#he does things before he thinks about doing things

[lologoinsolo]

Thinking about Simon with a runt of a kitten and it’s barely the size of his palm. Also thinking about the poor cashier that’s stumbling over her words when that hulking man has a kitten fisted in his palm and he just jerks it forward.

“U-Uh, sir, we can’t— I can’t keep that.” His eyes make you shrivel up and you delicately hold the little kitten in your hands. “We uh— the store can’t hold animals we only sell the stuff that animals need.”

He looks at you like that’s not what he’s wanted to hear. Granted you’ve had a couple people come up to try and surrender or drop of their animals like it’s a pound. “I need things for the cat.” He says and you feel like maybe you shot yourself in the foot.

You have a line piling up behind him but no one seems to dare speak up. Why would they when this guy could lay them flat out? Jesus what are they feeding this guy? Steroids and protein powders? You think before swallowing thickly. “I can… I can get my coworkers to—“

“No.” He reaches forward and you flinch when he picks up the kitten and holds it to his chest. “You’ll help.” Nodding off and he starts to walk leaving you dumbfounded and confused. He walks a couple steps before he turns to you with a ‘well?’ look on his face.

You hurriedly grab your pager and call for someone to go through the line while you help this guy. Leading him down the aisle for the litter and you list off the different types. “There’s crystal litter, wood pellets and those are pretty good when it comes to smell. We have tofu litter and that—“

“Does it need something fancy to shit in?” He cuts off the beginning of your speech with a huff. He sounds a mix of annoyed and amused with how you bristle from his remark. You’re tempted to leave, your manager can bitch later about you doing that butttt the kitten against his chest meows and you find that you can’t leave the little thing to suffer because their dad’s a right prick.

“Sir,” you take a breath, “the litter is moreso about preference. Do you want to hide the smell of their… ya know… poop better? Or would you prefer something that clumps or something that’s easy to clean?” You wait… and wait some more before he finally says.

“Pick one.”

You blink at him and he mimics it that bastard. He just stares the entire time you have this little contest. You’re starting to feel like you should’ve called out of work. You knew today would be horrible, your instincts never lie. “Okay,” taking a deep breath and spitefully picking the most expensive and heaviest litter that your store sells. You yank it off the shelf with a groan. If it’s hard for you to lift then he’ll probably have the time of his life having to lug this home. He doesn’t seem to care about the pricing nor the weight though as he grabs the litter from your struggling arms. He shoves the kitten back to your empty hands. “I—“ you stumble over your words, trying to come up with something but he beats you to it.

“Where’s the food she need?” Lifting it onto his shoulders, the muscles bulging as he holds that thing with ease.

“Well she,“ you cough to keep from ogling too much. “Will need some kitten food and maybe some wet food later on. A good kibble would be good to add later on once she gets older,” holding the kitten up gently and her little green eyes blink at you. You prod softly at her teeth to make sure she can handle those foods. You’re hoping she’s not to young or she’ll need kitten formula. You then check her ears and see some red marks. Noticing the little black specs moving about her neck and you cringe. “And a good flea bath. Poor thing,” petting the little baby as you walk off to grab a flea comb. He’ll have to buy it anyways so you’ll make use of it now. You pick at her fur with the comb and squish whatever fleas that you find, you hate those little fuckers. “What’s her name?”

You’ve noticed he’s as silent as a grave this customer of yours. He’s hardly said a peep besides caveman grunts and nods. If it wasn’t for him nearly against your side then you would’ve thought he ran off. That black surgical mask makes him look like he’s something important. Maybe mafia or something possibly dangerous. But… he did come in holding this tiny kitten and isn’t batting an eye at the things you’ve been telling him he’ll need to get for his new pet. Perhaps he’s nicer than your judgement of him is.

You clear your throat, he probably didn’t hear you since he hasn’t tilted his head down. “Does she have a name?” You ask once more and he pulls to a stop, he had came back with a cart earlier when there were too many things for him to hold in his tree trunk arms. It was comical seeing him try to hold a litter box, scratching post, and various foods though.

He doesn’t answer save for the roll of his shoulders that looks like it could be counted as a shrug. You mouth an ‘oh’ before you mind your business. He probably just found her or he’s gonna foster and send her off. Better to not get attached…

You chatter off the things he’ll need to do. See a vet, get her spayed, make sure she has no health problems, the usual things that you mention to pet parents. The little thing in your hands is a curious thing, she wiggles about constantly. Eager to move and escape your hands and arms. Tiny tail flicking about and the meowing and pawing is cute, makes your heart squeeze when he plucks her from your hands and he holds her close. You push the cart along and stop at the toys and bowl aisle.

“Well,” you pull some toys off the shelf, crinkle toys and mouses that should help with those prey instincts. “She’s a sweetheart. I’d probably call her Bailey,” you smile fondly and his brows furrow at your advice. Grabbing the kitten shaped bowls and hurriedly putting them in the cart when you squirm under his eyes. “Oh uh, my brother always wanted a cat named Bailey. It’s a nice name but if you don’t want to call her—“

“Bailey,” he holds her up a little and the kitten paws at his face. Her little nails snag on the fibers of his mask and he pulls them off quickly. “Better than garbage, yeah?” He speaks to the kitten like a human. There’s a crinkle besides his eyes and you realize he’s smiling but when you catch what he said you drop this cactus scratcher you thought he should buy her by accident.

“Garbage?” You look aghast. You’ve heard all kinds of names but never something like that. Quickly picking the cactus scratcher back up and placing it in the piling up cart. “You’d call her that?”

He shrugs his massive shoulders again. “S’where I found ‘er.” Grumbling his reasoning. He glares at the kitten like she’s the cause of his problems. “Couldn’t sleep with’er howling and rummaging about. Made a mess that I had to clean.”

You blink a bit and now it makes some sense why he’s so… snappy? “Well… maybe she knew you’d get her if she was loud enough.”

He scoffs, “she bit and hissed at me.” He rubs his finger over her head and you notice the little red marks on his hands. “Feisty little shit shoulda left ya out in the cold.” She nips at him and he chuckles something deep.

You can’t help the smile that reaches your face. She plays with his fingers and he doesn’t flinch when she bites hard or digs her nails in. He just looks down at her with something akin to wonder and begrudged responsibility.

You pull him to your cash register and his kitten racks up a pretty hefty bill but he pays for it with wads of cash. You don’t speak on the weird crumbled bills nor the faint reddish brown color. You simply bag his items and put them in his cart. “If you need anything, sir. Come find me and I’ll help, okay?” You can’t believe you said it AND actually ment it. What can you say, you love cats more than people and that little thing won your heart as easily as she won his.

He gives a gruff nod and pushes his cart out with on hand. The kitten is pushed into his coat pocket to hide her most likely from the cold outside. She pokes her head out to give a complaint but he just gently pushes her back in. He leaves without waving and you’re left to wonder if he’ll come back. You kinda hope he does come back.

Part 2

[missdynamighttt]

asking bf! katsuki what he feels about prenups makes you fall in love with him all over again.

you were lounging on the couch, legs draped across katsuki’s lap as the tv played some random show neither of you were really watching. his hand rested on your thigh, thumb tracing absentminded circles while you scrolled through your phone.

the thought hit you out of nowhere, and before you could second-guess yourself, you blurted it out.

"hey, what do you think about prenups?"

katsuki froze mid-circle. his eyes shifted from the tv to you, brow furrowing. "the fuck?"

"a prenup," you repeated, sitting up slightly. "y’know, legal agreements before marriage, just in case things go south. if we get married."

"when we get married," he corrected automatically. his brows drew together. "why the hell are you askin’ me about prenups?"

you shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "i dunno. i was just curious. a lot of people get them."

katsuki scoffed, sitting up straighter. "yeah, greedy assholes who don't trust each other."

"not always," you countered. "sometimes it's just making sure both people feel secure. it doesn't mean you don't trust each other. to protect assets, just in case—"

katsuki scoffed, cutting you off. "just in case? you plannin’ on leaving me or somethin’?"

your eyes widened. "what? no! i'm just saying—"

he made a face, the kind he always did when he thought something was bullshit.

"tch. i don't need some dumbass piece of paper to tell me what's yours or mine."

"'sides..." he shifted, his hand sliding from your thigh to your chin, tilting your face toward his. "everything i got's yours anyway."

your heart skipped a beat. "everything?"

"yeah. the apartment, the money, the dumb shit i spend on workout gear. all yours. even me," his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. "especially me."

you swallowed hard, warmth flooding your chest. "that’s... really sweet."

his lips twitched into a smirk. "yeah? so does that mean i get all your shit too? ain’t that how it works?"

you grinned. "sure. you can have my stuffed toy collection and my 2 digit savings account."

"fuck yeah," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "knew you were a catch."

you laughed, swatting his chest. he caught your wrist easily, kissing each and every knuckle. his face softened as he looked at you, calloused hand cradling the back of your head.

"don’t need a prenup, pretty," he said, quieter this time. "what we got... it ain't temporary. i'm all in. always."

your heart melted on the spot. "yeah?"

"yeah," he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. "if things do go south, we talk. ‘cause i’d rather die than let you go."

your heart stuttered in your chest. you were expecting some casual discussion, maybe even some banter, but instead, you got this—your boyfriend looking at you like he’d burn the world down before letting anyone take you away from him.

"...so, no prenup?" you squeaked.

katsuki huffed, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. "no fucking prenup."

"now quit talkin' about stupid legal shit and kiss me."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ hii! inspired by @gojosprettyprincess 's post about opinions on prenups and thought this up >< i PROMISE i will do some requests before i get to the twitter porn links with katsuki^^ hope you guys enjoy!!

[no-144444]

who's he?- l.norris

summary: you've always been more famous, but now jack whitehall has decided to address it

pairing: lando norris x fem! moviestar! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You sat beside Lando, giggling beside him as the night went on, awkward and long. F175 was a good idea on paper, but it was also the most hunger games-esque things you’d ever seen, and every single person there could feel the awkward and uncomfortable air in the room. 

He reached over and grabbed your hand to play with while Jack Whitehall made his way through the tables as the Williams car was revealed. 

“You alright?” you asked, leaning in to him. 

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “All good.”

He was doing great. 2024 had been the hardest season of his life, and he genuinely couldn’t have done it without you. Every time he came home and saw you there, taking time out of your own busy schedule to make him feel better, it meant the world to him. He was eternally grateful. 

Jack pulled up a chair beside the two of you, getting ready for the interview. “Evening guys,” he smiled, settling in beside you. The Williams reveal was over, the lights came up again, and the camera was turned to Lando, Jack and you. 

“Give it up for my main man James Vowels!” There was a break for cheering. “Now, there is only one person I want to talk to tonight,” he announced into the microphone and the crowd went wild. They thought he meant Lando. “Y/n Y/l/n!” 

The stadium erupted in laughter as Lando got cut out of the camera angle, zoning in on your and Jack. Beside you, Lando was laughing harder than anyone, squeezing your hand as he giggled uncontrollably. You were pretty famous, being a huge movie star. At the beginning of your relationship back in 2021, everyone was a bit confused on why you’d picked him, since F1 wasn’t huge back then. Ever since then there’s always been jokes about how he’s less relevant than you, or less famous, etc. Honestly, you find them hilarious.

“Y/n, how are you feeling about tonight, have you ever seen anything like this?” he asked.

“No, I have not,” you smiled, trying to hold in your own laughter. 

“How does it compare to the Oscars?” 

“There’s usually less drummer, for sure,” you joked and the crowd laughed. “But yes, I am very excited to be here.” 

“Do you think Lando’s taking it away this year?” 

You turned to Lando and he smirked, shaking his head. “I hope so,” you shrugged, turning back to Jack. 

“I won’t be famous enough if I don’t,” Lando added, giggling into the microphone. 

“Mate let’s be honest you were never famous enough for her,” Jack teased. “I hope you win this year for your sake,” both you and Lando were uncontrollably laughing now. “So, how was your break? Got a chance to Netflix and Chill?” 

A boom mic was lowered into your face. 

“We did, y’know,” Lando nodded, pushing the boom away. “Wankers.” 

“Please do not curse Lando,” Jack chuckled. 

“That's not a curse word,” he smiled cheekily. “But yeah, we had a nice break. We spent some time with our families and friends, and we went to see Daniel in Perth as well, which was great.”

“You and Daniel are quite close, aren’t you Y/n?” he mused. 

“Yeah, I’ve worked with his partner a lot before, so we’re pretty close.”

“And he introduced us,” Lando added and you nodded. 

“Wow! Daniel Riccardo the match-maker, will he be officiating at your wedding?” Jack asked, referencing the fact that there were a lot of engagement rumours over the break for the two of you. 

You looked down at your hand confused then held it up for the cameras, showing no engagement ring on your finger, then looking at Lando confused, who giggled. 

“It’s on my to-do list, alright?” he chuckled. 

“Better be soon, or else you’ll be too irrelevant to marry her,” Jack joked. “And now, we have the wonderful Kane Brown, give it up!” 

The cameras turned to the singer, and Lando smiled at you. 

“It’s a good idea,” he whispered. “Asking Daniel.” 

“I don’t see a ring on my finger, Norris,” you pointed out again. 

“Soon,” he nodded, sincerity in his eyes. “So soon.”

“I'll believe it when I see it,” you chuckled, but you knew he was serious.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[trivia-yandere]

ok head me out…jungkook…who happens to be your brothers best friend…are you catching what im saying???

well why the fuck not? off limits

he’s a 10 but…he’s your brother’s best friend & completely off limits.

word count: 3.118

warning: smut, little plot fr fr, age difference (like 3 years), fingering, unprotected sex, alcohol intake, oral sex (f/m) creampies, dirty talking,

“Did you know?” you asked Jungkook, head pressed against the cold window. Your eyes watch as the world passes by in a blur with the speed in which he’s driving. Your mind is a mess, the alcohol flowing through your body.

“Know what?” Jungkook asks.

Jungkook was the person you called to pick you up from your night out with your friends. It was nice of him to deal with all of you - the random crying in the backseat from one friend, to the angry screaming another did over the phone with her boyfriend. It was silent now, however, as he was on his way to driving you home. There’s soft music playing through the speakers that’s at the perfect volume for you and him to talk.

You don’t answer his question - not yet, at least. “Remember…my freshman year of highschool,” you start, lifting your head from the window to turn to look at him. “when I kissed you?”

Jungkook feels your eyes on him as he drives. His hand grips the steering wheel, his right hand lightly tapping his fingers against his thighs.

Jay, your brother and his best friend, would have not picked you and your friends up without giving you an earful along the way. Especially once he saw the way you were dressed - short skirt, tight shirt and laced stockings. It was one of the main reasons why you called Jungkook, after all.

“Yes.” Jungkook murmurs. “You weren’t even supposed to be at that party.”

True, you think. But neither was Jay. Your parents were out of town that weekend and that meant Jay was going to do what he wanted. You threatened to expose him if you didn’t go along with him - typical younger sister actions. After giving you a long list of things not to do, he allowed you to come.

Of course, he had told all of his friends about you being there and to keep an eye out. Your beer was stolen from your hands by Jimin who replaced it with soda. Taehyung had plucked the joint that was handed to you by a senior right out of your fingers and insisted you do something else. That something else was joining a game of seven minutes in heaven where, surely, no one would be there.

Except, Jungkook was. And the moment he saw that you were going to be in the closet with someone older than all of them, he had stepped forward and gone inside with you instead. He fully intended on not doing anything with you, of course.

“The look on your face was funny.” you snort, thinking about that memory. You haven’t talked about it with him ever - neither did you even tell Jay. Your brother made it clear from day one - back in elementary school when he met his closest friends - that you were to never be associated with them outside of a platonic relationship. 

They were off limits; and so were you.

“I wasn’t expecting you to do that.” Jungkook responds, snorting. You’ve done it so fast and it lasted less than five seconds. There was only a minute left in the game and you had placed a hand onto his chest and murmured a quiet “our little secret” before leaving. “You were like a little sister to me back then.”

Your smile immediately falls, your eyes shifting back to the road. The mood changes immediately and Jungkook notices it.

Your question you asked him before was did he know. Did he know that you liked him back then? You were only a freshman while your brother and him were juniors. You didn’t blame him for seeing you as a little sister as you all grew up around one another. He witnessed you and your brother fight and argue countless times, eyes bouncing between you and him with large doe-like eyes.

“How about now?” you ask as Jungkook stops at a red light. The roads are clear from any cars in sight. “Do you still think of me as a sister now?”

Jungkook allows himself to look at you fully now. He stares at you for a few moments, gathering your question into his mind. He doesn’t respond, unsure how to.

It was easier to see you as a little sister back then - all of the friend group had. Taehyung would always tease you like Jay had while Jimin was more of the caring type. 

Now, however, it was different. He noticed the shift as you began to grow older. Your senior year to be exact. Your figure changed, your voice grew a bit deeper and older. You were growing a bit mature for a senior girl. He told himself it was because you were a pretty girl so naturally, he would notice these changes.

But even after highschool, his eyes continued to wander to you and linger longer than they should. You moved in with Jay into his apartment to be closer to college and he would see you whenever he frequented there. Your shorts fit you perfectly, as did your shirts. You showed more skin (than Jay ever wanted you to) and when you spoke to him, it was always in a tone that Jungkook swore wasn’t entirely platonic.

“Kook?”

Jungkook blinks, turning his eyes away to look at the light that’s still red. He contemplates just running it as it’s nearly 3 a.m and not a single car around them. His cheeks are dusted a bit red when he realizes he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“No.” Jungkook says. “I don’t.” he answers truthfully.

“Kook?” you hum once more, this time a hand reaches out for him. It touches his arm and causes a jolt of electricity to shoot throughout his body.

“Yeah?” Jungkook swallows, adam’s apple bobbing. This damn light wasn’t turning fast enough. He turns his attention towards you. He notices from this angel, the red lights are illuminating your face. Your lips are coated in gloss and it shines.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

Another swallow, followed by a squeeze of the steering wheel.

“I lied about where I was going to Jay tonight. And…if I go home. He’ll see me dressed like this.” you explain further. It causes Jungkook to glance down at your attire again, immediately regretting it and then meeting your eyes. “He’ll call me a whore again.”

Jungkook wants to say no - that you should go home. Jay should be asleep by now; he had work in the morning right? 

Jungkook doesn’t see the issue of you being at his apartment. You’ve gone there before…with Jay. Without Jay, what would be the reason for you to be there? What if Jay found out and thought-

“You’re thinking too much into this, Kook.” your lips form into a smile and your head tilts. Your hand squeezes his biceps a bit. “Besides, what could go wrong? It’s just me.”

Everything could go wrong - and it did.

You’re unsure how long it took when you and him got into his apartment, but your lips were on his before either of you could think.

Jungkook’s mind screams at him to stop this. Not only were you not sober, but you were off limits. You were someone he respects greatly and shouldn’t take advantage of.

But your hands roam his chest, then go lower to his stomach. You grab hold of his hands and place them onto your hips - all the while continuing to deepen the kiss.

Jungkook gives in, pushing you closer. You smell of fruity alcohol and strawberries - your lips taste of peach; soft and sticky from the gloss. He’s hooked, the flooded feelings he suppressed coming out at such a terrible time. 

“I want you.” you mumble against his lips, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck. Afraid to let him go in the guise that this could possibly be a (wet) dream; one you didn’t want to wake from just yet.

Jungkook knows you do, but he’s hesitant. Kissing you is bad and it goes against his friendship. But fucking you was something so heinous. If Jay found it, it would ruin nearly two decades of friendship.

“Please,” you repeat, one arm unhooking from his neck to take hold of one of his hand that’s gripping your ass. You dip it between your legs and through the skirt so he can feel just how much you wanted him. “please.” you repeat.

Jungkook groans - how much could one man handle? You’re soaking through your panties and the stockings you’re wearing. His fingers are directly against your clit and on instant, they rub circles on the wet, sensitive bud.

“Jay’s going to kill me if he finds out.” Jungkook groans, capturing your lips into his as his fingers dips between your wet folds. He makes no move to stop or push you away, however.

“It’ll be our little secret.” you say, repeating those very words he heard years ago. A secret he was going to take to the grave with him, no matter how small and insignificant it may have been back then.

Jungkook dips his fingers into your hole. It’s tight and squeezes around him. Instantly, he begins to pump, needing to feel just how wet you were for him.

You don’t hide your moans in the slightest. You wanted Jungkook to know how much you wanted this; wanted him. You waited years to be in this position - to have Jungkook all to yourself, even if it meant that you had to do it behind everyone’s back.

“Just for tonight.” Jungkook says, his warm breath tickling your cheek. “Tonight I’ll give you what you want.”

“The whole night?” your hand is still holding his wrist as he pumps his fingers deeply inside of you. Your arousal is coating his palm, a groan escaping your lips.

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts, eyes already clouded with lust. “you’re going to be insatiable.”

Jungkook removes his fingers from you, a whimper escaping your lips at the loss of them. He juts his head down the hall to the bedroom. He tugs you along, slamming the door open and leading you inside.

You don’t take your time in removing your clothes and the stocking, having them pool around you.

Jungkook doesn’t waste time pushing you onto his bed and pulling your legs apart. Your pussy is glistening underneath his LED lights and he groans at the beautiful sight. His head dives down, tongue swirling onto your clit. He’s groaning and grunting, his cock throbbing with just the act of eating you out.

It felt so wrong doing this, Jungkook thinks. The same young girl who was once so innocent and sweet was now you. The girl who was an adult who knew what she wanted. Who was laying naked on his bed and whimpering as he suckled onto your clit.

Your hand places itself onto his head, gripping his hair. Your hips grind against his tongue and he lays it flat so you could continue. The amount of times you thought of Jungkook in less than holy ways couldn’t be counted on both hands, but getting to live it out was a dream.

“Fuck, Kook.” you moan. 

Jungkook wasn’t going to stop until you came - which wasn’t far. He has your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your thighs to assure you cannot squirm away from him. His tongue laps your clit greedily, messy black hair jumping with the way his head bobs back and forth.

Jungkook’s cock is painfully hair as you moan for him. His eyes flicker up to your face - scrunched in pleasure with your eyes fluttering open just in time to meet him. He doesn’t look away, a satisfaction flowing through him when your eyes widen slightly and you groan. His tongue continues to ravish onto your cunt greedily until you’re shaking with pleasure.

You begged for him to fuck you right there. To take you as rough as he wanted - to not hold back. You were on birth control, you said. You wanted to feel him - all of him if this was going to be the one and only time.

Jungkook was but a man. He was already a fucked up person and friend. He sinks his cock into you and pounds you so disrespectfully - as if you weren’t his friend's baby sister. As if you weren’t someone he cared about deeply.

You begged for more, each thrust causing your stomach to churn. Your breast bounces erratically and your pussy’s already squeezing out another orgasm, but you don’t want this to end; neither does Jungkook.

Jungkook turns you around and fucks into you even deeper, your face pressed into his cotton sheets. Your ass was amazing from this view - it was going to be engraved into his mind. 

“Your pussy feels so good.” Jungkook whines, fully positive that he sounds like a school boy experiencing sex for the first time. 

It doesn’t help that you’re far too willing for him  to fuck you that you do whatever . You spread your  legs even further to allow him more access, nails digging into his sheets. He pounds into you with no mercy, your pussy squeezing him.

Jungkook hovers about your arched back, right hand dipping between your thighs to capture your already throbbing clit in his. He rubs it as he pounds into you, his lips close to your ear. “Are you really on birth control or was that a lie?”

“I-I am!” you say through moans. “A-Are you going to cum in me?”

Jungkook grunts - you weren’t going to make it easy for him, were you? The thought of cumming in you was exciting as he never did it with anyone without a condom. 

What’s the worst that can happen? You and he were already doing the unforgivable.

“You want me to cum in your pussy?” Jungkook’s voice sounds like sex, deep and sensual. 

You cum right there, overstimulation flowing through you but you nod your head erratically. You wanted any and every part of Jungkook that he was willing to give you.

And Jungkook had.He came right in you - again and again.

The fucking didn’t stop until he’s came in you at least four times. One time on your back so he could see your face as you cum around his cock. Once while you ride him, his hands cradling your hips possessively, eyes darting from the way you rise and fall on his wet cock to your bouncing breast in his face. The next follows immediately after, this time Jungkook taking control while you kept your position right above him.

Somehow, even then you weren’t done. You allowed yourself an hour before you asked if he could cum in your mouth. The request was outlandish but, Jungkook complied. You laid on your back and opened your mouth for him to, in your words, use you.

Jungkook should feel disgusted of himself for already using you as if you were nothing but a whore, but it was far too tempting. He pumps his cock into your mouth, watching the way you take him effortlessly and he ponders just how long you wanted this.

Him fucking your mouth turns to him fucking your breast - another request you had. His hands squeeze your breast together as his thumbs twirl against your hardened nipples.

“I didn’t know you were such a slut, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts.

“Only for you.” was your response that has him cumming again, cum shooting out and coating your breast.

The amount of sex that you and he have leads the both of you exhausted, sprawled out on his ruined sheets and both breathing heavily and sweaty. Jungkook’s mind wanders to how he was going to be able to look at you or his friend in the face again without feeling like a complete asshole.

Neither of you have time to think when a loud ringing sound comes from down the hall. It’s your phone and judging by the time, you can guess who it was. 

“It’ll go to voicemail.” you murmur to Jungkook. “He still thinks I’m at a friends.”

Jungkook's heart sinks but he nods.

“Wanna shower with me?” you ask, a hand placing onto his sweaty forehead. “We can both use it.”

Jungkook sniffs. “If that’s what you’d like. We can.” he says. “Y/N, I-”

You place a hand onto his lips to silence him. “I know, Kook.” you murmur. “You don’t need to let me down easily.”

Jungkook lifts himself to a seated position. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that.” he shakes his head. “I just…I want you to know that I do have love and respect for you.” 

You blink as Jungkook continues.

“And I don’t want you to think that I view you as…a slut or…any less than before.” Jungkook’s cheeks are a crimson color now. “I-”

“Kookie,” you lift your body so that you can grab his hands into your own. The nickname was one he hadn’t heard since middle school and it immediately caught his attention. “I get it. Trust me.” you say, a smile forming onto your lips. “Did you know…” you began, repeating the question from earlier. “...that I liked you?”

Jungkook's mouth goes dry and slowly, he shakes his head. It should be surprising as Jungkook was oblivious to any and every girl that liked him.

However, Jungkook does recall one moment - an instant in which Jay had stated that you and him could never be together. It was a random comment that came entirely out of nowhere, but it happened right after you kissed him.

“Jay knew.” you murmur. “I didn’t tell him but…he knew.” you look away. “I thought maybe he told you. I’m glad he didn’t.”

Jay wouldn’t have - not even now. 

Jungkook slowly inhales. A part of him feels even more like an asshole because this was a mistake. You had feelings for him that should’ve been obvious if he wasn’t such an idiot. Things are much more complicated now.

“Let’s shower.” you say, noticing the change in Jungkook’s demeanor. This was a one time thing that wouldn’t happen again and you’ll grow to be fine with that. “Then if you’re up for it, you can show me that movie you’ve been talking about.”

Jungkook nods slowly, allowing you to tug him off the bed and towards his bathroom. His mind wanders back to your confession and recalls just the amount of times he’s caught you looking his way and smiling shyly when he notices.

Off limits, he hears Jay’s voice say in his mind over and over again as you turn the water on to heat up. He was fucked.

@darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @chimmy-licious @investedreader @momnomnom

[zyafics]

can you write about rafe x sarahs bestfriend and reader keeps trying to get with rafe and he rejects her until he finally agrees and teases her around Sarah making reader nervous .. if you find a story like this LMK

truly didn't expect to write today, but ended up doing... this. hope you like it!

SOMEONE NEW | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing — Rafe x Sarah's BSF!Female Reader

Content — best friend's brother, fluff, she falls first/he falls harder

Word Count — 1.1K

Song — Someone New by Hozier

“What gives?”

Rafe surprises you. Sitting on a barstool at the Tannyhill estate, you assumed when Rafe returned home, he would ignore you the way he had done all his life. For the past couple of years, you’ve harbored an embarrassing crush on him that amounted to nothing. Sure, you never outright confessed, but you assumed he knew.

He had to.

The way you always strike up a flimsy conversation during late nights in the kitchen from your sleepovers with Sarah. The way you would always try to convince Sarah to join him and his friends at parties—only to be rejected of an invitation. The way you would always search for him to fill your cup, or take you home, whenever you and the Camerons end up at the same function.

You never told him but the signs were there.

Yet, nothing happened.

After spending a summer in the Bahamas, you decided it was time to put yourself first. You changed the way you dressed, the way you style your hair, the way you put on your makeup. It wasn’t for him, it wasn’t to impress him—it was for you. A new version deserved a new update, a new way to love, and you’re pulling out all the stops.

Now, back in Kildare, you’ve resumed your presence at the Tannyhill estate. Sarah invited you over for a sleepover, but she’s currently out getting some of the snacks. Leaving you to your own device, in her house, with the return of her brother.

Whom you didn’t even realize came home.

It fucks with him.

Because he’s used to you, his little sister’s best friend, always gawking at him from across the room. Always fetching him a beer from the fridge, or blushing whenever he comes into your proximity. Neither of that has happened since your return and Rafe can’t lie and say the loss of attention hasn’t bruised his ego.

But it’s something else. Something magnetizing about the air around you. He doesn’t know if it’s the change in styles or the sudden wave of confidence you’re exuding, but it’s different, and it’s intriguing him like never before.

“What?” You ask, lips parting and releasing the chewed-up plastic straw you were sipping on. His gaze drops to the fullness of your wetted lips, the new shade of lipgloss making them appear more delicious than ever before. His heart slightly patters—what the fuck? He thinks to himself. What is going on with me?

“What’s going on with you?” He asks, and your brows pull together. They’re shaped, manicured, threaded, the way he likes his women. But what remains is that subtle dip between your brows, that boasts the look of innocence from your features, reminding him of the same naivety and shy-natured he always adored.

“What do you mean?” You say with a quiet laugh.

“You’re different,” he observes, his eyes tracing the openness of your clothes. You’re wearing a stylistic top, one revealing your navel, and a piercing on your belly button. When the fuck did you get that?

You tilt your head to the side, your doe-shaped eyes blinking at him with pure curiosity. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he admits. You shrink under this proclamation, shoulders tightening, your legs crossing on the barstool, revealing the pretty anklet on your feet, dangling, in a way that makes him imagine what they would look like over his shoulders.

You frown, jutting out your bottom lip, and looking to the floor. “I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly.

“Not—” He pulls back, trying to find the right words. “Not in a bad way. You’re not… you.”

You blink up at him, “Like what?”

You don’t look for me anymore, he concludes, but he finds it pathetic to say. Instead, he settles with: “You’re just different.”

You scrunch your nose at his words, the way they wrinkle, it’s so adorable, he wants to cherish that sight. Rafe finds the courage to ask, “And you’re quiet. You always wanted to talk to me; did some other asshole catch your attention in the Bahamas?”

“Why do you assume they’re an asshole?”

“Most men are,”

“You included?” You ask, tilting your chin to look at him in a sort of challenge.

“Yeah,” he admits after a long silence. “I’m the worst kind.”

It makes you laugh again. In that same carefree, airy laugh that comes with ease. Something about that simple sound unwinds his shoulders, and Rafe takes in the moment as if he can stretch it on for an eternity. Fuck, he thought. What is it?

“What’s so funny?” Rafe asks, his throat suddenly dry. He needs a glass of water, but it’ll be hell before he tries to move from this spot.

“Nothing,” you say with a soft smile, “Just… Self-awareness is always a good first step.”

“So you think I’m an asshole?” He asks, stepping closer. His leg knocks at your feet, causing you to shift your position in a way that accommodates him. You still do that, Rafe recognizes, you’re still making room for him.

Good.

You bobble your head in contemplation, “I don’t think it’s a lie,”

“I can be better,” Rafe declares.

“Sure,” you drawl, unconvinced.

“I’ll be better for you,”

The words came tumbling out without a second thought, and all the presence of air is stolen from your lungs. Your eyes widen into this impossible size, filled with such valiant shock, that you’ve never demonstrated before. He almost wishes he can take back his confession.

But Sarah returns, coming into the room to break the tense air.

“Leave her alone, Rafe,” Sarah snaps, dropping two plastic bags of snacks onto the kitchen island. “Don’t you have some whore to entertain?”

Rafe drops his jaw playfully. “Don’t call your best friend that.”

”I—“ Sarah reddens from the accusation, sliding her gaze apologetically to you, but you laugh it off, gently pushing Rafe’s shoulder, and forcing a gap between you.

He hates it.

“I know,” you answer, smiling at your best friend and shaking your head softly. “He’s being an asshole."

You cut a look over to Rafe with a knowing smile like you’re sharing an inside joke, before returning your attention to your best friend. Rafe had half a mind to grab your chin and force your focus back on him—the other Cameron. “Do you need help carrying anything?”

“Nope,” Sarah shakes her head, grabbing the bags with one hand and using her other one to grab yours. “Let’s go.”

You beam, radiating the same contagious joy as before, but with a new set of layers that Rafe wants to strip down and uncover. Sarah pushes him to the side and moves to the stairs, and as you’re dragged up the steps, you do something you’ve never done before.

You don’t look back.

And in that moment, he realizes, fuck, he might’ve liked you more than he was willing to admit.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Yakuza - Valentine's Special

Romance is in the air and a certain yakuza is keen to teach you all about Valentine's traditions in Japan. Word Count: 4.2k Male Yandere x Fem Reader Mini Sequel to Yandere! Yakuza

As a hostess, you've been looking forward to Valentine's Day. Guests are notorious for spending big and tipping even bigger when romance is in the air.

One problem though. Your yakuza boyfriend does not approve.

"You don't have to work on Valentine's. My Family owns the club. I should get a say."

You ignore his complaining and the arms wrapped around your waist. You're focused on your makeup and no handsome, dangerous yakuza is going to distract you.

He changes tactics. "Onegaiya de? [Please?] Pretty please?"

You sigh and reach up to run your fingers through his hair. "Of course I want to stay home with you. But I need money. If you've forgotten, my brother still owes you. And besides, the house mother told me to come in today."

He frowns. "Naze? [Why?]"

"I'm very good at my job, that's why."

You manage to finish both your lashes and your lipstick before he speaks up again.

"Kurabu ni issho ni ikimasu. [I'm coming with you to the club.]"

You aren't surprised. It seems like he spends all his free time as your customer. As though being in a relationship isn't enough. As though he wants to have you both during and after work.

You turn and plant a kiss on his cheek. You leave behind a lipstick mark that he's in no hurry to wipe off. "If you want to spend all your money on me, I'm definitely not going to complain."

He grins in that lazy way of his and loops his arms fully around your waist. "Anata wa watashi no kanojodesu [you're my girl]. Who else would I spend my cash on?"

He drives you to work with one hand on your thigh. It gives you butterflies - the warmth of his skin bleeding through the fabric of your dress, the way he sometimes squeezes the meat of your leg like he subconsciously wants to remind himself that you're still there.

When he opens the car door for you, he brushes his lips past your ear. "Got a real nice surprise for you later."

You stop and pretend to fix your heels so you can look up at him through your lashes. "Is it the same surprise as last time? Because I loved that one."

Big, scary guy that he is, you think you can still see him swallow and freeze when you look up at him like that. He takes you hand and steadies you but the eyes that trace over your body are hooded, unreadable. "Not what I had in mind this time, no."

He inhales sharply when you step past him and 'accidentally' brush your hand over his belt.

"Too bad," you say, "I love that thing you do with your tongue."

It takes him a second to catch up with you. When he does, he wraps his arm around your waist and hisses in your ear.

"Anta, ijiwaruya na. [You unbearable tease]."

You can't help but smile. Personally, you'd describe yourself as an unbearable, romantic tease. It being Valentine's and all.

You're honestly looking forward to spending your shift with him. Even though he's started calling himself your kareshi, he still doesn't talk about himself much. You're not offended by it. There are a thousand little ways you've pieced together his past. The way he likes his sake hot and the way he turns his nose up at high end sushi, the way he holds his cigarette when he smokes and the way he can flick a match on his thumb. It all tells you a bit more than he'd probably like you to know. And each date you go on, each shift that he spends entirely focused on you, is just another opportunity for you to untangle the mystery that is your yakuza.

Unfortunately, the boss has other plans. You don't even get a chance to sit down before one of the other enforcers pulls him aside. He frowns at whatever the man is saying and then quickly presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Gomen ya de, daisukinahito. Shigotoya nen. [Sorry love. Gotta work]."

He's out the door before you can even object. The house mother narrows in on your table and less than a minute later she has a client seated across from you. She's built a habit of trying to cram as many customers into your schedule as possible when your boyfriend isn't around to steal you away. You can almost admire her dedication.

The first client of the night is a salaryman already happily flushed with drink. He tips you well, buys you several rounds of expensive drinks and gives you a drunken kiss on the cheek before he leaves. A very typical Valentine's date.

You get through a few more without any issues. Mostly businessmen not willingly to go home to an empty apartment. Your wallet gets noticeably fatter after each one. It's long past midnight when things finally go sour.

You're touching up your lipstick when the yakuza walk through the door. You can tell what they are at first glance. And worse, you know these aren't the usual guys.

You expect trouble. You aren't sure when you developed an instinct for yakuza business, but you know that the newcomers most definitely aren't part of the Family.

You try and watch them as subtly as you can. One of the regular enforcers goes up to meet them and - surprisingly - leads them to the back of the club.

The group passes right next to you. You keep your eyes on your compact and lipstick like you've never seen anything quite so interesting as YSL Loveshine. At the last second you look up, and straight into the eyes of a bleached blonde gangster with a mean smile. He must have been looking at you already, because he shoots you a playboy wink.

On instinct, you bow your head. Even if they weren't your Family, it wasn't a good idea to be caught lacking in respect.

When they're finally gone, you sigh in relief. Talk about scary. Those guys looked like their favourite pastime was baseball; the faces and knee cap variety.

You're about to get up and take your break when something makes you look over your shoulder. The blonde yakuza is leaning against the wall just outside the staff-only door. And looking straight at you.

Oh, please not today. You already have one yakuza in your bed and almost constantly blowing up you phone. You want absolutely nothing to do with Mr Tall, Blonde and Evil.

No such luck. He says something to the enforcer next to him and beelines towards you. Eyes locked on yours.

He slides in next to you - not across where a client would normally sit. You shift over to make room for him and wonder if there's something in the water that makes you particularly noticeable to men with a nicotine and tattoo addiction.

"Omae, jitto mi teruyan ka. Na n ya, kiniitta n kai, kawaī ko. [I noticed you staring. Like what you see, pretty girl?]"

His voice is raspier than your boyfriend's. And meaner too.

You can just...pretend to not speak Japanese. But one look at the blond's sharp, lazy smile tells you he'll know you for a liar the second you open your mouth.

"Omaeni mo onaji ko to kiitē wa, ikemen-san. [I could ask you the same thing, pretty boy.]"

He laughs, "She's got an attitude! Not scared of a big, scary yakuza?"

"Are you supposed to be telling me that about yourself?" You lean your chin on your palm and tilt your head. "What if I'm a cop?"

"Then you can put me in handcuffs right now." He let's his eyes roam down your body. "I'll happily do whatever you want, officer."

Okay. Pervert yakuza number two added to your collection. Could you get out of this somehow? A client is a client but you don't want to be next to him any longer than necessary.

"Don't you want a girl who can speak Japanese? I'm still not very good."

"What I want? We won't really be talking if we do what I want."

He pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and lights one with an easy flick of his lighter. He inhales deeply and let's the smoke out of his nose, like a dragon.

"You got a boyfriend?"

That really does seem to be the first question these guys ask you. What happened to 'how are you?' and 'here's a fat stack of cash, do you want it?'

"Yes." You shrug, like this is just a casual conversation with another client and not a rival with a gun under his suit jacket. "He's part of the Family."

"Wakatta wa. [I see]." He offers you a pull of his cigarette. You almost decline, but you look into his eyes - a dark hazel - and realise what a bad idea that would be.

He holds your gaze as he presses the cigarette against your lips. You pull on it as lightly as you can, the tip flaring a bright orange.

It burns your throat and you turn away from him to cough out the smoke. God, that stuff is awful. Why the hell is your man always lighting one if this is what they taste like?

When you turn back to him, the yakuza is studying the cigarette. Your lipstick left a stain on the filter. Slowly, he brings it to his lips and covers the place where your own lips were. He pulls in deeply and tilts his head back, eyes closed.

"Sweeter than normal," he breathes.

Nope. Nope. Nope. It's flattering really, but you aren't an idiot. You don't want your boyfriend's rival sitting so close to you, you don't want him looking at you with eyes like liquid honey and you most definitely don't want him calling you sweet.

If you could telepathically summon your boyfriend, you would. Unfortunately, he's busy with whatever it is they took him off to do, and you're stuck making conversation with a man who's arm keeps inching tighter and tighter around your shoulders.

You try to stand up and excuse yourself, but he wraps a palm around your thigh and pulls you back down without even trying.

"I need to pee," you tell him. He grins, cigarette casting his features in shadow.

"Perfect. I'm really thirsty."

Alright then. Ultimate host club perv discovered. It's almost a relief. You were worried your boyfriend would continue to hold that unenviable title.

You're about to say something - probably along the lines of it would go down even better with a vodka chaser - when your boyfriend finally arrives. You can tell it's him by the way he let's the door almost slam shut behind him. (You've tried working on that but every time you bring it up, he just says that you're so cute when you're bossy and won't you please take that tone with him later tonight?)

The blonde must have followed your line of sight, because his grip gets just a little tighter on you. "That your boyfriend?"

He's already heading toward your table and his frown spells trouble.

"Yep." You wonder if the blonde would listen to you if you tried to warn him away. You doubt it.

Your yakuza's hair is messy and his sleeves are still rolled to his elbows. He must have come straight from whatever job he got called away for.

He stops right in front of you, his arms crossed.

"Times up," he says simply. "Her shift is over."

The blonde takes another pull from his cigarette. "This your girl?"

Your boyfriend tenses, "Un. Kanojo wa watashi no monodesu. [Yeah. She's mine]."

You can almost feel the room getting colder. Your boyfriend flicks his eyes at the other yakuza standing at the back of the club.

"What are you doing here?"

"Boss had business with your side of things. Said I could throw back. Sample the goods." Blondie runs his palm up your thigh. "I'd have risked coming over ages ago, if I knew you had such cute pieces."

Your boyfriend narrows his eyes. "Times. Up. She's got another date waiting."

The blonde yakuza makes a show of looking at his wristwatch. "Looks like I've still got five more minutes."

"Your watch is late." Every word is bitten off and curt. You've seen him serious before, but never like this. Is this what he's like when he's working?

It's easy to forget his job when he's sprawled in your bed with his head on your chest, muttering about letting him sleep for five more minutes. It's easy to forget that he's a gangster who breaks faces for a living. That he's dangerous.

After tonight, you don't think you'll ever forget that fact. It's terrifying to be across from him, even if his glare isn't directed at you.

The moment stretches - taut, awfully tense. Finally, the blonde breaks.

"Tch. I've got shit to do anyway."

He stands up - and just when you're about to sigh in relief - kisses you right on the mouth. You jerk backwards, more surprised than anything else.

He straightens and runs his fingers over his lips. "Even sweeter than I thought."

You scramble out of the booth and grab your boyfriend's arm before he can do anything stupid. The muscles under your palms are already coiled tight and you're terrified to see what might happen if that strength is unleashed.

You bow in a quick, half hearted way. "O jikan o itadaki arigatōgozaimasu. [Thank you for your time]."

And then you're dragging your man out of the club before he can muster any objections.

It's only when the cold February wind is kissing your cheeks that you dare to look over at him. He's looking back at the club, eyes narrowed.

"How long?" he asks quietly.

"Barely even ten minutes," you half lie. "Really. He didn't do anything until you showed up, I promise."

You tug at his hand. "It's late. Let's go home, please?"

He finally looks at you, eyes flat and face blank. That scares you even worse than if he was frothing at the mouth and swearing.

"Alright," he says mechanically, "Let's go home."

Usually you take the train to work or he drives you. So when he starts walking, you don't immediately realise the streets are all wrong. His car is nowhere to be seen.

Even though Spring isn't that far off, this late at night the city is still icy. You wrap your arms around yourself and it doesn't take him long to notice.

"Koko. Kore o kite kudasai. [Here. Wear this]." He pulls off his suit jacket and drapes it across your shoulders. It smells like him - cologne and cigarettes. You aren't sure when, but at some point that scent became the one you associated with safety, with home.

It's quiet. You can't exactly ask him what work he did while he was gone and you most definitely aren't going to mention the club again.

He's the one who finally breaks the silence. "Purezento o moraimashita. [I got you a present]."

He did mention that earlier.

"Can I guess what it is?"

That earns you a half smile."Mochiron. [Sure]."

"Chocolate."

"No. Not this time."

"Hmm... Flowers?"

"They make you sneeze."

True. But what else would he have bought you for Valentine's?

"A puppy?"

He doesn't immediately reply. Eventually, "I really didn't think about that one. Do you...want a puppy?"

You first instinct is to say yes. Who wouldn't want a puppy? Despite having him, your brother, and your friends from the club, Japan is still a lonely place for you. A puppy would remind you of home.

But it would also make Japan your new home. In a way you aren't sure you want. In your mind, it still feels like you'll leave soon, be gone next week or next month, when this debt issue is settled. Even your boyfriend feels temporary. This isn't your country.

"No," you say eventually, "Not yet."

He must be thinking along the same lines as you because at your reply, his smile thins and he looks away from you.

"Nande ya, ano ko ni inu demo kattaro ka. Muriyari ore to ora setaru wa. [Shoulda got her a damn puppy. Force her to stay with me]."

You don't understand Japanese well enough to understand him when he changes his dialect. He manages a smile.

"Not a puppy either. Do you give up?"

You hate losing. You pull his jacket tighter around yourself. "...Yeah I give up."

He slows to a stop."Mewotojite. [Close your eyes]."

He takes your hand in his and lays something in your palm. You open your eyes to see a diamond necklace on a bed on midnight blue velvet. And it's definitely diamond - even in the neon soaked streets of the Red Light District, it sparkles. You gasp.

You're almost scared to touch it. It looks beyond expensive. Like something you pass in a store window and tell yourself maybe someday.

"You like it?"

You look up at him, eyes wide. "It's incredible. I've never... I've never owned something this beautiful."

He looks beyond smug. He plucks it out of the box and in one smooth move has it around your throat. His fingers brush the nape of your neck as he fastens the clip.

If you were on you own, you'd never dare to wear it out on the street. But only a colossal idiot would try and grab it off your neck when there was an armed yakuza right next to you. You shouldn't feel safer in the company of a criminal, but you do. God help you, you do.

He presses a kiss against your temple."Watashi no gārufurendo ni totte saikō no mono dake.[Only the best for my girl]."

It scares you a little - how much he's willing to spend on you. How are you supposed to repay a gift like this?

"Ie ni kaerimashou.[Let's go home]," he coos in your ear.

You laugh and loop your arm through his. "Want me to show you exactly how much I love my gift?"

"Yes." His voice is low and almost strained. "God yes."

It's only when you're halfway down the street that you remember you have something for him too.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" you spin away from him and dig through your handbag. "Ta-da! A hostess at work was telling me that it's usually the girls who give gifts on Valentine's."

You hand over the chocolate you bought him. It's a thick slab with Turkish delight in the centre. You've stuck a plethora of pink and red hearts to the box, each one with a sappy little quote in the centre.

You feel a little silly giving a gift like this to a yakuza of all people. But you also want to do something for your boyfriend, even if it is sickeningly romantic.

You picked up on him liking Turkish delight when your brother bought you a box, and it was mysteriously empty when you got home that day. Your yakuza claimed he didn't touch it, but he tasted suspiciously like rose candy when you kissed him.

He takes it from you carefully. "For me?"

You stand on your toes and loop your arms around his neck.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

He's quiet for a moment or two, looking at you like he just can't understand you. Finally, he pulls you into him and buries his face in your neck. He takes a deep breath, but when he speaks his voice is just a bit unsteady.

"Of course I'll be yours. Ore wa zutto omae no mon'ya de. [I'll always be yours.]"

A man with a rap sheet as long as a CVS receipt, and somehow he's yours.

You pull him closer against you. "Thank you. For taking care of me. For helping me out when you had no reason to."

He hums quietly against your neck. "Nan demo surude, honma ni nan demo. [I'll do anything for you. Anything]."

He pulls away and something in his face tells you he's just had an idea. He peels the hearts off the box and carefully folds them into his pocket. He breaks off a piece of chocolate and holds it up to your mouth.

You're immediately suspicious of the smirk on his face, but you oblige and let him prop the chocolate between your lips. He leaves a piece sticking out of your mouth and before you can bite it off, he leans forward and does it for you. His hand slips around the nape of your neck to keep you still.

His lips barely brush yours.

He pulls away looking extremely satisfied. You've kissed him so many times already but your heart doesn't care. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears.

"Sweet," he runs his thumb across your bottom lip and then presses it against his tongue. "Just how I like it."

Damn him for a devil and a half. It's so totally unfair how giddy and nervous he makes you feel.

He nods at the building behind you. "Good thing we're already home."

"Home?" Is this his apartment? He never brings you to his apartment.

He leads you to the elevator and to your surprise has to use a key card to access the highest floor. The buildings in this part of town are cramped for space but when the elevator dings open, it does so in a broad corridor lined with heavy doors. He must be earning much more than you realised, to have a place like this.

He pauses on the threshold.

"Gotta carry you in. It's tradition."

"Only if we're newlyweds."

"Not true," He blatantly lies, hands drifting down your back. "Brings you luck for the rest of the year."

Before you can object, he sweeps his arm under your knees and scoops you up bridal style.

"Risuku wa toritakunai de. Un wa zenbu hoshī wa. [Not taking any chances. I want all the luck I can get]."

You don't get to see much of his loft-style apartment before he drops you on his bed. One knee already pressing into the mattress next to your waist.

He drops his head down to kiss the column of your throat.

"You'll be wearing nothing except your necklace when I'm done with you," he promises, voice already dropping to a slurred, needy growl.

Oh my. That's a new one. And you always took him for the lacy lingerie type.

You tug at his shirt but with one twist of his hand, he catches both your wrists. "No. You first."

"Impatient aren't we?"

His hands are already skimming down your back and unzipping your dress.

"Oh you have no idea how patient I'm being."

His lips dip past your collarbones and then lower still. You arch against his chest, breathless.

At the last second he pulls away. You practically whine.

"Move in with me."

You blink. "What?" Is he really asking you this while you're in your bra and panties? And when there are much better things to do with his mouth?

"You heard me. Maiban beddoni ite hoshī. [I want you in my bed everynight]."

You frown. Wouldn't it be dangerous? More dangerous than working in a yakuza club and sharing his bed already was?

His grip on you tightens. He isn't smiling anymore. "You're my girl. You should stay with me. Not your brother. And sure as hell not on your own."

"I-"

He slides down your body until his head is between your thighs. "Good. I'll get someone to move your things tomorrow."

"Wait, I didn't say -" He does something with his tongue that makes you gasp and arch your back.

"No more objections?" he mocks. You're too breathless to answer.

"Ēyan. Kikitakatta kotoya wa. [Good. Just what I want to hear]."

He's awake long before sunrise. You're still curled under his sheets, lovebites littered across your neck.

He didn't give you a chance to notice them last night, but there's a bouquet of roses waiting for you on the nightstand.

He leans in the balcony door, cigarette smoke curling between his teeth. Just watching you.

His girl. His to touch. His to have. His to hold and keep.

Do you have any idea how lucky you are that it was him you ran into that night? If it was anyone else sent to collect your brother's debt, they'd have just left you to drown under the mountain of interest. Let it get so bad that you couldn't possibly pay your way out and then offer you a job at a soapland. Hell, that was his plan too when he first laid eyes on you. Pretty thing like you would have made a fortune as a yūjo.

But then you went and made him fall for you. It's selfish of him to want you. He knows it's dangerous to have you on his arm. That blonde bastard from last night was proof enough. He knows, and still...

You can't expect a criminal to be selfless. You can't show him something precious and expect him to let it go.

"My girl." He exhales a cloud of smoke and leans his head back. "Gonna make you my wife someday. You just don't know it yet."

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Falling Behind

Synopsis: The Prefect has ADHD and was medicated for it back in their old world, but when they go to Crowley for help getting a diagnosis here, he brushes them off. They proceed to struggle until finally breaking down. (+ Crewel basically steps up as a father figure)

TW: Pretty descriptive with the negative effects of The Prefect's ADHD, Talk of medication, The Prefect cries, Crowley says the usual things people who deny/downplay ADHD say, Crewel has the "Help me help you talk" with The Prefect, The Prefect cries and is overall just GOING THROUGH IT

NOTE: I went off of my experience as a person diagnosed with ADHD and medicated for it. My experience with it won't apply to everyone else with it, but rest assured this won't be a fic that portrays ADHD like a silly, goofy little quirk. (This is a pretty self-indulgent fic, tbh)

Many people who are diagnosed with ADHD and medicated accordingly have the thought cross their minds every once in a while of "Do I really need the medicine?" When you're on ADHD medication for long enough, you forget what it's like to not function at the level you do when taking it. The memories of the difficulty focusing can slip away with time and leave you doubting. You were no exception.

Key word is were.

When you got thrown into Twisted Wonderland you learned pretty quickly that the medicine in fact does help and that you in fact do need it.

But how would you even go about getting it here? You'd need a diagnosis and for that you'd need a psychiatrist and for that you'd need money (and an official identity which you did not have as an alien to this world).

You tried bringing it up to Crowley, but he brushed it off. He said the same lines you had heard 100 times before, many of which you found yourself thinking from time to time: "You just need to make yourself work. You're unmotivated." and, while he didn't say it out loud, you could clearly tell that what he was really saying was that you were lazy.

You suppose you should have expected as much. No headmage that gave two hoots about mental health would be running a school that has no student counselor.

After that interaction you had resigned yourself to the fact that you'd have to come to terms with being a student and doing schoolwork with no relief to your condition.

You tried your best, you really did. You sat at your desk for hours on end as you tried to finish a simple homework sheet, but hours passed with virtually no progress being made. You couldn't force yourself to focus. When you did your body protested. Your brain refused to allow a single proper thought to form and your eyes wouldn't focus. If you forced the issue further, it only got worse. Your brain and eyes felt somehow heavier than usual and sometimes you swore they were slowly liquifying to a goo in your skull.

You didn't bring it up to your friends. You felt weird talking about it with them. One too many times being told you were faking or doing it for attention you suppose.

Your grades began to slip. Deadlines popped up when you could have sworn you had more time. You made little mistakes you chastised yourself for. You knew the material. You knew you knew the material.

. . .so why were you messing up.

Assignments piled up and slipped through the cracks. It's not like your teachers could notice how out of character this was for you. They didn't know how well you typically functioned when medicated, and it's not like you told them about the disorder in the first place.

Each night you held back tears of frustration as you tried desperately to get any work done. You weren't one to cry easily. In fact, you hadn't cried since you got to Twisted Wonderland, and even before that it had been a while since you last allowed tears to drip from your eyes.

But everyone has a breaking point.

You had gotten so far behind on your assignments that it was decided you needed more than to simply stay in the classroom to work during lunch and you were put in after school tutoring (although it felt more like detention).

The first few weeks you managed to keep it together. You taped over the holes that chipped away into your composure and did your best to hold down the storm of emotions that thrashed violently inside of you.

Another day of after school tutoring came around. By now not even Grim was having to stay for these sessions. There were other students that were in them, but they were in a separate classroom. You knew what was happening even if nobody outright said it.

You sat in Crewel's empty classroom for the second week in a row. The clock on the wall ticked impossibly loud. Every sound around you was amplified tenfold and you could feel it wearing on you. Your arms shook in a sick combination of frustration and exhaustion as you tried in vain to get one question done.

You could feel the ugly jaws of your pent-up emotions gnashing away at your already tattered walls of composure.

Crewel sighed as you once again failed to answer the question: "Look, I really do want to help you, but in order for that to happen I need you to cooperate and listen to me. Right now, it feels like you aren't doing that."

You had had this conversation with him before; with all your teachers for that matter. You used to it. YOU WERE USED TO IT.

You chanted the phrase in your head over and over again.

"What do you not understand."

He didn't say it in a malicious way. He sounded genuine, just. . .exhausted.

He didn't know. He wasn't aware of the storm in your stomach slowly making its way to your eyes. He didn't know.

You don't blame him, but when he said those words you finally broke.

It wasn't anything grand or dramatic like you see in movies. A small catch of your breath in a short-lived attempt to hold it together and then tears. You choked on your sobs as you tried to quell them. The only thing worse than crying is crying in front of people.

Your knees curled up onto the bench, up to your chest, and you hugged them: trying to hide your face and muffle your sobs.

It was no use. Crewel already saw the tears.

He was momentarily stunned at how suddenly you seemed to break down and could only watch as your whole body shook with the sobs you were trying so desperately to hold in.

When he finally snapped out of it he was still unsure of what to do, so he did the only thing he could.

You felt his large, fluffy coat be draped over your shoulders before he somewhat awkwardly sat a comfortable distance away from you as he waited for you to calm down.

When your sobs finally quieted to small whimpers he apologized for making you cry.

You explained it wasn't his fault and, after a bit of silence, you explained to him what was wrong.

He sat with you and listened patiently as you told him about your ADHD, the trouble you'd been having since you got here, and finally recounted your interaction with Crowley.

He led you to the infirmary not far from his office, telling you he'd be back soon and to rest for the time being.

Luckily for Crewel, the headmage's office was just about as far away from the infirmary as it could be.

He could scream as loud as he wanted without disturbing you.

By the time he returned to the infirmary it was late. He was about to apologize for leaving you there so long but stopped himself.

There on the bed was your exhausted form curled up in his coat and sleeping peacefully.

The next day he asked you a few more questions, and the day after that, he accompanied you to the doctor's office. (you didn't bother asking how he managed to get you registered as an actual person)

You went through suspiciously less steps than you had back in your old world to get the diagnosis, but you just chalked it up to the fact that it was clear by your appearance that you had been going through it.

You got your medicine the same day. Wait. . .did Crewel just tell the pharmacist he was picking it up for his child?

Blog Navigation Page

TWST Masterlist

Request Information

[mimiii-3]

Batsib finally getting attention because daimg goes off on everyone ??

Imagine this.. batsib and darling are rlly close and batfam hates it. Darling eventually getting annoyed of the neglect that batsib is getting so they go off on the family, and the family realizes and now give the yandere treatment to batsib instead 😭‼️

Great idea!

…

Saboteur: Obsession

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: typical yandere themes

…

What if Batsib became the family’s new obsession…

🦇- it has only been about a month since darling’s outburst but it feels like a whole year

🦇- you lay in bed, numbly staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across the ceiling

🦇- the freshly planted camera in your room adjusts its lens to focus on your motionless form

🦇- you should have never said anything. You should have been grateful

🦇- sure your family could care less about you…but at least you were free

🦇- you let your thoughts drift to the day that this all started

🦇- the day that darling accidentally ruined your life

1 month ago

🦇- you lay on the fuzzy rug, attempting to pinch the worn material of the old jean jacket

🦇- you bite your lip in concentration as you thread the needle

🦇- darling chuckles at your focused state while attempting to sew a small tear in your jacket

🦇- “Didn’t Alfred teach you how to sew,” they ask before snatching the needle and jacket out of your hands.

🦇- you purse your lips in irritation and embarrassment. “Of course he didn’t teach me,” you think.

🦇- Darling expertly sews the torn jacket and throws it back to you.

🦇- you catch the jacket and eye their handiwork. It’s good. Alfred must have taught them well.

🦇- you look up to find darling staring at you expectantly. They’re waiting for an answer

🦇- “No, he never taught me. He doesn’t like me much.”

🦇- they pause and think for a minute. “That doesn’t sound like Alfred. Are you sure he doesn’t like you? Maybe you should try and ask again,” Darling rambles.

🦇- your rub at your forehead in irritation. They just don’t understand

🦇- “Alfred doesn’t like me. None of them do.”

🦇- Darling quiets down at your statement. They crawl over to your side on the bright pink rug, “well even if Alfred doesn’t like you, I’m sure dad does.”

🦇- you shake your head. “Dick?” You shake your head again. “Tim?” You sake your head for the third time in row. “Damian?” At the mention of Damian you let out a deep laugh

🦇- “Those three have told me how much they hate me more times than I can count. I appreciate that you care but they will never love me the same way they love you,” you sigh melodramatically.

🦇- at the thought of just how much your family hates you, your laughter kicks back up again

🦇- it’s funny really. They love their kidnapping victim more than their actual family. Why wouldn’t they?

🦇- while getting over your bout of laughter, you miss the stormy look in darling’s eyes

…

🦇- you were working on your book nook when out of nowhere you hear screaming and the sound of glass shattering

🦇- you quickly drop what you’re doing and race down the mahogany stairway

🦇- in the hallway, darling stands in front of a mess of shattered vases and picture frames that were impossibly expensive

🦇- your father and brothers surround them. Nervously assessing the damage and what could have possibly set them off

🦇- Damian looks up and spots you on the stairs, “what have you down now you hellion?!”

🦇- “no,” Darling interrupts, “I won’t let you talk to them like that!”

🦇- Damian’s eyes widen at darling’s tone. He drops his tough guy act and looks down in shame

🦇- “you all have to start being nicer to them! They’re my big sibling and if you can’t respect them, then I don’t have to respect you,” Darling huffs

🦇- Bruce puts his hands up in a show of peace and tentatively approaches darling. He takes their hands in his and offers a small smile, “sure thing, kiddo. Anything you want.”

🦇- darling looks back at you with a wide grin. They shoot you a quick thumbs up before taking your father’s hand again and dragging him to the cinema room

🦇- you can feel the air shift and your stomach drops instantly. Dick, Tim, and Damian all stare at you with unreadable expressions.

🦇- Dick clears his throat, “well come on then. We’re watching a movie.”

🦇- Dick holds his hand out to you. It’s different than the way your father reached his hand out to darling. It feels like an obligation. What would happen if you didn’t take his hand? What would happen if you ran back up the stairs?

🦇- Dick seemingly reads your mind and closes the distance to grab your hand. He pulls you down the remaining steps so quickly you almost fall.

🦇- His grip on your hand is tight as he marches down the unending hallway. Tim and Damian walk on either side of you and Dick. You can feel their stares burning the back of your head.

🦇- Your heart feels like it’s about to beat right out your chest. This doesn’t feel right. Darling says one thing and they all just obey. That’s it?

🦇- Your thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of a new pair of eyes watching you. You tilt your head back a bit and look up. Dick is staring at you. His piercing blue eyes look like they’re gazing into your soul.

🦇- You try to read him but fail. You look back at your feet as you all round the corner into the cinema room. You can hear the opening score. It’s The Shining.

🦇- “How fitting,” you think bitterly.

Present Day

🦇- hot tears cascade down your face and dampen the pillow beneath you

🦇- you’re so stupid

🦇- you should have never said anything to darling. They meant well, they truly did. But this is not what you wanted

🦇- your quiet tears transform into hiccuping sobs

🦇- the loudness of your cries shocks some sense into you. you quickly slap your hand over your mouth

🦇- with bated breath, you watch the door

🦇- please don’t come in, please don’t come in, please don’t come in

🦇- the handle turns slowly

🦇- Dick and Tim enter the room. Tim scans your teary face, “why are you crying? Is something wrong?”

🦇- Dick rubs sleepily at his eyes and sits down at the end of your bed. There’s that look again. A mix of adoration and a predator-like gaze. What does it even mean?

🦇- Tim waves his hand in front of your face. “I asked you a question,” he hisses.

🦇- you sit up in bed, “sorry, I was just thinking about that new show I started. The one with the president and the underground dome. It made me a little emotional just thinking about it.”

🦇- you chuckle nervously before wiping at the almost dry tears on your face

🦇- Tim takes a step back and you try not to let the relief show. “That’s fine,” he sighs, “try and get some sleep.”

🦇- Tim turns around and head back to the door. You peer over at Dick and find him still staring at you.

🦇- “is that the show with the apocalypse and the fake sun?” His sudden question shocks you. Did he know about the show himself? Or had he been spying on you while you watched it a few days ago?

🦇- “yup! That’s the one. Y’know I think you’d like it. Maybe you should check it out sometime,” you say with a faux cheeriness.

🦇- “Hm. Maybe I’ll join you for the next episode.”

🦇- you smile at Dick and try to mask your disappointment at his answer. He rises from his spot on your bed and approaches you

🦇- Dick raises his hand and pets your head. “Tim’s right. Get some sleep.”

🦇- you nod and shoot him a small smile. He doesn’t return it and instead turns and walks to the door

🦇- Tim is still standing in the doorway with his arms folded. You wave bye at him and he leaves without another glance.

🦇- “Night,” Dick mutters and shuts the door behind him.

🦇- you lay back down and let out a breath you had been holding

🦇- the sound of the camera lens adjusting returns a minute or two later

🦇- it means that Tim has made it back to his room and is watching you again

🦇- no more crying

🦇- you’d rather suffer in silence than have that awkward interaction happen again

🦇- you turn in bed and pull the thick covers over your head. You grab your red panda plushie and pull it closer to you

🦇- you can’t take much more of this. Their overbearing nature is starting to wear at you psyche

🦇- they’re insane. You should’ve called Commissioner Gordon the second they kidnapped darling

🦇- maybe this is what you deserve. A life of imprisonment in exchange for your complicitness in the kidnapping of darling

🦇- yes, you were complicit but you didn’t know any better. You thought going along with their plan would make them love you

🦇- turns out you were right. It just didn’t go at all like you thought it would

🦇- sure, you’ve made some mistakes in your quest for love and family. But you don’t deserve this

🦇- you don’t plan on being kept here like a pet for the rest of your life

🦇- there’s only one solution: escape

…

Extra notes: this one was kinda long

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96 @yaoizee @bellethesleepypotato @salfishers @eli-mayhaveatencats @wisefuncherryblossom @c4xcocoa @twismare @icanmeltanigloo @tatsuri-zomushiki

[superbat-lmao]

A mage who doesn’t like child soldiers targets Batman in Gotham. They know that several vigilantes connected to him are children or were children when they started.

Their vendetta against him basically boils down to, “What the hell were you thinking?” and they cast a spell against him accordingly.

Every day, a new family member will be able to read Bruce’s mind for 24 hours. It’s entirely random and the definition of “family member” is incredibly loose, but everyone knows the Robins are his children because of how berserk he went when Robin II died.

On the one hand, it’s a horrific violation of everyone’s privacy.

On the other, Bruce finally figures out what his kids think of him and don’t say. And his kids are finally able to realize that yes, he cares about them exactly as much as they want him to. He’s literally the absolute worst at showing it or communicating that, but he cares.

Dick gets confirmation that Bruce knows how good he is, how capable he is to lead a team. That Bruce doesn’t secretly think that when he screws up it’s because he isn’t cut out to be a vigilante. When he screws up, Bruce gets scared and lashes out in the only way an emotionally repressed father can, by making it worse. That Bruce doesn’t think Dick is incapable of looking after himself or making the right call. All of Bruce’s attempts to control Dick or his life were because he was scared. Because he wanted Dick to be better than him, and he is, just not in the ways Bruce was first able to see. Having more friends and being connected to people is infinitely more important than college, though it took time for Bruce to see that. Dick is Bruce’s first son and he couldn’t be more proud.

Jason realizes that Bruce loves him. That he tears himself apart over their relationship. That he feels there’s a clear line between Bruce’s opinion of Jason and of Jason’s actions. Because murder is wrong and Bruce’s philosophy is grounded in second chances. Because he just wants Jason to come home and his son’s actions scare him because he’s more isolated from backup than his brothers. Jason can literally feel how Bruce thinks, how he sees murder and how he thinks about himself. Bruce doesn’t think it’s a line he would be able to walk away from, and Jason feels more precarious seeing the world as his father thinks about it than in his own head. There is far less judgement in Bruce’s thoughts. Just pure concern. And self doubt over what to say. Bruce never sought to replace him, would have joined him, and has missed him. Those were always Jason’s major concerns.

Tim sees that Bruce views him as his son. That he wasn’t a substitute for Jason and he doesn’t secretly think Tim shouldn’t have been Robin. Bruce thinks that Tim reminds him a lot of himself and based on all the things people say about him, that makes Bruce nervous. Because he wants Tim to have fun and be a kid, not feel chained to work the way Bruce is. He knows they both have workaholic tendencies and wants better for Tim, wants him to have friends and a life outside of work. But Tim also knew Bruce at his lowest and so he will always feel guilty that it was Tim who pulled him out of his grief spiral, because Bruce wasn’t strong enough to do it himself.

Damian learns that Bruce was so excited for him to be born and devastated when he thought Talia had lost the pregnancy. That he was furious his son had been hidden from him. That he loves Damian and loved Talia and wasn’t sure how to separate out those feelings. That he would have wanted Damian no matter his level of training, if he gave up this lifestyle or anything. That there is nothing Damian, or any of his family could do to make Bruce stop loving them. Damian is wanted. He can also see that Bruce struggles with knowing how to handle him being a kid that acts like an adult. How he knows how capable Damian is, but that no children should go through that. Bruce didn’t have that sort of childhood. And while his own wasn’t exactly happy, he still got to be a kid. And innocence and youth aren’t things to be looked down on, just experienced. And Bruce doesn’t want Damian to not have those experiences, even if he doesn’t value them as others do. He learns that Bruce trusts him and that his father feels emotions acutely and strongly, such that he becomes reactive in a way that feels accusatory or disappointed but is just afraid.

They all realize that Bruce needs them and hates himself for needing them. That they are his children and he loves them and wants them safe. But that those feelings constantly war with how capable they are, how good his children are at what they do. How much they care about the helping and protecting others. That every time he says something they beat themselves up over, it’s because he’s scared they’ll get hurt or make a mistake that they can’t undo and will have to live with. He never wanted them to join him and it’s not because he thought they couldn’t do it, but precisely because he knows they can. And that sometimes, that isn’t enough. Even metas can get hurt and even Superman could die. By comparison his children are so vulnerable and there’s only so much he can do to keep them safe.

Does he verbalize this?

Bruce thinks so.

But all his kids hear is:

You were too reckless.

You disobeyed orders.

You’re off patrol.

And oddly? This solves like half of the current problems his kids have with him. Because they never really believed him before and always felt the conversations were one-sided.

It does create several new problems thought because Bruce just had like a significant invasion of privacy as the most paranoid person on the planet, so it takes a while for him to calm down and actually work things out with his kids in a way that lasts and isn’t just a bandaid over a bullet hole.

[qqueenofhades]

This legal badass giving the Trumpsters their latest hard time in court is U.S. District Judge Ana C. Reyes. She was appointed to the federal bench in February 2023 by Joe Biden. She was born in Uruguay and spent a lot of her early career doing pro bono work for refugees and women escaping sexual violence. She is also the first Hispanic and openly LGBTQ woman to serve on the DC District Court.

This is an important reminder of a few things. First, that if American democracy does survive the next four years (and for the record, I think it probably will, albeit badly battered), it will be because the checks-and-balances system, premised especially on the role of the judiciary, continues to function. That is why Vance and Musk are now getting their little manbaby underpants in such a whiny twist about the courts: despite the barrage of bullshit that Trump has tried to pull off by executive order, it has all gotten instantly sued and the large part of it has been firmly enjoined in the legalese equivalent of "what the fuck are you doing you stupid fuck, this is TURBO illegal so knock it off." Yes, he's had a few minor victories here and there, but all the big, nasty, headline-getting stuff is being pummeled in the courts, and the courts, by and large, are not having it. That is important.

This is what I mean when I say that it's important that America has a solidly embedded tradition of civic democracy and genuine judicial authority to meaningfully constrain the executive. Trump is behaving like your average power-crazed tinpot dictator, issuing grandiose and destructive orders about nonsensical fascist bullshit. In the authoritarian countries (such as Russia, which he is yet again miserably and humiliatingly sucking up to) that he longs for the US to emulate, these would just be enacted, no more debate, because the judiciary is jammed chock-full of loyal toadies and corrupt functionaries who don't even pretend to act independently or objectively. That is not -- yet, and knock on wood it never will be -- the case in America. The federal bench contains judges appointed by a multitude of presidents of vastly different ideological temperaments and policy priorities, are reviewed and confirmed by a separately elected Senate, and have broad authority to hear, rule on, and restrict pretty much anything the president does, as long as it has been sued in a court of law. Which again, it has been. (Shoutout to my state Attorney General, who has sued Trump on everything pretty much even before I can get in contact with him about it.)

This is also why the Republicans have been so fixated on the judiciary and ran their Opus Dei/Federal Society/John Birch Society long-con to stuff the benches with far-right religious-nutjob hacks. This is why Mitch Fucking McConnell played so dirty with SCOTUS and why, once all this executive-order fluster calms down, the next thing the GOP will do is locate suitable replacements for Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito, who are in their seventies. They will be convinced or "convinced" to retire like Anthony Kennedy was in 2018, so their seats can be filled by much younger and even more extreme wingnuts and lock in conservative control of SCOTUS for another generation at least. This is after Trump was already allowed to fill three seats in his first term, so five members of a nine-person court will be personally appointed by the worst orange fascist to ever assume the office of the presidency. In 2016, Hillary Clinton warned, accurately, that control of SCOTUS was at stake and that it would have dangerous consequences if Trump won for that alone, and it became an online leftist article of faith to scoff at, mock, or totally ignore her. Hmm.

Of course, Vance et al weren't whining about the courts (and won't whine about them) whenever they march in lockstep with Republican priorities; it's just whenever they tell Orange God-Emperor Fuhrer Herr Trump to take a hike that they should be deemed un-American. Because this is happening with remarkable regularity right now, it's a great time to think about why this is and to continue to educate yourself on basic civics and the functions of the three branches of government. Because the US Constitution reserves the right for the president to choose all federal judges, the fact that a Biden-appointed judge is giving the Trumpsters hell for being idiots is an important fact. (It's also important to note that Trump's agenda is being pushed back by judges across the political spectrum; the first judge to issue a smackdown on the birthright citizenship issue was a Reagan appointee, if you can believe it.) As such, it's useful to think if you want a president who appoints people like Judge Reyes, or the MAGA clownshows such as Matthew Kaczynski and James Ho in Texas and Aileen Cannon in Florida, just to name a few. The right-wing nutjobs specifically go court-shopping in order to file cases before these judges, because they know they will get a favorable ruling and/or boost it on appeal to Trump judges in higher circuits and eventually to the Trump judges on the high court. Again: hmm.

The point(s) are: if American democracy gets through Trump, it will be because of the judiciary. The American judiciary is purposefully designed to meaningfully constrain the executive and at the moment, it is more or less holding up at that job, which is why the Republicans who love their own Trumpy judges are throwing their latest hypocritical shitfit. It matters who has the power to appoint judges, it is good to inform yourself about how these things work and why, and to point and laugh every time the fascists eat shit. So yes.

Literally sobbing. A judge, a US judge defended us. A judge brought up intersex people, uaing the term intersex, to *defend* us by not allowing our erasure. I'm having a lot of feelings right now

[caitified]

Hello! I absolutely love your family series so much. I love Caitlin’s family but can you please do Paige next?

Can it be like Paige introduces their baby to Geno and CD after Paige’s game (she’s in Dallas already) and idk just cute interactions and fans are eating it up. I hope you give this a shot. Thank you!

INTRODUCTION

PAIGE BUECKERS X FAMILY READER

notes: finally…after literally 100 requests i’m properly starting my paige family series. enjoy! (p.s i think i changed this a bit from the req, sry)

requests are open for this.

packing for any trip with a baby was always a process. no matter how much you tried to pack light, you always ended up with more than you needed.

“paige, we’re not moving to connecticut.” you glanced at her over your shoulder as you zipped up one of eva’s bags. “why does she have like four different pairs of sneakers in here?”

paige, sitting on the floor with eva in her lap, looked up sheepishly. “because she’s gotta look fresh?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile. “she’s not even walking yet.”

paige turned eva toward her, gently bouncing her. “tell mama you need options, baby.”

eva, six months old with bright blue eyes just like her mom’s, blew a spit bubble.

paige gasped dramatically. “see? she agrees.”

you laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed the last of your things. “fine. whatever. let’s just go before we miss the flight.”

—

the flight from dallas to connecticut wasn’t too bad.

eva, thankfully, was a pretty easy baby. after some snacks, a few rounds of peekaboo with paige, and a little bit of fighting sleep, she finally passed out in your arms.

paige, sitting next to you, smiled down at her before looking at you. “this is so weird,” she murmured.

you shifted slightly to look at her. “what is?”

her lips curled slightly. “going back to uconn. with you. with eva.”

your heart softened. “you’re excited, though, right?”

she nodded. “of course. but, like…” she exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “when i left, i never thought i’d be coming back like this, y’know? like, yeah, i knew i’d visit, but—” she looked down at eva again, voice dropping slightly. “now i have a family.”

you reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “it’s a full-circle moment.”

she nodded, exhaling. “yeah. it really is.”

—

the game itself was electric.

stepping into gampel pavilion again felt like stepping into a time capsule. the energy, the fans, the love—it was all still there.

but this time, instead of sitting courtside just as paige’s girlfriend, you had eva in your lap.

instead of fangirling over paige as the uconn superstar, you were watching her experience the game as a wnba player, an alumni, a legend in her own right.

and, of course, you were just trying to keep eva from throwing her pacifier onto the court.

“baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her head as she wiggled. “no throwing things.”

she cooed back at you, completely ignoring your request.

the fans ate her up.

anytime she clapped her little hands? cheers.

every time she got excited when the crowd got loud? adorable gasps.

by halftime, there were already tweets circulating about how paige’s baby was a uconn legend in the making.

you glanced at paige, who was beaming, filming eva on her phone.

“she’s gonna steal your thunder,” you teased.

paige smirked. “i’d let her.”

—

after the game, it was time for introductions.

geno and cd were already waiting in the tunnel, and the moment paige stepped forward with eva, their faces lit up.

“there’s the real superstar,” geno said, grinning as he looked at eva.

cd, beside him, immediately reached for her. “oh, let me see her!”

eva blinked at them, big blue eyes full of curiosity, before reaching her arms out for cd.

paige gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “i can’t believe this. my own daughter is betraying me.”

you laughed, nudging her. “relax, babe. she just knows good people.”

cd beamed, adjusting eva in her arms. “she’s beautiful, paige.” she glanced at you, smiling warmly. “you two did good.”

geno crossed his arms, tilting his head. “i dunno… she kinda looks too much like paige. are we sure she’s not already stubborn?”

paige gasped. “coach!”

you smirked, shrugging. “i mean, she is kind of a diva.”

geno nodded knowingly. “oh, she definitely got that from her mom.”

eva babbled happily in cd’s arms, clearly enjoying the attention.

paige sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to her forehead. “i can’t believe i came back here to get roasted.”

geno clapped a hand on her shoulder. “it’s what we do, kid.”

she rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile.

you squeezed her hand, grinning.

back home. but better.

i’m in now. keep the paige family requests coming

[luveline]

can we have bed time with dad!spencer, his baby boy and reader? 

Jude has brown eyes like Spencer. They have the same mouth and nose, the same thoughtful gaze. “That’s me,” Spencer says, Jude’s back to his chest, an arm between his legs to keep the little boy steady, “and this is you.” He points at Jude before smoothing a hand over his chest. “See us? That’s dad and Jude.” 

“Us,” Jude echoes. 

“Yeah, that’s us.”

Jude works his lips up into a smile. 

They smell like talc and lavender oil for the teeny tiny burns on Jude’s fingertips. He touched the oven door a few days ago while it was still on, Spencer gets hot remembering how hard Jude cried. It took more kisses than he bothered counting to make him stop screaming, an ice pop held to his small hand with a hand towel wrapped around it, squeezed to the bathroom door together —the first place Spencer could remember seeing a towel, Jude still sobbing. 

Spencer wants Jude to associate the bathroom with normal things. Peeing, showering, and not the little burns. If he can have happy associations, that’s better. Like dad and Jude’s night time routine, where Spencer brings him in here to brush his teeth and dab his face clean with a cloth. Some nights he needs to detangle his hair, or give his baby an impromptu shower, and some nights Jude is already asleep by the time Spencer remembers these things. 

“You’re really handsome,” Spencer says, pointing at the mirror, “see? You’re beautiful. See your smile?” 

Jude giggles excitedly. “I am beautiful,” he says proudly. 

“Exactly, you’re beautiful. Are you happy?” 

“Yeah,” he says, tipping back, his curls tickling Spencer’s nose. 

“Are you comfy?” Spencer whispers. 

“Think so.” 

“You think so,” Spencer says, beaming to himself as he kisses the top of Jude’s head. “You’re smart, Judey. Okay, how do we know we’re comfortable? Are your clothes tight? Do you want to take off your socks?”

“No.” 

“Okay, good. Does your mouth still taste all minty from the paste?” 

A flicker of disgust. “Yeah, it does.” 

“I’ll get you your sippy cup. You don’t seem tired, are we having a story?” he asks, voice turned to fatherly syrup as he shifts Jude around. He turns off the bathroom light and shuts the door behind them as they leave. 

“No, I wan’ be in the big bed.” 

“You do?” 

“With you.” 

“Okay, that’s okay, you can be in the big bed, are you sure you don’t want a story too? We can read about Edward the rabbit again.” 

Jude doesn’t bother answering. Spencer tends to read to him every night unless Jude has expressly shouted that he doesn’t want one, ‘cos that’s what his mom did for him, and Spencer loves his mom. 

Spencer fills Jude’s sippy cup with water (not so much a sippy cup as a bottle), and they retreat together to the big bed. In the middle of the bed, tired and curled up and waiting for them, is you. You perk up enough to drag yourself to one side of the bed as you kick down the sheets. 

Spencer isn’t used to this, but he should be. (This, because there isn’t really a word for it? For being friends and for not being intimate and for sleeping in the same bed together whenever you stay the night.) 

“Hi, baby,” you say, holding your arms out for Jude. 

Spencer gives him over. Jude suckles his drink, a picture of the baby he was when Spencer first got him as he turns into your chest. He’d need all the help he could get back then. You’d given more than he could ever ask for, and Jude knows you for that. 

You tip Jude against you and press yourself flat, your hand spread over his back. 

“Are you reading Edward Tulane tonight?” you ask quietly. 

“Just a bit. Couple of pages.” 

“Sounds good. You okay, mister?” you ask Jude. 

He nods around his drink. 

Spencer turns the light off and the lamp on, bathing you and Jude in a kind orange glow. The mattress sinks under his weight, dipping under yours, encouraging you closer together in the middle. You barely notice the outside influence, shuffling across the pillows to rest your face against Spencer’s arm. 

“Did you want milk?” Spencer asks him. “You can have some, it’s okay.” 

“Minty,” Jude whispers. 

“Minty,” you whisper in support. “Daddy takes good care of those teeth, huh?” 

Jude loves being spoken to sweetly. He closes his eyes as you pull him like a curve to you, squished and cuddling. You’re his mirror, eyes fluttering shut as you sniff his hair. Spencer loves your smile —he knows what you’re thinking, because he knows what you’re thinking. Jude still smells like baby. 

“Maybe this book is too sad,” Spencer says, thumbing to the last page he’d read from. 

“It’s not too sad, and we won’t be awake long.” 

“My Judey told me he’s not tired,” Spencer says. 

“My Judey needs his sleep,” you whisper.

Jude smiles and lets the rest of the cup fall away from him. “Can say you love me?” Jude whispers. 

“Who, baby?” Spencer asks. 

“You and you,” he says. 

You take a deep breath, whispering grandly, “I love you.” 

Spencer follows suit with a hand wrapped around Jude’s calf. “I love you, too. So much they don’t have a word for it yet. You know your middle name, you know what it means? Anwil, it means loved one, because I love you a lot. And I have forever and ever.” 

“And ever?” Jude asks. 

Spencer rubs his leg softly. “And ever. More than Y/N does.” 

You gasp in offense. “No way!”

Jude giggles but settles as you run your fingers through his hair. Spencer lays down and cracks the book over his chest, falling into his usual reading cadence, though he doesn’t bother much with special voices. Jude’s eyes are already shut and he’s jelly on your chest. 

He leans over mid story to brush hair from Jude’s ear. “I love you,” he says, to be sure.

Jude says something back that sounds like, “too.” 

[ivoraic]

JJK Men when they're OBSESSED with You.

featuring: Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Choso, Sukuna, Toji

a/n: just some fluffy (and not so fluffy) headcanons of the jjk men being smitten for you. enjoy ♡

Nanami Kento

Pretends he’s not obsessed, but it’s so obvious in the way he adjusts his entire schedule around you. (You’re the one thing in his life that doesn’t follow a schedule, but he can always make time for you.)

Knows things about you that you don't even remember telling him. Your childhood pet’s name? Your favorite snack from five years ago? The exact way your face twitches when you try not to laugh? He doesn’t just notice, he catalogs it in his mind.

Fixes problems before you even notice them. Something at work stressing you out? Magically resolved. Bills piling up? Suddenly paid. Annoying guy won’t stop texting you? He handled it. (Should you be worried...?)

“I wouldn’t call it obsession. I’d call it making sure you’re taken care of.”

Geto Suguru

The smoothest obsession. He’s calm, calculated, and charming, but know that everything he does is meant to draw you deeper into his orbit.

Lowkey stalks you… but in a way that seems completely normal. Oh, you’re going to that cafe? He just happens to be there too. Oh, you’re walking home? Well, what a coincidence, so is he.

Has a way of making you feel like you’re the only person who understands him, like you’re his one exception in a world full of disappointments. Always treats you like you’re a rare, delicate thing.

“I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed. But I would say that I’ve considered every possible way to make sure you never leave my side.”

Choso

The softest obsession. Absolutely no self-awareness about how deep it runs. He just thinks it’s normal to want to be with you all the time, to always position himself within arm’s reach, to instinctively follow you whenever you leave a room.

Textbook definition of loyalty. If someone so much as raises their voice at you, he’s already on his feet, ready to throw hands.

Physically incapable of ignoring you. You call his name? He’s already looking at you. You text him? His reply is lighting up your phone screen within seconds.

“I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t I want to be around you all the time?”

Sukuna

Denial, denial, denial. “I don’t give a shit about you.” Meanwhile, he’s threatening to level entire cities if someone so much as looks at you wrong.

Unhinged protectiveness. If you get hurt, he takes it personally. Like, seething about it for days, going on a rampage, killing everyone in his way until he finds who it was that hurt you.  (Nobody gets to touch what belongs to the King of Curses and expect to keep their lives.)

Leaves marks on your body - bite marks, handprints, anything to make sure you know you belong to him.

“Be grateful. You’re the only human I’ve ever tolerated this much.”

Toji Fushiguro

Possessive as hell, but in a lazy, confident way, because he knows you’re his. No need to fight for you when he’s already won.

“Where do you think you’re going?” said with a smirk, as he hooks an arm around your waist and yanks you onto his lap.

Teases you constantly but never lets anyone else get away with it. Someone makes a joke at your expense? He’s already cracking his knuckles.

Doesn’t say he’s obsessed, but you can tell from the way his touch is always on you. A hand at the back of your neck, his fingers brushing against yours, his lips grazing your ear when he talks.

“You’re mine. End of story.”

Gojo Satoru

He memorizes everything about you, down to the way your voice sounds when you’re tired, the exact scent of your shampoo, and the way your heartbeat changes when you’re nervous.

Throws his money around just to keep you comfortable. "It’s not spoiling you, it’s basic human decency," he insists as he books an entire first-class cabin just so you can nap peacefully.

Acts ridiculously nonchalant, but the moment someone else shows interest in you, he gets so petty it’s unbelievable. (Flashing his six eyes while standing behind you just to glare at the person, making you wonder why every stranger you talk to always hastily ends the conversation and runs away.)

“Obsession? That’s a strong word. I just happen to think about you every waking moment of my day.”

(Psst by the way, if you liked this there are more gojo fics and drabbles waiting for you on my blog! 🤭)

[thethirdromana]

My friend has this! The skillset, not the skillet. He's a risk and compliance manager at a financial services company. (I think his exact job is a bit more specialised than this, but I don't want to dox the guy).

He used to quit his job every few months, go travelling, put on LinkedIn that he was job-hunting a week or so before he got back, and have job offers waiting for him when his flight landed. His managers would be like, "we would really prefer you not to quit after six months this time" and he would be like, "can't guarantee it, what are you going to do about it?" And the answer would be "nothing".

Now he has kids he doesn't do that any more, but he does treat things like "showing up to meetings" and "meeting internal deadlines" as broadly optional. (Yes, he sounds like an absolute nightmare to work with. Thankfully, I am his friend, not his employer).

The big caveat is that from his descriptions it is an absolutely horrendous job and I would not want to do it for all the job security in the world.

I wish there was a magic skillet I could pick up that would make me literally impossible to fire from a job, no matter how weird or disagreeable people decided I am, where I could still work only part time & ideally with lots of breaks. Like sorry Ms Karen McWasp, I am a load bearing unit and the task will be done when it's done and there's jack shit you can do.

[shinebyeoli]

STICKY SITUATIONS

✶PAIRING: Spiderman! Yunho x Fem! reader

✶WARNINGS: superhero au, spiderman! yunho, Best friends! wooyoung and san, fighting (spiderman), smut, pet names, cursing, wooyoungs a fangirl over spiderman.

✶A/N: I want to do Ateez fanfiction as them as superheroes, and so, obviously Yunho is Spiderman.

✶WORD-COUNT: 5.8k

The city always felt different at night. The once-bustling streets had quieted down, save for the occasional honking of taxis and the distant chatter of late-night wanderers. The streetlights buzzed softly, casting a warm glow over the pavement as you, Wooyoung, and San walked along the sidewalk, the three of you lost in conversation.

"You’re crazy if you think that’s the best Marvel movie," Wooyoung argued, waving his hands in the air dramatically.

San scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I’m just saying, the storyline actually made sense. Unlike the mess of a plot twist your favorite one had."

You laughed, watching the two bicker for what felt like the hundredth time that night. It was always like this—Wooyoung and San found the most random things to argue about, and you somehow always got stuck in the middle.

"Alright, alright, let’s call a truce before one of your heads explodes," you teased, nudging Wooyoung’s shoulder.

He huffed but grinned. "Fine. But only because I’m too hungry to keep fighting."

"Didn’t you just eat?" San raised a brow.

Wooyoung clutched his stomach dramatically. "That was, like, two hours ago! Do you know how long that is in Wooyoung time?" He says pointing to himself with two fingers.

You rolled your eyes as San shook his head with a laugh. The three of you turned the corner onto a dimly lit street, the atmosphere shifting slightly. The sidewalks weren’t as lively here, and the sound of distant sirens echoed faintly through the air.

Something about the silence felt off.

You felt it first—a strange uneasiness creeping up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your gut twisted, an instinct screaming at you that something wasn’t right.

"Hey, does this street feel…weird to you?" you asked, slowing your steps.

San glanced around, his playful demeanor dimming as he too seemed to sense the shift in the air. Wooyoung, usually oblivious to danger, actually frowned.

"Yeah… we should probably—"

Before he could finish, a loud crash shattered the silence.

A black van skidded to a stop in the middle of the road, its tires screeching against the pavement. The doors were thrown open, and within seconds, several masked figures jumped out, their movements quick and calculated. They were armed with guns.

Your breath caught in your throat.

"That’s bad," Wooyoung whispered, stepping back.

"Very bad," You muttered.

"Fuck," San cursed, grabbing your wrist instinctively. "Run."

But it was too late.

One of the men barked an order, and suddenly, the air was filled with chaos. A shot rang out—probably not meant to hit, just to scare—and screams erupted from the few people still lingering in the area. The three of you turned on your heels, sprinting in the opposite direction, but they were fast. Too fast.

The night erupted into chaos behind you—yelling, footsteps pounding against pavement. A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence. Your breath caught, your pulse hammering against your ribs as you sprinted down the street, barely processing what was happening.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Wooyoung cursed as the three of you ducked into an alleyway, your backs hitting the cold brick wall. But before Wooyoung could make it, a strong hand grabbed him by the arm, yanking him backward. He let out a sharp yelp as he struggled, twisting and kicking in their grasp.

"Let him go!" you shouted, instinctively lunging forward.

Another man grabbed you before you could reach him, his grip bruising as he pulled you back. You thrashed against him, panic surging through your veins, but he was stronger. San tried to fight off one of the others, managing to land a solid punch before getting overpowered.

This wasn’t just a mugging. They were organized. They were looking for something—or someone. And you were trapped.

Then, just as your captor tightened his grip, something—or rather, someone—dropped from the sky.

A red and blue blur crashed onto the scene, landing with a force that cracked the pavement slightly.

Spider-Man.

For a moment, everything stilled.

"Hey, fellas. Now, I know we’re all having fun here," the masked hero quipped, standing to his full height. "But I have a strict policy against terrifying innocent civilians. Superbad look, guys."

The men froze in place.

And then all hell broke loose.

The first guy barely had time to react before Spider-Man shot a web, yanking the gun straight out of his hands. Another moved to attack, but the hero was faster—ducking, twisting, landing a solid kick that sent the man sprawling.

"Tsk, tsk." Spider-Man shook his head. "Guns? Really? That’s just lazy."

The scene erupted into chaos.

Spider-Man moved fast—faster than you could keep up with. He flipped and twisted through the air, his webbing shooting out in rapid succession as he took down the masked men one by one. Wooyoung managed to break free in the commotion, stumbling toward you to break you free. You both ran to San as the three of you watched the fight unfold in stunned silence.

Wooyoung let out a breathless laugh. "Holy shit, that’s so cool."

San nudged him. "Now is not the time to fangirl."

It didn’t take long. Within minutes, the assailants were either webbed to the walls or unconscious on the pavement.

Spider-Man landed a few feet in front of you, tilting his head. "Everyone okay?"

Wooyoung, still breathless, gave a thumbs-up. "That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen."

San nodded, still shaken but managing to find his voice. "Yeah… yeah, we’re good."

The casualness of his tone made you blink. He had just taken down multiple armed men in a matter of minutes, and he was talking like he had just finished a workout.

San let out a low whistle, still catching his breath. "That was… a lot."

Wooyoung, on the other hand, was practically buzzing with excitement. "Dude. You. Are. Freaking. Amazing." He gestured wildly at the unconscious men. "Do you even realize how freaking cool that was? I mean, you—" He mimicked web-shooting with his hands, making whooshing noises. "—and then you did that insane flip, and—"

Spider-Man chuckled and patted Wooyoungs shoulder. "Glad you enjoyed the show."

Spider-Man turned to you then, and for a moment, you swore he lingered. Even through the mask, you could feel the weight of his gaze.

"You good?" His voice was softer now.

You swallowed, still feeling the remnants of adrenaline in your bloodstream. You couldn't help but feel a rush of heat go up to your cheeks. "Yeah. Thanks to you."

There was a small pause. Something about the way he was looking at you—studying you—sent a strange warmth through your chest. But then, as quickly as the moment had come, he stepped back.

"Alright then," he said, clapping his hands together. "My job here is done." And just like that, he shot a web to the nearest building, leaped up, and vanished into the night.

Leaving you standing there, heart still pounding. For a second, none of you spoke.

Then Wooyoung let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was—holy hell."

San ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Holy shit sums it up pretty well." He let out a deep sigh.

You exhaled slowly, trying to ground yourself. "Let’s just go home."

They both nodded, and together, the three of you started walking.

At the next intersection, Wooyoung and San turned toward their own apartments, each of them giving you one last look.

"You sure you’re okay?" San asked. "I mean, that was a lot to process..."

"I'm fine San." You managed a small smile. "Yeah. I’ll see you guys tomorrow."

Wooyoung gave you a playful salute before they disappeared down their street.

And then it was just you.

The city was quieter now. The excitement of the night had dulled into a hum of distant traffic, the occasional flicker of headlights passing by.

You pulled your hoodie tighter around you as you walked, your steps steady but your mind still racing.

Everything felt surreal, like a fantasy dream. One second, you were hanging out with your best friends. The next, you were running for your life. And then Spider-Man swooped in, saved you like it was nothing, and disappeared into the dead of night.

Your fingers twitched at your sides and you could still feel the ghost of his touch—the way he had held you when he pulled you away from danger.

Shaking the thought away, you turned down a quieter street. It wasn’t too far to your apartment now. Just a few more minutes. But then there was a noise...

Tick. Tick. Tick.

You stopped. You cocked an eyebrow. The sound was faint, almost drowned out by the night and the noise of wind. It was coming from the building beside you.

Slowly, you turned your head. The alley next to the building was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the pavement. But the sound—that sound—was definitely coming from there.

A slow, rhythmic ticking. Like a countdown.

Your stomach twisted. Your instincts screamed at you to move. But you couldn't. it was like your legs were paralyzed and—

BOOM.

The explosion shattered the quiet night. The force of the blast hit like a shockwave, sending a fiery burst of heat through the air. The impact knocked you off your feet, throwing you backward before you even had time to scream.

For a split second, you were weightless—falling, the world tilting...

But before you hit the ground, something caught you.

No, not something... Someone

A strong arm wrapped around your waist just as a web shot out, pulling you up seconds before debris rained down onto the street below. Your breath hitched.

Your mind barely had time to process what had just happened before you were soaring—high above the city, away from the destruction.

The wind roared past your ears as you clung to the one person who had just saved your life again.

And then, just as quickly as you were pulled away, you landed on a rooftop. You gasped, heart hammering as your feet touched solid ground.

Spider-Man was still holding you, his grip strong, steady—protective.

For a long second, neither of you spoke. The distant wail of sirens echoed below. The glow of the city lights cast long shadows across the rooftop.

His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. "You okay?" he asked, voice quieter this time.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. "I—yeah. I think so."

His hold on you didn’t loosen immediately. It was as if he was making sure—like if he let go too soon, you might slip away again.

The realization made something in your chest tighten.

Slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you. Even through the mask, you could feel the intensity of his gaze.

"You shouldn’t have been there," he murmured, almost to himself.

"I wasn’t exactly planning on walking past a random explosion," you said, attempting to lighten the mood. Your voice came out more breathless than you intended.

His jaw tensed slightly. "You could’ve died."

You weren’t sure why, but the way he said it—low, edged with something almost like frustration—made your breath catch.

His fingers twitched against your waist before he finally let go. The absence of his touch left the night air colder.

"Thank you though," You breathe out as you look at him. You wondered what he looked like under the mask. "For saving me... again."

"You're welcome."

He then exhaled sharply as if debating something. Then, reaching into his suit, he pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.

Wordlessly, he took your hand and pressed it into your palm.

Your fingers curled around it automatically. "What is this?"

His voice was quieter now. More certain. "A lifeline," he said. "Just in case."

Your pulse jumped. You looked up at him, searching for something—anything—in his masked expression. But before you could say anything, he stepped back.

"Stay safe, Y/N..."

He winked at you and then, in one swift motion, he shot a web and disappeared into the night. leaving you standing there, gripping the note, your heart still racing.

Far below, the city continued on, unaware of what had just happened. But you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

Your phone buzzed violently in your pocket, snapping you out of your daze.

Still gripping the note, you fumbled to pull it out, your hands shaking slightly as you answered.

“Y/N!” Wooyoung’s voice practically exploded through the speaker causing you to flinch a little. “Did you hear that?!”

San’s voice followed, equally frantic. “Forget hearing it, we felt it! That explosion was huge—where are you? Are you okay?”

You swallowed, your heartbeat still uneven, and a tiny bit of sweat dripped down your forehead. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay.” You glanced down at the note in your hand, the small folded paper feeling heavier than it should. “Spider-Man—he… he saved me.”

A pause. Then Wooyoung, in complete disbelief: “Wait- again?”

San exhaled sharply. “Holy shit, you have got to stop getting into life-threatening situations.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers tightening around the note. “Yeah, well… at least this time, he gave me something.”

Wooyoung gasped dramatically. “Oh my god, a gift?, a love letter?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Not exactly.”

Carefully, you unfolded the paper, the streetlights casting just enough of a glow for you to see what was scribbled inside.

A phone number.

Your breath hitched slightly. “He gave me his number,” you murmured, more to yourself than to them.

Dead silence.

“WHAT?!” Wooyoung shrieked so loudly you had to pull the phone away from your ear.

San sounded equally stunned. “Hold on, he just gave you his number? Like—"here call me sometime." type of shit?”

You swallowed, staring down at the digits. “I… guess?”

Wooyoung was losing his mind. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THIS IS LIKE A ROMANCE MOVIE BUT IN REAL LIFE. YOU HAVE TO CALL HIM.”

San groaned. “Give her a second to process, dude.”

Your fingers traced over the numbers absently, your heart still hammering in your chest. “Yeah,” you muttered, barely registering their bickering. “I think I will.”

Because something told you this wasn’t just a random exchange. This was the beginning of something else. Something big.

And for the first time tonight, despite everything, a small smile found its way to your lips.

Three months had passed since that night. Since the explosion. Since the moment Spider-Man slipped you his number and changed your life forever.

Because Spider-Man was Jeong Yunho.

And now, he was your boyfriend.

The warm glow of your bedside lamp flickered gently against the walls, the soft scent of candles filling the dimly lit room. You sat cross-legged on your bed, your laptop balanced on your thighs as you mindlessly scrolled through your work. The night was calm, the city humming faintly in the background through your slightly open window.

Then there was a familiar thud. You barely had time to glance up before the window swung open, and a tall, breathless figure climbed inside.

Yunho.

His suit was slightly dirty, the red and blue fabric stretched taut over his muscular, tall frame. His chest rose and fell heavily as he pulled his mask off, tousled dark hair falling over his forehead. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair before looking at you., panting a bit.

You smirked, resting your chin in your palm. "Rough day, Yun?"

He let out a dry chuckle, tossing his mask onto your desk as he padded toward you. "You have no idea."

You shut your laptop, scooting over as he all but collapsed onto your bed with a dramatic sigh. He stretched out beside you, one arm draped lazily over his face. His eyes closed briefly as he relaxed beside you. The air between you both felt thick with something more than just the comfort of being together. He had been gone all night, and it had become routine for him to come to you like this—exhausted, a little broken, and yet still somehow whole in your presence.

You watched him, his chest rising and falling in time with his breathing. There was something about him tonight—something that felt different.

He turned his head to face you, his brown eyes meeting yours in the dim light. "I missed you," he muttered, his voice quiet but carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time he had said that, but tonight, it felt heavier, more real.

"I missed you too," you replied softly, your breath catching as you leaned closer, just barely brushing his arm with your fingers.

He smiled then, a slow, almost lazy smile that had a way of making your heartbeat quicken. Without a word, he shifted, moving until he was hovering above you, his body pressing down gently against yours. The familiar warmth of his chest, the scent of him—like cologne and sweat, and the faint hint of something stronger—surrounded you.

His hands, large and sure, braced on either side of your head as he looked down at you. His gaze softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability passing through his eyes before it was replaced with something darker—something that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Is it okay if I..." he trailed off, his voice barely a whisper, his face inches from yours.

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, Yunho. It’s okay."

And with that, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more desperate, more urgent. His hands slid to your sides, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before pulling you closer as if he couldn't get enough of the feeling of you beneath him.

The kiss deepened, his body moving against yours in slow, deliberate motions that made your heart race, and your senses heighten. Every part of you burned for him, and he could feel it in the way your body responded to his gentle touch.

His lips left yours, trailing hot kisses along your jaw, down your neck, the soft exhale of his breath making your skin tingle. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging him back to meet your lips again, pulling him closer as if you never wanted to let him go.

Yunho groaned against your lips, his hands sliding beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your stomach. The touch sent a shockwave of heat through you, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped your mouth.

"You drive me crazy, y'know that?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he nipped lightly at your earlobe.

You couldn’t help the small, breathless giggle that escaped your lips. "I could say the same about you."

His hands moved lower, tracing the curve of your body, and for a brief moment, there was a sense of hesitation in his movements. But only for a moment.

"I want you," he whispered, his voice raw with desire.

Your heart skipped again. You could feel the tension building between you both, the anticipation crackling in the air as you gazed up at him.

“I want you too,” you breathed, your hands sliding up to pull him closer, your body arching instinctively toward his.

The world outside, the city, the noise, the chaos, faded away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other. The kiss deepened once again, more desperate this time as if you were both starved for each other, needing this moment more than anything else.

The dark-haired boy's hands were everywhere now—on your back, your waist, your legs. His fingers finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it off, desperate to feel more of you. you groaned as he did, your body shuddering slightly at the contact, and for a moment, you lost yourself in the sensation of being this close to him, of having him like this.

But before things could escalate further, Yunho pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control of his breath.

“I don’t want to rush this,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with a tenderness that only seemed to make everything more intense.

You nodded, your hands still tangled in his hair as you gazed up at him. “We don’t have to. I just want to be with you, Yunho.”

He smiled, his lips pressing against yours one last time—slow, gentle, a kiss that spoke volumes. And in that moment, it wasn’t just about the passion. It was about connection. About how, no matter what, you both had each other.

Yunho’s body pressed against yours, the weight of him both thrilling and intoxicating as he kissed you deeply, his lips claiming yours with an urgency that made your heart race. You felt the cool air of the room against your bare skin, every inch of you alive with anticipation. His suit was still intact, but the tension between you was palpable, and you could sense his desperation.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you pushed your hands down to the fabric of his suit, feeling the smooth material beneath your fingertips. “Yun,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing. “What if we take this off?”

He paused, his breath hitching as he looked down at you, a mix of desire and amusement in his gaze. “And ruin it? I just got this suit,” he replied, trying to maintain his composure, but you could see the hunger in his eyes.

“Who cares?” you challenged, your fingers gripping the fabric tighter. “You’ve got more important things to focus on right now.”

With a swift motion, you tugged at the fabric, your determination making you bold. The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the room, and you felt a thrill rush through you as you ripped a hole in the crotch area of his suit, revealing the toned skin beneath. His already hard cock sprung out and hit his covered stomach.

Yunho’s eyes widened in shock, and then he blushed, the tension breaking momentarily. “This is the second suit I’ve been through with you” he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

You couldn’t help but laugh too, the sound ringing through the air as you looked up at him, your heart racing. “What can I say? You make it too easy to get carried away,” you teased, your fingers brushing against his exposed skin, feeling the heat radiate from him.

He shook his head, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned down, capturing your lips again in a heated kiss. “You’re insatiable,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed his body harder against yours.

“I learned from the best,” you shot back, the playful banter only heightening the tension between you. The sound of fabric tearing had only fueled the fire inside you, and you could feel the need building again, stronger than before. You ran your finger over his leaking tip.

Yunho pulled back slightly, glancing down at his ruined suit with mock seriousness. “I- I might need to start keeping a spare suit at y- your place,” he breathed, his tone teasing but laced with genuine desire as he panted a bit.

“Or maybe just skip the suit altogether next time,” you suggested with a smirk, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again, the urgency returning as he pressed his body against yours, the remnants of his suit only adding to the thrill of the moment. “If you keep this up, I might not be able to hold back,” he warned, his voice low and filled with promise.

“Then don’t hold back,” you challenged, your heart racing as you met his gaze, your body aching for him. “Such a pretty cock, hm?” You coo.

With a growl, Yunho wasted no time. He closed the distance again, kissing you fiercely, the remnants of his suit only serving to heighten the tension between you. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch as you surrendered to the moment, the laughter and playful teasing giving way to something deeper, more primal.

In that heated exchange, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—lost in each other, tangled up in passion, and utterly consumed by desire.

As Yunho kissed you deeply, the rip in his suit widened, and you could feel his hard member rub against you, throbbing. The thrill of the moment sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, the laughter still lingering from your earlier banter.

But then, as if the tension of the night had reached its peak, you felt the unmistakable sensation of his arousal pushing through the tear in his suit. Your breath hitched at the intensity of it, and Yunho’s gaze darkened as he pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Guess I’m not the only one who’s a little too eager,” he murmured, his voice low and husky with need.

With a swift motion, you pushed him back just enough to sit up, and before he could react, you tore at your own bottoms, fabric ripping away with a satisfying sound. The sudden exposure made your pulse race, and you reveled in the way his eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Now we’re both ready,” you teased, your voice sultry as you leaned closer, your body radiating heat as you pressed against him, skin to skin.

Yunho growled low in his throat, the sound sending a thrill through you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, his fingers curling around your waist as he pulled you closer, his body flush against yours.

He quickly shifted, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned you, and you could feel the undeniable heat of his desire against you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he confessed, his voice thick with lust as he pressed his body against yours, the remnants of his torn suit hanging around his hips.

“Then don’t hold back,” you urged, your breath hitching as you felt the weight of him pressing down, the heat radiating between you both. You needed him, needed to feel him fill the void that had been growing inside you.

With a fierce determination, Yunho pushed forward, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. The taste of him, the urgency of his movements, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you as he nestled deeper between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation, the heat building as he ground against you, seeking more, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy as he moved to kiss down your neck, trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, down to your chest, igniting every nerve ending in your body.

“Yunho, please...” you begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him closer, craving more of him.

With a growl, he positioned himself, the moment stretching between you as anticipation crackled in the air. “Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of lust and tenderness.

You nodded, your heart racing as you whispered, “More than ready.”

In one swift motion, he thrust forward, the heat of him enveloping you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, and you gasped, the pleasure coursing through you as his long and veiny cock filled you, stretching you in the best way. You could feel him deep inside, and everything else faded away—the world outside, the chaos of life—until it was just the two of you, lost in each other.

“Yunho,” you moaned, your body arching instinctively against him, urging him on as he began to move, his rhythm steady and intoxicating. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, and you felt yourself spiraling, surrendering completely to the sensations. He kept hitting your G-spot causing you to whine and moan.

He matched your movements, his breath ragged as he lost himself in you. “Y- you feel so good, tiny” he groaned, his voice filled with raw desire, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, wanting every inch of you.

The room was filled with the sound of skin hitting against skin, the heat between you rising with each passing moment. You could feel the tension coiling tighter, the world around you fading into nothing as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your bodies.

“Yu- Yunho, don’t stop-” you gasped, each thrust igniting a fire within you, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel the heat building, the pleasure reaching a peak as you clung to him, urging him on, wanting nothing more than to feel him completely.

Yunho filled you completely, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming in the best possible way. He held you close, his breath hot against your neck as he began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his every thrust, the rhythm building between you as passion grew.

With each movement, his thrust grew more sloppy and hard, whines and moans filled the room. The taller boy grunted as he gripped onto your hips. You could feel the heat pooling deep within you, the tension building with every thrust, every stroke. Yunho’s eyes were locked onto yours, filled with a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your heart race even more.

“Yunho,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets as you surrendered completely to the pleasure he was giving you. “I- f— fuck.”

He responded with a low growl, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, the primal rhythm echoing in the room as you lost yourself in the intensity of your connection. You could feel every inch of him, every powerful thrust igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

Suddenly, with a wicked glint in his eyes, Yunho shifted his grip and pulled your hands above your head. “Let’s make this even more interesting,” he murmured, shooting out a silky web from his his hands—a playful reference to his alter ego. In one swift motion, he tied your wrists together, securing them above your head.

A thrill raced through you at the sensation of being restrained, the vulnerability heightening the intensity of everything you were feeling. “Yunho, what are you—” you started, but he silenced you with a fierce kiss, his body pressing down against yours, pinning you to the bed.

“Just trust me,” he said, his voice low and teasing. The possessiveness in his tone sent another wave of heat through you, and you nodded, surrendering completely to him.

With your hands tied, Yunho resumed his movements, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more demanding. The sensation of being held down while he drove into you was exhilarating, and you could feel the tension building higher and higher with each powerful stroke.

“Yunho, yes,” you cried out, the pleasure overwhelming as he hit all the right spots, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you completely. You could feel every single inch of him, the way he filled you, stretched you, driving you closer to the edge.

“You like that?” he asked, a smirk on his lips, his eyes dark with desire as he watched your reactions. “I want to hear you.”

“More,” you begged, your voice breathless as you writhed beneath him, the pleasure coiling tighter within you. He was relentless, and the way he took control was intoxicating. Each thrust was a reminder of his power, his desire to consume you completely.

“More, huh?” he teased, his thrusts deepening as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans. The connection between you sparked with electricity, and you felt yourself spiraling, losing track of everything except the way he was making you feel.

Yunho picked up the pace, his movements becoming more frantic, His length hit the spot, making you whimper from it. the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. You could feel the pressure building, a delicious tension pulling tight within you, and you knew you were getting close.

“Yunho, I’m—” you gasped, your body arching against him, desperately seeking that release.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. “I’ve got you.”

With a final thrust, the world exploded around you. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out his name, the sound echoing in the air as you let go completely, surrendering to the intense ecstasy that washed over you.

You open your mouth as you came on him. squeezing his member, making his grip on your waist tighten.

Yunho followed closely behind, his thrusts becoming erratic as he reached his own peak, the sound of his groan filling your ears as he buried himself deep inside you, riding the waves of pleasure together. He painted your walls with his cum, groaning as he does so.

As the intensity faded and you both collapsed against each other, he quickly untied your hands, pulling you close. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you could feel his heart racing against yours.

“Now that was something,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

You laughed softly, the exhilaration of the moment still lingering in the air. “You definitely know how to make an impression.”

s the waves of pleasure subsided, you found yourselves tangled together, hearts racing, breaths mingling in the aftermath of sex. Yunho collapsed beside you, pulling you close, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the remnants of your shared intensity lingering in the air.

“Guess I’ll have to invest in some sturdier suits,” he chuckled, glancing down at the remnants of his attire, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing in the dim light of the room.

“Or just come to me without one next time,” you suggested a playful grin on your face.

“Now that sounds like a plan,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a protective cocoon.

And in that moment, as you lay together, you knew that this was just the beginning of many more adventures to come.

Yunho chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait until next time. I have plenty more tricks up my sleeve.”

With a playful smile, you snuggled closer to him, knowing this was just the beginning of many more unforgettable moments together.

[darinawrites]

๑—Telling squid game characters you want a cat—๑

Characters: Se-mi, Hyun ju, In ho, Dae ho, Thanos, Salesman

A/n: This was requested a while ago, but Tumblr is weird and I can't find it </3 hope you still read this. Also, the damm tags don't work 😭 can someone tell me what's wrong and why they won't work constantly?

┆彡Se-mi

*ੈI see Se-mi as the biggest cat person ever. There's something about those small creatures that have a soft spot in her heart. So, of course she'd be overjoyed if you suggested it before her.

*ੈHer favorite would be a black cat, they're the cutest and cuddliest for her.

*ੈOverfeeds the cat once you buy it. She can't help it, one small pleading of a meow and the snacks are already out. You'd have to remind her and she'd understand to be more resistant in the future.

*ੈBuys only the essentials, but the most high quality ones you could ever think of. She doesn't believe a cat needs so much, but she does think they need good material.

*ੈBuys small white bows to clip it on the kitty, the contrast so vast. It reminds her a bit of the style she has, like a small reflection of herself.

*ੈThe cat will be sleeping on the bed, no buts.

*ੈShe will treat the cat as like a child she birthed herself. She isn't amazed of the idea of getting a child, so this would be a great substitute! Her kitty is the one and only child she needs.

┆彡Salesman (can we get this guy a name)

*ੈWouldn't be fond of the idea. He doesn't like animals generally, a pet wouldn't be ideal for him and it would take a lot of convincing for him to even let you speak out your idea.

*ੈAgainst all odds, you did somehow manage to get the small kitty. But be prepared for even more work. Do not expect him to do anything, it was your own idea.

*ੈBuying food and essentials. Vet trips and feeding. It's all up to you, you should've known what you were signing up for.

*ੈHe does not even acknowledge the kitties existence. Everytime it purrs as it rubs against his leg once he's back from work he doesn't react, not in the slightest. Despite your pleads, he simply answers that the pest is lucky enough to even live with you.

*ੈMaybe one day his cold facade would fade away (it won't).

┆彡In-ho

*ੈWouldn't oppose the idea nor be fond of it. He's indifferent and couldn't care much about a pet, especially since he's filled with work most of the time. He'll get you one if you want to, but don't think he wanted it.

*ੈRarely does anything with the cat. He'll do basics like feeding it, but doesn't go beyond that. He doesn't really see much in the ball of fluffy cotton.

*ੈGives you as much money as you want for the cat, while he doesn't care much for it he knows they take a lot of work to properly take care of. Doesn't know a thing about anything you're buying, so he just hopes its only essentials that are draining his wallet (they're not).

*ੈOver the time, he will grow fond of the cat. Against his own wishes, he starts to like the purrs, the fur, the accidental bites. He won't ever admit the care he grew to have, it's a just a pet, no?

*ੈBut his indifferent facade can't fool you. You saw the way he spends more time with the little kitty, letting it in his office, letting it crawl on his hand to pick it up. You won't say anything, but a small smile would come up at the thought of your cold husband warming up to the pet.

*ੈPicks the cat up in his lap any chance he gets. It's so relaxing to feel the vibrations of purrs against him as he softly strokes the fur while doing his work.

┆彡Hyun ju

*ੈNever thought of the idea. She was content with the both of you, the suggestion of something else never popping up in her mind.

*ੈYou have to give her a little time to think about it. This is a big responsibility, something she's a bit nervous about to mess up.

*ੈ"Are you sure this is what you really want, and it will make you happy?" once you nod in response and she reveals that she'll get you a cat, you're ecstatic.

*ੈAfter hours of deciding, you finally chose a small white kitty! She wouldn't care much about the type of cat she'd get, so she gave the authority to you to pick one out.

*ੈSpent hours of research to know what its trying to say. If she should pet it or it's uncomfortable, if the kitty's hungry or not. You just know she's trying her best. <3

*ੈLazy mornings with her and a fluffy cat on your thigh while her big arms cuddle you is all you've ever needed.

*ੈThe difference between the small kitten in her huge palms always makes you melt.

┆彡Thanos

*ੈTruth be told you were the one hesitant to tell him, despite the immense joy you'd get from a kitten. You weren't sure he would be responsible enough, but at the end you gave in to the desires and told him.

*ੈOf course he'd say yes, he loves any type of animals. Even if more exotic ones would be his preferred ones. As long as you're happy and have a pet, he'll put it aside.

*ੈBuying the most energetic orange cat you've ever seen. He needs an energetic companion, one that matches him.

*ੈAnd you just know he will give it the stupidest and absurd name you've heard. There's no stoping him, sadly. But you'll somehow grow used to it.

*ੈBrings the cat everywhere, especially in his recording studio. They're inseparable, seen always together. That's his buddy now, even adding some of his meows to his songs once he has the chance to.

*ੈVictim of overfeeding #2. Everytime it comes up to him he simply gives him a snack. What else is he supposed to do?

*ੈYou also have to tell him to be careful when he cuddles kitty, that man is practically squeezing every bit of life out of the poor thing.

┆彡Dae ho

*ੈDae ho is definitely a dog person. Despite his love for all animals, he'd still prefer a dog over a cat. But he wouldn't oppose it, not at all. Especially once he sees how happy it makes you.

*ੈYou'd play a little game and whoever wins decides. And to your surprise, you actually won against him! (he let you win to see you smile)

*ੈHe'll be honest, he wasn't exactly fond of the little brown kitten you brought back. But seeing your smile and the glint in your eyes made him appreciate the cat a little more.

*ੈAnd, don't worry. It won't take long before he's swooning over the sight of the kitty. The little disappointment of the loss of a dog not lasting long as he's now in the trance of the big goopy black eyes the kitten has.

*ੈAlways cuddling with it. He can't help it, the fur so fluffy and the size smaller than his hands, it's too much for his heart to take.

*ੈEqually shares the chores of the cat. He isn't one to do nothing nor everything, you're both equal and both love the kitty.

*ੈChooses the cutest and most meaningful name he can muster. Something that will always remind himself of you when he calls out for the cat <3