feel just a little bit crazy

as the group got closer and closer you slowly started talking too, your friends mostly led the conversation but the only answers he'd pay attention to were yours. One afternoon at the hangout you weren't feeling really well, but no one noticed, or so you thought, until he asked you if you were okay.

You took a walk together as you got some fresh air and he got you a sugary drink to help you feel better, as you did, you both were walking back to where your friends were, but you didn't want to go with them, and Leehan didn't either. ''what if we hang out together? let's do something more relaxing... just- you know... so that you don't overwork yourself?'' he said and you smiled nodding, after that night you'd always sit together in class and talk, have lunch together and he would always make you feel almost crazy as he stared at you attentively with his beautiful brown eyes and a soft smile.

Woonhak: (wc: 181)

Woonhak was also one to be painfully obvious, but also painfully cocky. You would see him sometimes in the hallways, lunch room, or with your group of friends, he was always looking at you with a smile, waving at you like an excited puppy that just met eyes with his owner after a long day of not seeing them

he'd get closer and closer, ask you about your classes and without even asking you if you wanted to or not, he'd walk you to your class and wait for you after if he could. His friends would tease him non-stop, maybe even say he seemed like an stalker or a bit too over the top, so one afternoon he asked you if you thought he was annoying. You hated to admit it, but his cockiness, warmth and attentiveness got to you, you loved the attention he gave you and how smiley he was always specially when looking at you

after a lot of teasing and dares he ended up asking you to date him with a bouquet of flowers one day as you were walking back to your dorms together

๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑ ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑ ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑ ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ⭑ ☆ㅤ ๋࣭ㅤ ⭑

[lotties-ashwagandha]

I THINK IM BEING STALKED…

valeria garza x fem!reader

you’re being stalked, and valeria is the only one who believes you (bc she’s the stalker!!!). this fic is part of the red flags look pink event. 1.5k words. NSFW at the end but I lost the motivation to get too crazy bc im sick.

Not that there’s a way to bring it up, but this certainly isn’t it.

“I think I’m being stalked.”

She shifts beside you in bed, but you keep your eyes trained on the ceiling. Her voice is groggy with sleep when she speaks – it’s one of the few mornings you have woken up together, since the nature of your relationship is usually devoid of any emotional attachments. You come and go, off and on, and it is a harmless escape for the both of you. Casual. “Stalked?”

“I’m being stalked. Someone is stalking me,” you state again. You turn and meet her eyes — tired yet always alert even in the early hours.

Valeria lies on her side facing you, processing your statement with unabating intensity. “What makes you say that?”

You hesitate. It all sounds a bit silly when you say it aloud, but there’s no going back. “I saw someone outside my house the other night. It has happened a few times. I see cars I don’t recognize parked nearby, I always feel watched.”

She waits. “Is that it?”

“I keep finding things outside my front door. Expensive things, gifts, things I want that I haven’t told anyone about. There are pictures of me at the most random places, pictures of me at work. And there are these notes…”

“What do they say?”

“They say I should keep it between us,” you shake your head. “That I shouldn’t tell anyone.”

“And you’re telling me?” Valeria asks. Her gaze is sharp, reflective of her tone.

“They’re blackmailing me, Valeria. Digging up things from my past ages ago to try to keep me silent.”

She sits up, pulls the covers over her bare form and shrugs. “What do you want me to do about it?”

You hadn’t considered it. You know about her line of work, that her cartel has given her unimaginable power. Perhaps you thought she would offer you protection. That just being around a woman of such influence would give you a sense of safety – but if that has been what you’ve been searching for this whole time, you’re in for a disappointment.

Valeria is strong – she is sturdy, unwavering. Yet she is volatile.

Meekly you ask: “Do you believe me?”

Valeria considers it. She’s quiet, but after a moment she nods. “Of course I believe you, cariño.”

“No one else does,” you murmur. You’ve tried telling your friends, everyone close to you, everyone short of the police that you firmly believe you are being watched. But so far no one has believed you – no one but Valeria. They laugh it off, tell you that you are being paranoid.

Her voice rings with concern. “How many people have you told?”

“A few…”

“The notes say not to–”

You sit up. “Are you really agreeing with my fucking stalker?”

“No,” Valeria huffs. “I’m only saying that if the notes say to keep quiet about it, then maybe you should– or you should have come to me first.”

You sigh, swinging your legs over the bed and finding the energy to get up. You need some time alone, even if you are never truly alone anymore.

Valeria’s brows furrow. “¿Adónde vas?”

“I have to work,” you lie.

“Fuck your work. Stay with me.”

You hesitate. “And do what? Talk?”

“Are you so averse to talking to me?”

You shake your head and gesture around her bedroom, set on the highest floor of her mansion. “Unlike you, some of us can’t afford a day off.”

“I’ll pay you instead,” she offers. “How much is your wage today?”

While you know her intent isn’t to offend, it’s the last straw. You stand, get dressed, and grab your purse.

“That’s not what I meant,” Valeria attempts, cursing under her breath as she hurries to get dressed across the room. “Wait a second before you–”

You’re already out the door.

When you get home a few hours later from a day out, a small gift bag is at your door. You stand frozen in front of it, hardly able to breathe. It is disgusting in your view, disturbing even to be around, sickening like the bag itself is laced with poison.

You look back. You don’t see anything out of the ordinary, anyone who doesn’t belong on your street. You are still uneasy — your repulsion lingers as you take the gift bag and head inside.

An unsigned Valentine’s Day card, a circular gold locket with your initials engraved. A few thousand dollars in the bottom of the bag like an afterthought. Picture after picture of you – at stoplights, at work, having drinks with your friends.

This time, though, there is no letter. No blackmail, no threats. That – above all – is what has you unnerved. You have nowhere to hide, either. Your stalker knows where you live. They know where you work. They know every detail about your life from all angles and you have no escape.

You can’t call the police. Your ties to Valeria are too strong, it would be more dangerous than beneficial to draw attention to yourself. You call the next best option: Valeria herself.

“I thought you were sick of me,” she says when she answers the phone. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you for a few weeks.”

“I need you to come over,” you tell her quickly. “They came back, they left something else. I don’t feel safe here alone.”

There’s a brief silence on the other end, and then you hear her grab her car keys. “Stay there. I’ll be right over.”

“Sit down,” Valeria urges. She has made herself at home on your sofa as she watches you pace the room. “I’m here now. No one is going to fuck with you.”

You do feel safer with her here, but the threat still lingers. You can’t distract yourself from the fact that someone is stalking you.

“Come here,” Valeria urges. She reaches for you and you let her tug you down onto the sofa next to her. “Calm down. No one is going to hurt you.”

“How do you know?” You snap. “They could be anywhere. It could be anyone.”

“And if anyone tries to harm you, I’ll shoot them in the fucking face,” Valeria gestures to the gun on your coffee table like it’s a box of candy. “Mírame. You have nothing to worry about.”

You meet her eyes. You take comfort in the sureness in them. Valeria is completely certain of your safety, and you feed on it. You need it.

“You have to take your mind off of all this,” she says softly, shifting to be closer to you, knee bumping against yours and one of her hands taking yours to idly trace patterns on the back. The softness is more domestic than you’re used to, more caring than you ever thought was in bounds. Less casual, yet you know her — you’re well aware of what she’s trying to achieve. “Let me help.”

You will indulge her, always you will, because you can never deny her when she looks at you with such admiration — such need, and she is only satisfied with your closeness. You test her, leaning in slightly and resting a hand on her thigh to gauge her reaction. Yet as soon as you start you give up on timidity — you pull her in to kiss you.

You witness it again, the way she hungers for you. She is insatiable, grabbing at you with a roughness that has you feeling wanted in the best of ways. The way she holds you is nearly in worship, the pride she takes in every gasp she elicits from you, the firmness after she repositions and holds you down onto one of her thighs once your clothes have been almost completely discarded.

Moaning against her lips, you start to grind on her thigh. You’re growing impatient. You crave her, desperate for the attention she is so apt to give, but somehow she is still holding back. To test you, to see how much you really want her.

Your movements falter when her hands find your chest, kneading at your breasts and running her thumbs over your hardened nipples.

Then she stops. She reaches for the bag you found on the porch that you have put on the table beside the sofa.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, letting out a dramatically impatient sigh.

“Put it on,” she holds up the locket, circular and golden, your initials carved in dainty cursive. “I want you to wear it.”

You’re wary, but your hesitation disappears when she grabs your jaw and forces your gaze to hers. “You’re mine.”

She releases you. At your confirmation she fastens the locket around your neck. Not because she gave it to you, you tell yourself. You twist it in any way you can. She’s using it to show that whoever is your stalker can’t have you, and any other excuse you can come up with — because red flags look pink, and all that matters is that you get your release and she gets you.

“¿adónde vas?” = “where are you going?”

“mírame” = “look at me.”

tags: @webism @szczurkanalowy . comment to be tagged in the other days of the event!

find my masterlist here and the red flags look pink event here. as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated! :)

[traincat]

So @softgrungeprophet just posted about John Jameson/Peter Parker, a thing I have nothing for, but it did remind me that I had a Spideytorch WIP where Jonah tries to set John and Peter up and so Peter comes up with the brilliant idea of fake dating Johnny to get out of it, only for John and Johnny to start dating, a thing which will obviously not drive Peter mad with jealousy. Ft my not remotely in order writing practices.

Anyway I don't know when I'll finish it so have a thousand words of people making bad decisions.

--

It was a regular Friday afternoon and Johnny, free of all social and superhero responsibilities, was just trying to relax and maybe catch up on a week’s worth of reality television when a full-grown man hit the side of the Baxter Building going eighty miles an hour.

“Did I scare you? Sorry,” Peter said, not sounding very sorry at all, as he climbed gracefully through the window.

“Of course you scared me! Not everyone has a built in magic spider danger sense!” Johnny said. He looked down at the carpet and the new red footprints there and made a face. “No, it’s fine, track what had better be paint all over my apartment.”

“Thanks, Torchy,” Peter said, as if Johnny had been in any way sincere. “Don’t worry, Reed’s little robot friends will steam clean that right out. Listen, I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

With friends like these, who needed Doctor Doom.

(blah blah blah)

“I just need you to pretend to be in a relationship with me,” Peter said. “For one, two months, tops. Or however long Jonah has left on this earth. Either or.”

(blah blah blah)

“Look, here’s the deal,” Peter said, rolling his eyes, “and don’t ask how this happened, but I accidentally told JJJ I’m bisexual and –”

“Wait, you did what?” Johnny cut him off. His voice was dangerously high even to his own ears. “You’re what?”

“I just told you it was an accident,” Peter said, still in that tone like it was no big deal and he accidentally came out to major newspaper publishers every other week. For all Johnny knew, maybe he did. For all Johnny knew maybe he put on a rainbow spider-suit and shouted it from the top of the Empire State Building every single Friday Johnny had ever been off-planet.

“How do you accidentally tell your former boss you’re bisexual?” Johnny demanded. Then, his own voice somehow rising even shriller, he added, “You haven’t told me you’re bisexual!”

Peter shot him a look that said that he was pretty sure he just had. As if Johnny wasn’t sitting right in front of him, currently losing his mind.

“The bad news, apparently John Jameson came out to his dad a few months ago,” Peter said.

“That’s the bad news,” Johnny said, his voice both flat and scathing in a way no acting coach he’d ever had would believe he was capable of. “Really.”

“Well, good for John, I guess,” Peter allowed, making a face like he wasn’t quite about all of that. Johnny was going to smother him by the end of this conversation, probably. “But bad for me. Because now Jonah wants to set us up.”

There was a strange static-y sound ringing in Johnny’s ears, like someone had scrambled all his frequencies.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Could you rewind? Maybe to the beginning of this conversation?”

“You’re not listening to me, Johnny,” Peter said. “Jonah basically implied that John and I should get married. The other day I caught him looking at brochures for catering halls out on Long Island. And look, John’s a great guy, but –”

“Great,” Johnny said, his face in his hands. “Fantastic. I’ll send you two a fantasti-toaster.”

“But he’s not my type at all,” Peter said. He reached over and closed his fingers around Johnny’s wrist, tugging his hand effortlessly away from his face and leaving Johnny no choice but to look up into that big brown imploring eyes. “Now, She-Hulk, on the other hand…”

A strangled noise of rage tore itself from Johnny’s throat.

(Peter asks Johnny to be his fake boyfriend to some Bugle event)

--

(Bugle event, Jonah awkwardly talks to Johnny and says something mildly homophobic in an incredibly well meaning way.)

“That’s very… something of you, Mr. Jameson,” Johnny said.

“My daughter Mattie bought me a book,” Jameson admitted.

(blah blah Peter runs off and John and Johnny talk on a balcony)

“You know, that’s the thing about Parker,” John Jameson said, his voice light and casual. “Every time I’ve ever seen him he’s had some beautiful model hanging off his arm.”

Johnny snorted, thinking of the Black Cat, and Mary Jane, and even Carlie Cooper with her whole hot librarian vibe. Dorrie Evans, the prettiest girl in Johnny’s high school, talking Johnny’s ear off on a half dozen of their dates about how Peter Parker was so smart and how he was interested in politics and an inch taller than Johnny and probably much more in touch with his feelings. Yeah, right.

“Tell me about it,” he said. “They should ban him from fashion week for the models’ own good.”

They probably already had. Johnny would have to ask.

“No, I meant…” John trailed off. He smiled ruefully, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny said, realizing he’d cut John off. “What were you saying?”

“I was complimenting you,” John said, his eyes twinkling. “What I said about Parker and beautiful models – I meant you.”

“Oh,” Johnny said, floored. He felt strangely like blushing, but that was silly. Johnny was a famous space explorer. It was hardly the first time a handsome astronaut had called him beautiful.

It was, perhaps, the first time it had happened to him on earth. And the first time it had happened outside of a hostage situation. And the first time Ben hadn’t been there to threaten to beat the astronaut up.

“You are here with Peter Parker, aren’t you?” John asked. “As his date, I mean.”

“Allegedly,” Johnny said. He’d meant it to come out under his breath, but it didn’t, and he suspected his eyeroll wasn’t quite as internal as he’d intended either. John laughed, but not unkindly.

“He does have a habit of disappearing, doesn’t he?” John said lightly. “I get it, though, as the son of a newsman. The number of dinners my father actually made it to the main course without rushing off to take a call or chase a story...” He trailed off, sighing ruefully, the corners of his mouth quirked up. “That must be why they get along so well.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Johnny asked, feeling emboldened, maybe, by the way John was looking at him, by the fact that he had called him beautiful.

He definitely wasn’t feeling spiteful over the fact that he was supposed to be here with Peter and Peter had, of course, ditched him, caught up in fifteen other different things, just like always. Things that were more important than Johnny. Things that Johnny could have helped with, maybe, if Peter had asked.

Or maybe things Johnny couldn’t have helped with. After all there were plenty of reasons he might have found Peter’s shirt abandoned in the corner of the men’s room. Things that might have everything to do with, say, the Black Cat instead of Doctor Octopus. 

“Of course,” John said. His hand landed next to Johnny’s on the balcony railing. “You can tell me anything.”

(Johnny admits Peter only brought him as his date to get Jonah to quit it.)

“My father does have that way about him,” John said ruefully. “He’s trying to be very supportive. My foster sister bought him a book. He said he’s thinking about starting a podcast.”

“Elderly Bugle subscribers, watch out,” Johnny said before he could stop himself. Luckily for him, John laughed.

[John kisses Johnny at some fancy event]

--

So now Johnny was a homewrecker. Either of his fake relationship, or of Peter’s future Daily Bugle society page wedding to John Jameson, certified American hero. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

--

Johnny stared at Jonah. Jonah stared at Johnny.

John tucked into his steak like he wasn’t sitting in the middle of the world’s most awkward dinner. Johnny guessed he must have had experience getting through dinners with J Jonah Jameson, but he could have taken a little pity on Johnny, a novice.

(And then somewhere in here Peter would have gone insane.)

[the7thhorcrux]

Hello! This might be a common theme among Snape fics but…

What do you think about Severus and reader being good friends in school and slowly grow further apart due to his Death Eater status. That is, until they see each other again later in their adult years and maybe dormant affections rekindle?

severus snape, ❝ i missed you. ❞

i just might have an idea for an eventual part two-

༺☆༻

You tried. You really did! But no matter how hard you tried to keep in touch, it wouldn't matter. Because friendship should go both ways. And even though Severus clearly cared for you, you two eventually... drifted apart. You have to admit that you didn't treat his meetings with other Death Eaters seriously at first. But who can blame you? His constant excuses were made to make you think it's nothing serious. "we're just going there to talk" or "they are my friends too, so i need to help them when they need me" were one of the many things you'd hear in your teenage years still at school. But once you both graduated and his 'friend group' turned out to be officially well known literal cult (!), you did set the boundary there. Long talks turned into brief conversations, those into writing letters, until finally Severus stopped replying to those that you had sent. You suspected he didn't even read them at all. Why would he? All you knew was the rumors of what the Death Eaters were doing now and apparently how far they were willing to go to prove their point. You were not only angry but also disappointed. In him, but also in yourself for not reacting sooner, when maybe there still was a chance to stop him. Prevent any of this from happening. Especially now, that the Dark Lord was back.

༺☆༻

You sat at the table, drumming your fingers against the wooden surface as Molly set down a warm cup of tea in front of you. With a small nod and a smile you took a sip. The Order members were still on their way here, as you were informed. It was rather spontaneous - bringing you here to help them. After your contact with Severus died down you decided to focus on your studies, mastering your abilities. And now, your connections and knowledge could be useful to help the Order and many other people. After all, if Albus Dumbledore himself asks for your assistance, then it's probably important. So here you are now. Sitting at the table at Grimmauld Place 12, chatting with Sirius and Molly, drinking tea as they tried to update you on what they got so far. You looked down at the newspaper Arthur brought in, focusing on it briefly as everyone walked into the room where the meeting was supposed to take place in. So many old and new faces you could see again. It should bring you joy, maybe even a sense of comfort. To see old friends again. Yet your heart stopped for a moment as Severus sat down at the end of the table, avoiding your gaze. You looked away, not sure what to do. Smile? Wave? it was confusing, so you decided to focus on more important matters at the moment.

After the meeting (and rather heated argument in between Severus and Sirius, that briefly made you realise how not as much they both had changed) you stood up, looking as the room to cleared. before you could even do anything you saw Severus was already gone. Even though you could've sworn he was right next to you just a moment before.

It was only two meetings later that Severus finally pulled you to the side on your way out of the building.

"Sev!" you blinked, not expecting him to actually initiate any contact with you, and definitely not like that. He muttered your name quietly and you had a feeling he said it out loud for the first time in years.

"I need to talk to you. Just for a minute," he explained. The tone of his voice betrayed how uncomfortable he actually felt at the moment - something you haven't seen in years. he must’ve noticed that too, because he relaxed slightly shortly after you nodded.

"i had no idea you belong to the Order." you said, awkwardly folding your arms on your chest.

"i, as well, was not informed you do too now." he responded, his voice a bit lower this time and tone much colder than he intended.

"is that a problem?" you frowned, asking defensively. "i know you probably didn't wanted to talk to me, but i don't think that our past should have any negative effect on the Order's efficiency-“

“what are you taking about?” he stopped your rambling and frowned.

“you’re not going to ask me to not talk to you outside of the Order meetings?” you asked, also frowning in confusion.

“Merlin, of course not,” he shook his head, visibly frustrated and maybe even annoyed. “i wanted to…” he paused. right. what did he wanted? “i suppose i wanted to say… that I’m sorry.” he muttered.

“you suppose?” you shook your head. “you decided to completely throw away our friendship and for what? to just come back years later? as if nothing happened?” you said, even though your tone betrayed that there was no real anger behind those words; just regret that so many years were wasted.

“that’s my fault. for pushing you away.” he admitted reluctantly. “and i apologize for it.”

“i wrote you letters…” you said quietly after a moment of silence. “…but since you stopped reading them i stopped sending new ones-“

“i was always reading them,” he said defensively. “i still should have them somewhere… i just had no idea what to write to you back.”

You looked up at him, his expression showing how sincere he was in this moment.

“…we should catch up.” you offered quietly. “a lot of things had happened.”

“yes. we definitely should.” he nodded.

After a moment of silence you looked up at him again after he called your name again.

“i missed you.”

You smiled softly, feeling his hands rest on your shoulders gently, pulling you into a hug.

[twistedminutia]

Hiiii I’m a big fan of your writing!! A million and one minutia is so fantastic and fun!! You do such a good job of writing all the characters- they really feel like full complex people who are having their own experiences and thoughts throughout the scenes! And I really love how you write Malleus! I feel like you do a great job of capturing his other-worldliness and how he could seem so intimidating/unapproachable, while still writing him as someone who has his own thoughts and feelings and just has a very different approach to the world than Gray!

You mentioned that people can submit ideas via your tumblr? I hope this is not overstepping (if it is then please just ignore this part!!!) I was wondering if you had any thoughts on amusement activities in Twisted Wonderland vs earth- like do they have roller coasters, do they have crazy magic-powered entertainment experiences, etc. And I’m also curious about how the twisted wonderland folks would feel about amusement parks we have- either ones like Disney that ‘capture the magic’ with their attractions, or our thrill rides, or the older, buck wild attractions of Coney Island and the like. Anyways, I love your work! I hope you keep having fun with it!!

Wow, thank you! That's a really amazing compliment. I always strive to make my characters feel like real people- especially because I think one of Twst's strong suits is making characters pretty complex and varied. I do try to write by thinking about what every character is thinking in a scene and how their personalities bounce off each other- which might be why I struggle balancing scenes with a lot of characters.

Malleus, to me is a character who is best written when he is written as a person who's pretty strange with no understanding that he is strange and a complete confidence that he is perfectly sensible and everyone else is just weird. He's stoic and reserved, and he's very intelligent, but lacks common sense and experience, so he tends to be just slightly out of step with everyone else. He's a good person at heart, but he struggles to stay in tune with most other people around him. I find him very endearing as a character because he both seems to struggle with loneliness and struggle with reaching out, which is something I have trouble with as well.

As for the second part of your ask... Hm. I don't know if I'd ever want to do a chapter on this, if only because I feel like a lot of the thoughts about amusement parks in Twisted Wonderland got answered by the Playful Land event. (Also because I can't think of a premise for Gray and her friends to be going to an amusement part during the school year... maybe a school trip, I guess?) Anyway, in Playful Land, it was confirmed that they do have roller coasters (and I think Ace confirmed he'd been on one before) and they have some magical attractions, like the undersea attraction Leona, Jack, and Kalim go to. There does seem to be some limits on how extensive the attractions tend to get, though- Leona comments on how impressive and lifelike the fish are.

Personally, I think larger and more extensive amusement parks would probably have at least a couple immersive magic experiences- either things like the undersea attraction, where you're able to step into a new, immersive location, or maybe something where magic powers a ride- maybe you can fly within a restricted area or something along those lines. Smaller amusement parks might not have the same thing, depending on how much effort it takes to make the attractions.

I think our NRC students would probably think our amusement parks are pretty cool- I'd imagine they have some of their own there as well. They might be safer in Twisted Wonderland, since magic might be incorporated into the ride as a precaution, so they might think the level of accidents we have on those rides is a bit scary! But I think the parks they'd like would depend on their personality. Ace, for example, probably really likes thrill rides. Trey might prefer something a little more sedate. I think Sebek would either really love roller coasters or really hate them. I think Riddle might like a carousel for some reason? I just think it would suit him. Silver too, though he might fall asleep. For some reason, I think Malleus would like ferris wheels? I think he'd find them interesting, and would like looking out over the world. Floyd probably LOVES thrill rides. Azul, on the other hand, would probably hate them (I don't think he'd like amusement parks that much... he doesn't seem like a ride guy to me, and he wouldn't like the food, and he'd probably immediately catch on to the fact that all the games are rigged. The most fun he'd have would be examining business practices and trying to set up the games at the Mostro Lounge.)

[eir-trixa]

My toxic view is that I actually want to read a buddy comedy between Percy and Drew. For absolutely no clear reason I just want it.

[bikerboyfriend]

[crossbackpoke-check]

re last answer: please don't stop, being very unhinged about these two pretty white boys is helping distract me from the sharks losing streak rn so bring it on

https://www.tumblr.com/bondedpairs/764566430180147200?source=share

(sideblog woes but there's the link for you) anyway in the vid they talk about going over to each other's houses to have dinner and things and while that is a delicious example of their codependence i love it bc through an rpf lens there is definitely some old man ******* going on. they can have the dilfs and each other.

(someone else mentioned kept boys which i could write an essay on but i fear being Perceived™️)

anyway if you have anything to add to this please do, if not ignore me and i will hide under a rock until the stress-related insanity has worn off and i am a functioning member of society once more 😂

- @bondedpairs

ty for the video!!! and please, WRITE THE KEPT BOYS ESSAYYYY i promise i will read it with my hands over my eyes if you don’t want to be perceived. do it scared!! do it anyway!! we’ll all love you for it!!!

[kate-m-art]

Uhhhh another dump and run sketch post to prove I'm alive I guess, varied subjects and quality lol see you guys in another month or so

Uhhhh probs don't have explanations that make any sense but mirror twins beloved, Sir Sean, way too many of Autumn and co., Viking besties, and modern au Antione and Mea skating cause adore them sm TvT

[sk3l3t0n444]

i feel like everybody hates me, but especially those who i look up to...i feel like a little kid again...looking up to those who only look down upon me, instead of picking me up and embracing me.

[roseofcards90]

Made some pie crust tonight for my apple pie tomorrow!!! :3

[phagodyke]

actually ive been thinking abt this a lot lately like basically for years i assumed i was very (cis)het passing and only recently ive become aware that i am in fact. very obviously perhaps almost comically gay to other queer ppl. like lmaoooo ok then

[steviescrystals]

i think i’m finally starting to realize what it is about so many of my friendships that feels off and it’s not a fun realization :/

[skrunksthatwunk]

whyyyyy is rascal on his own without any food in his bowl or in the torn open not-even-any-crumbs-left bag of meow mix. whyyyy was my bread torn open and chewed on. whyyyyyy was there not a new bag of food for him when i know i left on friday with him having one meal in the bag and one in the bowl (it is monday morning so that's four meals missed, roughly). he's wrecked up the room a bit but the possible vomit on the floor is not giving me any confidence

update: yeah there was more evaporate vomit 🙃

[elytrafemme]

(kinda gets 18+ in tags srry. i never know how/where to talk abt it) and honestly it's never like i can pull up and talk about like, emotional abuse either. or like atmospheric triggers and shit. because talking about any of that is hard. but it's specifically fucking impossible to ever talk about sexual trauma to anybody ever, which is fucked because like... i'm trying and i'm doing good at it, i'm proud of myself, but it's so like. idk. when something dominates your entire life for an incredible critical five years of your life and entirely transforms how you approach anything it's like... i don't actually know how to express any of this at all. and i guess it's sometimes hard for people to get it. i dunno.