#i had too much time to notice all this while driving

[cherrygirlfriend]

(not) lost and found pairing: reader x sistersfiancé!rafe synopsis: when reader has to return her sister's shoes, she sees her fiancé again. this time, in a different state than before. warnings: hurt and comfort, reader stitches up rafe wc: 1.5k

people have been wanting me to write more for them and i've been meaning to i swear!! just haven't gotten around to it lmao but more interesting stuff for this pairing is coming

"jenny, no." you sighed exasperatedly into your phone, "i already told you, no. i'm doing homework."

"but it's technically your fault?"

"how is it my fault that your drunk ass left your damn shoes in my car?" you scoff, and if it wasn't so typical of jenny, you wouldn't be able to believe the nerve she'd have to even say it was your fault that she was too drunk that she couldn't even remember to take her shoes.

"just take them to my place, alright! i'm on a trip right now and i don't need your shit."

"i'm not a damn lost and fo-"

before you could finish your sentence, your sister had hung up on you, and although you tried to call her again, she wouldn't answer. the bitch was ignoring you, as usual.

so, that was how you ended up driving to the house your sister shared with her fiancé while rain was pouring down the sky, your windshield wipers working overtime to make sure you'd get there without slipping off the road.

when you finally parked in front of the house you'd been at only a few days prior, you leaned the back of your head against the headrest, gazing at the lit-up windows of the home. you wanted so badly to not be jealous of the life she had, to not give her the satisfaction of knowing how much you'd always envied her; envied the way your parents had always preferred her, how you'd always felt more like a burden to them than a child.

taking a hit from a vape pen and tossing it to the passenger side of your car, you breathed out the vapor before getting out of the car, slamming the door closed behind you, flimsily holding onto your older sister's louboutins, a petty part of you wanting to accidentally drop them to the ground as you made your way to the door.

but when you reached the door, lifting your hand to knock on the door, you noticed it was slightly ajar. with furrowed brows, you stepped inside, your ears filling with the noise of loud shouts and sounds of glass breaking.

you placed down the heels as quietly as possible, pulling your phone out and dialing 911, holding the phone close to your chest as you walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, prepared to press call.

but what you came across caused your brows to furrow.

jenny's fiancé's back was facing you as he threw a vase on the ground, the smashing noise ringing in your ears as you brought your hands to cover them.

"fucking bitch!"

you didn't know what to do, simply watching the man throw a picture into the ground, the glass of the picture frame blending in with the glass from the vase. what used to be jenny's glamorous living room now looked like it was one of those rooms people go to smash up old electronics and plates, just missing the graffiti on the walls, but in place of them were a few fist-shaped holes.

when rafe picked up a glass of amber liquid to his lips, you figured it'd be your best chance to make your presence known, so you cleared your throat, saying his name in a soft voice. "rafe?"

the man turned to look at you, letting out a soft, dry chuckle as you pursed your lips, looking around at the wrecked room. "what are you doing here? is your sister drunk again? 'cause if she is, she can sleep on the fuckin' lawn for all i care."

"no, she just left her shoes and..." you shook your head, taking a few, wary steps towards the man, pocketing your phone. "what's up? did something happen with...?"

"your sister?" rafe let the now-empty glass fall to the ground, a few drops of whiskey now decorating the pile of glass as it smashed, rafe collapsing onto the ground, leaning his head against the back of the formerly-immaculate white couch, that now seemed to be covered in red wine. "that'd be the understatement of the century."

you noticed a gash on his arm, a rather large piece of glass sticking out, red blood staining his white sweater, "rafe, you're bleeding."

the man chuckled, looking down at the cut and shaking his head, "i didn't even notice. woops."

"let me go get my stuff."

"it's really-"

"shut up." you say sharply, rushing outside to your car.

you were kneeling next to rafe, the man pressing a cloth to where the piece of glass had been lodged in while muttering something under his breath while you poured disinfectant onto another cloth. "this is gonna sting, but if you're gonna be a baby about it, i'm gonna let you bleed out."

rafe let out a small, nearly inaudible chuckle and the ends of your lips twitched slightly upwards, "i'm pretty sure i'm not gonna feel it with how much whiskey-"

his sentence was interrupted by a loud hiss he let out when you took away the cloth he'd been holding against his arm, starting to press the one with disinfectant against the wound, your lips curving into a proper smile.

"is my pain funny to you?"

"no." you looked at rafe to see a small smile on his lips, "it turns me on."

rafe let out a guffaw at your statement, shaking his head as you began putting monofilament thread onto the curved needle, the man's brows furrowing as he watches. "how do you even know how to do all this?"

"you don't know?" you let out a chuckle, "of course, why would i assume my dear sister ever speaks about anything other than herself. i'm studying to be a doctor."

"i didn't know that." rafe watched as you brought the needle to his wound, "have you done stitches before?"

"on fake skin." you shrug, starting to stitch up his wound, "so, why did you do all this? you're lucky that thing didn't lodge any deeper."

"i could've just gone to an actual hospital."

"yeah, but wouldn't you rather give your future sister-in-law some practice?" you said, not noticing the way rafe was gazing at you, your tongue peeking out, your brows furrowed in a way that caused small wrinkles to appear on your forehead. "spill."

rafe let out an exasperated sigh, looking away from you, instead focusing on all the broken glass on the ground. he'd have to figure out a way to fix it before jenny got home.

"your sister's cheating on me."

a small oh left your lips as you continued.

"i saw texts on her phone before she left. she told me she was going on a work trip for the law firm she's interning with but she's currently at some hotel with the guy she's seeing."

"she... she always told me she was going out with you, at least once a week, but i'm starting to realize it's not true, is it?"

you chewed on your lower lip as you continued stitching the wound, letting out a soft, quiet, "i'm sorry, rafe. i see her like, once a year on christmas."

rafe nodded his head slightly, "lucky you." the man chuckled dryly, "it all just... made me feel like i'm not enough. that no matter what, the people around me are gonna keep betraying me. that i can never trust anyone."

you let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "i know how that feels."

"you do?" rafe looked down at you, as you finished tying the end of his suture, cutting the thread.

you sat up straight, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you started packing away your stuff. "everyone's always preferred jenny over me. everyone's always picked her over me. my parents always preferred her. every guy i liked always thought she was prettier. all my friends always thought she was cooler." you chew on your lower lip, your throat starting to hurt from the emotion you were trying to hold back, avoiding his gaze, "my entire life, i spent living in her shadow. my entire life i've been 'jenny's sister' and nothing else."

"that can't be true."

"you know what my parents' reaction was when i got into med school?" you chuckled dryly, your eyes turning glassy as you finally looked to rafe, "'that's great sweetie. anyway, did you hear that jenny got engaged? her ring is so gorgeous. oh, and she's doing so well in law school!'" you mimicked your mother's voice, letting out a sigh. "and jenny thrives from it. she's always loved that she's better than me. even as kids, she did everything she could to one-up me."

"she's not." rafe took your shaking hand in his, enveloping it in his larger one, "you just stitched up a half-stranger when you could've just left when you saw me destroying shit. your sister would never do something that selfless. i don't even think she has a selfless bone in her body."

"you're starting to sound like me." you let out a chuckle, shaking your head, "how come you're engaged to her, then?"

"maybe i don't have any either." rafe shrugs, "but i'm not letting her get away with this. i'm not someone to be messed with."

"that sounds ominous."

"you have no idea." he smiles, squeezing your hand.

[pepperonidk]

ii. the song's about to start (can you feel it?) || to.you

↳ "... i'm about to fall for you.''

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoox gn!Reader Summary: Creative constipation. That's what Wonwoo calls the feeling he gets when he realizes he wants to write about how he feels about you. What exactly does he feel about you? That's... inconclusive, he thinks. Warnings: alcohol mentions, cursing Songs Mentioned: partners in crime - finneas, (only) about love - grentperez, buzz - niki

A/N: I'll be releasing a new chapter every day until Christmas, as a gift. :)

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

⏮ previous track || back to playlist || next track ⏭ 

Mingyu is the worst person to have in the car when all you want to do is think.

The thought popped into Wonwoo’s mind as he swatted at a wandering hand reaching for the volume dial on his dashboard. A groan sounded from beside him and Wonwoo rolled his eyes in return. Mingyu was a regular in the front seat of his car, and to his dismay, felt much too comfortable touching everything he could on the dashboard. His chair was leaned back absurdly far and the vents on the air conditioning seemed pointed in every which direction. 

“Wonwoo, I like this song,” he huffed as he reached forward to mess with the volume again. His drunken clumsy hands turned the dial much too far until Wonwoo adjusted it back to a reasonable level. With a sigh Wonwoo gave in and looked forward to his later drive home in silence.

He tapped his fingers against the wheel as Mingyu sang along. Croaked, more like. Mingyu had a melodic singing voice, but that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone hearing him right now. But Wonwoo was used to this, and although he pretended to be annoyed by it, he really didn’t mind. He liked this song too and he hummed along, quiet enough that Mingyu wouldn’t notice.

“You couldn’t look any more like a lover Or a partner in crime Or something of mine”

The song ended and Mingyu reached over to turn the volume down. Wonwoo was thankful, but realized if the radio volume went down, Mingyu’s would have an inverse effect. He looked over at Wonwoo whose eyes were trained on the dark and empty 3 a.m. freeway ahead of him.

“You know,” Mingyu began with a smirk in his voice and Wonwoo tensed, steeling himself for whatever nonsense would escape his friend’s lips. “Seungcheol said he saw you dragging Chan’s friend upstairs earlier.” Wonwoo’s hands grew tighter on the wheel and Mingyu didn’t miss the flush of red that appeared on his cheeks as Wonwoo remembered the brief feeling of your skin on his. He shifted his glasses higher up on his nose bridge. Mingyu’s laugh was grating, Wonwoo thought.

He chose not to say anything. A mistake, really, as now Mingyu, the yapper, had found an opportunity to fill in the blanks with his own speculations.

“Mr. Jeon, I never took you for the frat-party quickie type,” Mingyu continued, laughing to himself. “Especially not with people you write songs about.”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo huffed. “It wasn’t a quickie, I was–”

“Oh so you took your time,” Mingyu cut him off with a playful slap to his shoulder. Somehow he felt his face heat up some more. Wasn’t Mingyu drunk? How was he this perceptive? Thankfully, they weren’t too far from Mingyu’s home.

“We were looking for those two other idiots that hang around Chan,” Wonwoo tried to speak up over the sound of his friend’s guffaws.

“I’m just teasing, you grump,” Mingyu finally relented. He waited a beat before continuing. “But that new song of yours was definitely about them right?”

Wonwoo thought for a second before answering, even though he knew Mingyu already knew what he’d say. He simply nodded in response.

“Knew it,” Mingyu spoke again. The teasing lilt in his voice was soon replaced by something softer. “It’s been a while since you’ve written anything new. It felt new.” 

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asked curiously. He’d always had a particular style when it came to writing songs, and Mingyu had known him long enough to see it become what it was. He didn’t particularly intend to write anything different, he just… wrote as he always did.

Mingyu leaned against the window, thinking to himself. “I’m not really sure myself,” he finally answered after a beat. “It just felt more like you, I guess.” 

The last time Wonwoo wrote a new song was when Joshua was still part of their band. 

Last spring, right as the trees were beginning to turn into various shades of light pinks and pastels, Joshua asked them all to stay after practice to talk. It was an unusual rehearsal from the start, and Joshua seemed nervous much unlike his usual calm and collected self. His dark hair was ever so slightly disheveled and he wore pajama pants instead of his nicer trousers that he usually wore to save time before heading to his office internship after practice.

Joshua clumsily missed notes that he had never missed before, and Wonwoo was more shocked than anyone else to see the founder of their band fumble around like he’d never held a guitar before. So when it came time for them to talk, Wonwoo was intrigued and surprised again when he finally spoke.

“I’m moving,” Joshua blurted out without his usual level of tact.

“You’re–”

“What–”

“Moving–”

Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Wonwoo all spoke at once and Joshua let out a sigh of relief that melted into a soft laugh, as if a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

“Moving? Where?” Wonwoo asked again.

Joshua nodded with a sheepish smile before explaining. “You’ve all met my girlfr— fiance before. We’re both graduating next semester. She got accepted to a music conservatory overseas and my internship offered me a position at their branch in the same city, it just feels like the stars were aligning. It all feels like a sign.” In the many years he’d made music with Joshua, learned his cues and learned his melodies, he saw that Joshua spoke with a twinkle in his eye that Wonwoo had only ever seen when he spoke about his partner.

“I’m sorry to announce I’m leaving the band like this,” Joshua continued. “But I’ll help you find a replacement before I leave. In fact, I already have someone in mind.”

That’s how they found Chan, a friend of Joshua’s fiance who played in the university orchestra with her. They watched his end-of-year recital and sat through his flawless performance of a cello concerto by Saint-Saëns.  It all happened rather quickly after that and without even auditioning, the passionate but impulsive sophomore had become their new bassist.

After going out for a round of drinks at the local pub to celebrate Joshua’s news, Wonwoo found himself outside on the patio, resting his elbows against the railing and thinking about all of this until a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Wonwoo,” Joshua called as he moved to stand beside him. “What’s on your mind?”

He turned around to glance over at his friend. Joshua looked happier now, like he was constantly basking in the glow of something bright, and Wonwoo supposed that in a way, he was. “What does it feel like?” Wonwoo asked vaguely, but Joshua knew what he meant, as he usually did.

“It’s… hard to explain,” Joshua replied with a faraway smile. Wonwoo looked at him and waited for him to continue. “At first, it felt like… well you know, right before a show when we first turn on the amps? There’s a buzz, but it feels electric. It’s a little bit like that, anticipation because you know something good is about to happen.” Wonwoo nodded thoughtfully at Joshua’s response as he continued. “Now it feels so big… like exploring space, if space was safe and warm.” 

After a slight chuckle, a wave of silence washed over the two of them until Joshua spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?” Joshua glanced over at his friend.

“I will be,” Wonwoo answered. “Will you?”

Joshua turned around to face the window and smiled to himself as he watched his fiance laugh at something Mingyu and Seungcheol were saying. “I think so,” he said quietly. “But I’m happy to be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo agreed. “Me too.”

When Wonwoo came home to his apartment that night, he reached for his guitar. He strummed quietly as he felt the familiar wash of inspiration take over him. A soft melody seemed to untangle itself into something that made sense in his head and soon, lyrics came along with it.

“Take my hand and come with me to another place We can walk around the universe tonight.”

He hoped he understood what Joshua had told him. Love as a concept was simple enough to put into an analogy, but difficult to really get, but for his friend, he’d try. He sent Joshua off later that spring with the lyrics and sheet music folded neatly in an envelope, a gift from Wonwoo to the happy couple and felt satisfied leaving it at that between the two of them. And so it was, until Joshua asked him to play it at his wedding six months later. It was his first time singing a song without the rest of the band, but it didn’t feel as scary as he imagined it to be. It was like having a conversation, or writing a letter to his friend. To Joshua.

He hadn’t written a song since then, not until he met you. Mingyu was right and the realization had heat seeping into his cheeks.

“Something something Halloween party,” Mingyu recalled the lyrics to his song, snapping him out of his thoughts. “That line about living in a VHS was pretty cute, what did you say to them to make you think of that one?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo replied and that was an answer enough on its own.

“Oh Wonwoo,” Mingyu cooed as he ran a hand through his hair and shifted to find a more comfortable way to drift off for the last few minutes of the ride, content to let Wonwoo have a reprieve from the teasing.

After dropping off a drunk Mingyu and driving back to his apartment, he couldn’t decide whether to grab his notebook and pen or his guitar. This was a rather frustrating dilemma to have. Usually, he’d feel something akin to lightning and either a simple line or a melody would come to him and he’d grab whatever vessel he needed to bring it alive. 

The song he wrote about you two weeks ago began as lyrics first. He had watched you walk down the sidewalk in your pumpkin costume and groaned to himself as he realized half of your entire conversation was him saying, “cool.” He walked back into the party and through a sea of stupid costumes to find his guitar case and fished out the worn brown leather notebook that he always kept with him and grabbed a pen.

“I want to erase the things I said, but I’ll probably say them again. Wish I could hit rewind and not be so in my head.”

With a few tweaks and a chorus, it had become a song, and Wonwoo was proud of himself. It wasn’t until after he had finally set his pen down and saw he’d written the words “I wouldn’t have let you go leave me,” that he wondered if he really felt that way or if it was just a good line.

At the next party, when you told him you liked the song, the song he wrote about you, he felt something else, and he wondered what to call the flutter he felt in his chest. Attraction, maybe? He learned about the feeling of attraction in class, how the spike in your heart rate and cortisol levels can be read as attraction in the right circumstances… or stress in the wrong ones. With his adrenaline running high after his performance, he decided that the evidence presented was too inconclusive to be labeled one way or another.

Now, he decided to grab his notebook to look back at the page he’d scribbled on, to see if something could give that final push for lightning to strike. He scoured the margins, looking through the various doodles and squiggles and crossed out words. It was incredibly frustrating, Wonwoo thought, to have the desperate urge to write, but not know what to write. It’s probably because he still couldn’t figure out how he felt about you. Anxiety? Attraction? It was something new, but not something he knew how to explain. All he knew was that he wanted to write about you.

Nothing came to him even after flipping through his book, so with a sigh, he gave up and flopped onto his bed. His eyes fluttered shut and hoped inspiration would find him in his dreams.

The next morning, Wonwoo woke up feeling unrested and uninspired. He was expecting to wake up with that familiar whisper of a new melody or a new lyric in his ear, but instead he woke up to the sound of thunder outside. He ran a frustrated hand down his face. Creative constipation, he thought to himself.

Then as he settled into his seat for his psych class, he found himself so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you call his name. His gaze was fixed on his lyrics notebook in front of him until you reached out and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder. The contact snapped his attention towards you and he felt a haze begin to clear.

“Wonwoo?” The tone in your voice surprised him. It was soft and laced with concern. “You okay? I’ve said your name like three times now.” 

“Yeah,” he shook his head as he muttered quickly. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

He watched as you gave him a kind smile, tilting your head. “I hate to break your concentration, but my usual seat has been… taken over.” He watched as you nodded your head towards the row in front where Soonyoung, who was hunched over his laptop, was completely oblivious to the girl in your seat who was leaning toward him with a hopeful, dazed grin. “We’re picking project partners today and I think she’s trying to get Soonyoung to pick her.”

Wonwoo scoffed at the scene in front of him. “She’s wasting her time. I’ve never seen him pay attention to anything in this class that wasn’t a Fortnite stream.”

“Harsh, but accurate,” you agreed with a chuckle. “So can I…?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” he scrambled to move his backpack off the seat so you could settle into it. He watched you sit down and when you smiled at him he suddenly felt his cheeks heat up. He awkwardly tried to bring his gaze back to his notebook, not knowing what to say, but waiting for you to continue the conversation. 

After a beat, you continued. “So,” you leaned in conspiratorially. “Think she’ll succeed?”

He thought for a second before answering, his lips twitching as he did. “Not unless she pays him in… Robucks.”

“V-Bucks,” you corrected him with a playful grin.

“Right,” he twirled his pen in his hand, as if needing something to fidget with. “That.”

You chuckled in amusement. “Well, if she steals Soonyoung, I’ll settle for Chan. We’ve been project partners since we were little, so I’m used to picking up his slack.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at you. “And if Chan gets taken?”

You simply shrugged as you smiled at him playfully. “Then I guess I’d be stuck with you.”

His pen slipped out of his fingers and he blinked at you, his glasses sliding down his nose. “Me?” he echoed.

“Yeah, you,” he blushed as you laughed at his surprise. “Unless you’ve already made plans?”

“I don’t know anyone else in class,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“Neither do I,” you replied easily. “Looks like we’re a great match already.”

For a beat, Wonwoo caught himself just staring at you, unsure of what to say. The tips of his ears felt red hot, and he looked down at his notebook again, scribbling in the margins. “Sure, a good match,” he repeated. 

“So what is it that had you thinking so deeply?” you asked as you pulled your laptop out of your bag.

Wonwoo paused for a beat, wondering how to reply. He wasn’t particularly fond of letting people into his writing process. It felt too intimate. Even Mingyu and Seungcheol had only ever looked into his notebook once and then decided it wasn’t worth being on the receiving end of Wonwoo’s death glare (not to be confused with his usual resting neutral glare). For some reason, he felt as though you wouldn’t be too much of a threat to his creative process.

“I have to write about a feeling,” he began tentatively. “But I can’t really figure out what it is.”

“Oh is this for, like, an essay?” You asked. You tapped on your chin as you thought about what to say.

“Yeah, something like that.” “What’s the feeling?” you continued to ask. Wonwoo found himself intrigued at your willingness to help him, but remembered how quickly you relent to offering your notes to Soonyoung and Chan when they miss something. He figured it’s probably second nature for you.

“Honestly, I’m not too sure myself,” Wonwoo answered honestly but still nervous that you’d see through his flimsy details. 

He was aware of how vague his answer was, but this was the closest thing he could tell you without divulging his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure how much of a help you’d actually be. Songwriting, Wonwoo recognized, was not something that everyone could do, but it was something he did well. He had a knack for being able to step into someone else’s shoes and write about their feelings. Like some sort of twisted empath, he could write a damn good love song without ever having been in love. He figured whatever higher being created him thought it would be funny to have such a stoic man only be able to express himself through a melody, like he was in some goddamn musical. 

The other members of his band had a bit of experience writing as well, but their styles were different from Wonwoo’s. They had a special knack for writing songs that sounded like them. Mingyu’s songs were always more upbeat and catchy, good for parties, and a little quirky. Seungcheol’s songs were much more focused on the rhythm and had fewer lyrics. Chan, although only having written a couple of songs so far, definitely had a more angsty, grungy vibe. It was only from Joshua’s leadership that they all learned to blend their styles into something cohesive.

Most people outside of the band assumed that the majority of songs were written by Mingyu or Seungcheol or even Chan now that he was part of it. But surprisingly, Wonwoo was the real lyrical mastermind behind No Name, although he never opts to correct anyone who thinks otherwise.

“Just write it down,” you replied as if it was the most simple answer. “Even if the feeling doesn’t have a name, you’ll get the point across.” When you looked over to see Wonwoo eyeing you skeptically, you continued.

“Not all feelings have a name,” you went on. “Like the feeling when you’re about to turn a door handle into a surprise party you knew about, or like when you get the first cup of hot coffee for the season because it’s finally cold enough outside for it. It’s like you know it’s the start of something new, something good.” 

Wonwoo could see warmth flashing in your eyes as he watched you list these feelings. It reminded him of Joshua’s words that night. Something about anticipation…

There it was. Lightning. His head shot up as you spoke and you turned to him with wide eyes. You watched as he reached for his notebook and began scribbling into it madly. Before you could ask him more about it, the sound of the professor’s voice filled the room. Wonwoo, however, did not lift his head.

“It’s the feeling of the first coffee run in autumn – can you feel it?”

The last part was a question for himself.

Sure enough, today was the day project partners were being assigned and although Wonwoo spent the majority of the class writing madly into his journal, his ears perked up at the announcement.

“Since you’re all adults and there’s over 60 of you in this class, it’s easier for everyone to just partner up with their current desk partner.” Wonwoo turned and met your eyes and you both let out a sigh of relief. He was glad it was you.

He managed to set his pen down as the professor continued to explain the assignment. “This project is about relationships,” he announced as he walked down the aisle to hand papers out to the class. “For the rest of the semester, you’re going to be getting to know your partner and hopefully yourself, quite well. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can leave the class with a new friend.”

The both of you turned your heads at the sound of Chan groaning as he looked over at Soonyoung. Soonyoung  looked wistfully at the girl who stole your seat, finally giving her attention. Unfortunately, she was in a separate desk cluster. Wonwoo was thankful that things worked out the way they did.

Wonwoo watched you stifle a chuckle at the two in front of you and pass him the worksheet. He scanned over the paper. It was mostly blank, save for a few sentences of instructions and two sections of items to note. 

Under the first section were three items: First impressions of your partner? Who do you think you are? How do you think others see you?

The second section simply stated: At the end of this project, reflect on your earlier impressions and see how they’ve changed. What’s changed about how you see your partner? How they see you? How you see yourself? What social theories or effects do you believe may have affected this change?

“You get out of this project what you put into it,” the professor stated. “The more time you spend with your partner, the more change you’ll see in any or all of the criteria. However, if you decide not to spend any time with them after the initial meeting, you still have some theories to write about.” He chuckled to himself as he scanned the students’ faces.

He continued on. “There’s no criteria for how much or how you spend time with your partner outside of being safe and respectful. But I suggest you do things together that mean something to you. Be intentional with the time you spend together.”

Wonwoo’s previous feelings of relief had suddenly dissipated as quickly as they came. This was a rather intimate project, and although the questions seemed simple enough, being in this class for the semester taught him nothing was ever psychologically simple. He snuck a quick glance over at you, busy writing your name on the top of your paper and writing down quick reminders to yourself in the margins of your notebook where you had neatly organized your notes from class. Your cheeks were pink, and so were the tips of your ears. He was sure his were too.

He looked down at his own notebook, filled with nothing that could help him on an exam. But he had half a song written down. 

It wasn’t until the professor had dismissed the class and Wonwoo was setting his things back in his bag that you finally turned up to look at him with your phone out towards him. “Before you head out, can I get your number?” you asked.

“Sure thing,” Wonwoo reached out for your phone, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours in the process. There was that flutter again, but Wonwoo was ready to chalk this one up to stress. Until he caught a glimpse of your tinted cheeks and suddenly he was at a loss once again. He focused back on the phone long enough to put his number in before handing it back to you, letting his fingers brush yours once again. For research purposes, he had said to himself. Results still inconclusive.

That afternoon, Wonwoo sat at his desk with the worksheet in front of him. The first question seemed easy enough to answer. He didn’t need to think too hard before writing a response.

First impressions of your partner: 

He thought back to his first time seeing you in class. Did that even count? All he ever saw was the back of your head and the way you would raise your hands to rub at your temples at the end of class as you slid your notebook for Soonyoung and Chan to take pictures of. He picked up his pen anyway. Begrudgingly kind, he wrote.

The first time he really saw you was that night at the frat party. You were quick to laugh at his jokes, and quicker to add on. And later, he watched as you danced with Soonyoung, who Wonwoo watched get shot down by a girl who was clearly more interested in the girl with her, even in your stupid pumpkin costume that stood out like a sore thumb. There was something about you that drew people in, he realized. Charming, good friend, obnoxious.

He thought about when you finally left that evening to go study. Hard-working, warm.

The next questions were a lot more difficult to answer.

Who do you think you are?

“Annoyed, mostly,” he muttered aloud as he forced himself to try to think. Although he had a knack for writing about other people, he wasn’t a huge fan of introspection. A musician, he wrote simply. I’m good at what I do, and I do what I’m good at. Simple. Blunt. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, he thought.

How do you think others see you?

This was such a dumb question, Wonwoo thought to himself. He never really cared about how other people saw him. Mingyu always said it was one of his charms, especially on stage, and he agreed. His Twitter DMs seemed to agree as well. But a question was a question, and he wasn’t going to hurt his stellar grade over a dumb question. Charismatic, quiet, intense, cold. 

He finally set his pen down and picked up his phone to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey Wonwoo, are you free this evening?

Before Wonwoo could feel confused at who the hell would be so bold as to message him like this, you quickly sent a follow up text with your name and Wonwoo scoffed. He was amused. He saved your number before replying to you.

Wonwoo: Sure Wonwoo: Did you want to do something?

He didn’t wait long for a response as you quickly texted him an address and a time. The campus cafe, which thankfully was near his apartment, at 7 p.m. so he still had a few hours before he had to meet you. He pulled out his lyrics notebook and looked back at what he’d written during class. It felt like it was coming together and Wonwoo felt content as he grabbed his acoustic and began to strum absentmindedly, trying to figure out what his words sounded like in a melody. It was something simple, but he was happy with it. Mingyu was right, this song felt like him.

For the first time in a long time, he was writing about himself.

When Wonwoo walked into the cafe promptly at 7 p.m., he let out a soft sigh. The smell of pastries, cinnamon, and coffee wrapped around him like a comforting embrace and he took a moment to appreciate the smells of autumn. He scanned around the cafe and found you sitting at a booth by the window, staring out at the street. Now that October had passed, the jack-o-lanterns and skeletons had been replaced with the warm glow of fairy lights and other various holiday decor. As he walked towards you, he found himself catching his breath at the warm glow the lights left on your skin. Pretty, he thought to himself. When you finally turned your head and caught his eye, you smiled at him with a wave. As pretty as he thought you were looking away from him, it had nothing on the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him. 

“Hey Wonwoo,” you greeted as he finally made it to your table. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck and slipped out from his coat, setting them both neatly beside him on the leather seat of the booth. “I went ahead and ordered a little bit before you got here. Figured you’d look forward to something warm to fight the cold.” You gestured at the cream colored mugs that sat on the table and Wonwoo cautiously inspected the one in front of him. The steam still rose from its contents and the smell of Earl Grey tea made his shoulders relax. He wasn’t a coffee person.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo replied softly. “How’d you uh, how’d you know I prefer tea?”

You blushed as you looked away. “I was a little nervous,” you began, your attention once again on the sights outside. “I texted Chan on the way here and asked what kind of drink you preferred.” 

Wonwoo felt himself blush and was thankful that you weren’t looking directly at him. He scoffed before taking a sip of his tea. Seems like Chan pays attention. “Nervous, huh?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as teasing as it did.

You finally turned your attention back to him. “Yeah,” you chewed your lip. “This is kind of an intimate project. Did you see the questions? It felt like some sort of first date survey.”

He nearly choked on his next sip. You were right, and now that you had pointed it out, Wonwoo couldn’t help but fixate on the idea. A first date, he repeated to himself. He hoped the mug hid his blush.

“We don’t have to think of it that way,” you quickly added. Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your panic. “I mean, not that it would be terrible, but this is for class so I think we can keep it professional and then be friends, which I guess would not really be prof-” 

“You’re rambling,” Wonwoo cut you off. He felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about all of this, but he also took note of how you said it wouldn’t be terrible for this to be a date. He let out a sigh and set his mug down. “There’s no pressure at all. We can spend as much or as little time together as you’re comfortable with, and how we spend that time doesn’t have to be anything in particular. We could study, talk, or just sit here in silence too, if you wanted.” He hoped of course, that he’d see you more often, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He knew people saw him as somewhat unapproachable. Even people who scream his name at performances seem to tense up and freeze when they see him on campus. He didn’t want you to be one of them.

To his credit, his words did seem to have an effect on you and he watched your shoulders begin to relax as you reached for your own mug to take a sip. “Thanks,” you began. “Sometimes I get too in my own head. But you’re right. No pressure.”

Glad that you were finally more relaxed, he let a beat of silence sit comfortably between the two of you. When he first met you at that party, you seemed a lot more sure of yourself, not that you seemed unconfident now, but more that you handled interactions with new people in a charming, easy way that he couldn’t. It made him relax knowing he wasn’t the only one who tends to overthink things. He made a mental note to write that down for his assignment later.

It was much easier to just talk after that. Wonwoo felt he had finally redeemed himself after that night where all he could say was “cool.” He was a man of few words… but not that few.

You told Wonwoo about how you’d met Chan, Seungkwan, and Hansol. How Seungkwan had come up to you at recess in elementary school after you had just moved to town and asked about the book you were reading. He was the first to speak to you, and Hansol was the first to drag you along to their adventures. Chan, who was your next door neighbor (and the same age as you), had declared himself your older brother when he found out you didn’t have one. “Everyone should have a big brother,” he had decided at 9 years old.

Wonwoo told you about the band, why it was called No Name in the first place. He and Joshua had started the band in high school with his best friends and kept it going since they somehow ended up at the same university. Mingyu wanted to call themselves The Four-Eyes “because it’s funny. Because you wear glasses.” And when Wonwoo nearly pounced across the table, Seungcheol suggested The Cherry-pops which Wonwoo hated even more. It wasn’t until Joshua broke up the argument and shoved Mingyu back to his seat on the couch that Joshua decided, “If we can’t decide on a name, then we go with No Name.” And that was that.

Wonwoo had found himself smiling at the memory, and chuckled at how long ago that was. Now, somehow, he had become the leader of the band, filling in Joshua’s role as a singer and at times, a mediator.

It was easy to be nostalgic with you, but maybe it was the tea, or the fairy lights that set him up. It wasn’t until both your mugs were halfway empty after a refill that Wonwoo remembered to ask. “So why a cafe?” he asked curiously. 

Your eyes lit up as you began to speak. “Oh, right,” you began. “Remember how we were talking earlier about feelings that don’t have a name and I mentioned the first coffee run in autumn?” Wonwoo nodded. “Well, I finally had some time today, and I thought I’d invite you to join me so you could feel it firsthand.”

Now that it was November, it was well past Wonwoo’s first run to the cafe. In fact, he’d been here at least twice a week since September.

“I know that it’s really late into the season,” you spoke again as if you knew what he was thinking. “And I’ve had plenty of coffee since September. But I’d just been so busy that I hadn’t had a chance to actually sit down inside a cafe and enjoy a cup of coffee.” You smiled as you looked down into your mug.

This is nice, Wonwoo thought to himself. “So what are you feeling?” Wonwoo probed as he recalled your words from earlier. Something new, something good. This was definitely that.

“Like life is about to fall into place.”

Later that evening, Wownoo found himself itching for his phone to text you.

It had only been an hour since the two of you parted ways after he walked you to your car, but he already found himself thinking about when he would see you again. You were easy to talk to but you didn’t mind when he only had a few words to say either. It felt easy. He hadn’t been on many first dates but he knew that none of them had him feeling this way afterwards… Not that this was a first date. Right?

Wonwoo: Hey Wonwoo: Are you free tomorrow? We can meet again if you want.

Tomorrow?  Wonwoo had sent the message before he could think too hard about it. He shoved his phone under his pillow and walked out to the kitchen of his apartment. He grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the island, running a hand down his face. He took a sip and began to pace back and forth.

Like a phone toss when it’s risky but you hit send.

He ran to his desk, momentarily forgetting about the phone, and wrote down the line. And another one. And another one. Until finally, he had a song. He took a deep breath before reaching under his pillow for his phone.

Coffee Addict (psych): I’m not busy :) where do you want to meet?

He thought for a second before an idea popped into his head.

Wonwoo: You know the music studies building? Meet me on the basement floor.

And so the next day he found himself sitting on the floor across from you in a cramped practice room with his hands clasped on his lap. He’s not really sure what had come over him last night after asking you to meet him, but he can’t say he regretted inviting you either. In fact, he woke up bright and early, feeling that flutter again as he thought of seeing you.

“This is cozy,” you joked as you looked around. The room really was cramped, and with a standing piano against one wall of the room, it made it feel even smaller. He wasn’t used to sharing this space with other people, but he didn’t really mind sharing it with you.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry it’s cramped, I know,” he acknowledged. “I just… I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” you asked. “What is it?”

Wonwoo looked up at the piano before standing up and offering his hand out to you. A buzz in his fingertips. A flutter in his stomach. He sat down on the piano bench and patted the space beside him to his right. The bench was wide enough to fit both of you, but Wonwoo didn’t miss the feeling of your leg pressed against his. Before he could overthink himself into a panic, he stretched his fingers over the keys and began to play.

“It’s the anticipation when the amps turn on Just cables and crackle. It’s the first flicker of the neon sign It’s the words stuck in your Adam’s apple.”

He glanced over at you before continuing on to the next verse. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, but you watched as his fingers moved across the keys.

“It’s a bumblebee on a blossom The first coffee shop run in autumn.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide as you recognized your own words.

“The song’s about to start, can you hear it? The door’s about to open, can you feel it? The flower’s about to fruit, can you see it? I’m about to fall for you.”

A buzz. A flutter. He knew what this was.

“About to fall for you.”

A/N: a fun fact about this chapter: Chan knows everyone's favorite drinks. It sounds sweet, but he learned it's an easy way to get on their good sides when he's late for practice.

Also I gave myself butterflies when writing this chapter hehe

[the-cauldron-witch]

Howdy T'Witch! It makes me so happy that you got your blog all up and designed! Those are big days and I’m happy that it looks so good! Hopefully you think so too!

I say that your writing requests were open and I’d love to pick your brain on some light angst if you’re up for it! No worries if you ain’t because hey understandable. The holidays be crazyyyyyy 🤪

But maybe to something to think about if you’re bored and whatever. But I wanted to ask on how do you think the Bayverse Boys would respond to you (y/n) getting amnesia and forgetting about them completely for whatever reason for how ever long? Do you think they’d try to rejog their memory or try to love them better with the chance of a fresh start? Or something else entirely. I am curious and I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve got the time and energy. Thanks for existing!

Hey Anon! (It’s weird to type this and have you not actually be an anon lmao)

I am very happy I finally have my blog up and running how I like, it finally feels like a little home to me. Thank you for noticing! 🫂🫂🫂

Thank you so much for sending an ask, I’m going to have fun with this one! I’m giving them a happy ending though, cause I can’t write angst and not give my boys a good ending. (Also completely unedited and not proof read lol)

Leonardo

The worry and anxiety he feels in the pit of his stomach like he swallowed a lead weight is one thing, but the chest-clenching heartbreak when you shriek at the sight of him and had no recollection of his existence is another.

He keeps a stoic face once you’ve calmed down and while explaining who he is to you, but really this poor guy is absolutely gutted. It takes so much of him to keep a straight face.

Still a bit of a helicopter, using any subtle opportunity to jog your memory of himself. He’ll make a cup of tea for you in the exact way he did on your first date, subtly comment on your outfit when he recognizes it’s something he bought you, anything he could think of to hopefully remind you.

This man does not sleep the entire time. You aren’t sleeping in his bed, how could he anyway? Once he is sure you are fully asleep, he comes to check on you. Listen to see if you talk in your sleep, mumbling about memories or just in case a nightmare decides to haunt you.

When he can’t check on you or do really anything else, he’s meditating in order to keep his emotions in line. He’s completely destroyed, so meditating for hours on end is the only way he can keep himself in check.

Although he’s snappy, irritable, and driving everyone but you away, what Leo really needs is one of his brothers to ignore the attitude and just stand there and let him get it out. By the time he’s done he’s already apologized a hundred times, he’s just lost and broken hearted.

Out of all his brothers, Raph is probably the one that cracks him and gets him to just spit it out. They all know what’s going on and how much Leo’s hurting from it all, but he still needs to let it out. Raph can handle the attitude with ease, brushing it aside and letting Leo get himself together

After what feels like an eternity, you gain your memory back at the most random of times while you happened to be watching him practice his kata. When you start babbling memories excitedly, he picks you up in a hug and cries into you.

It doesn’t matter if anyone’s watching, he’s crying and just so grateful that you remember who he is. Weeping tears of joy and the bottled anxiety finally burst as he holds you. Bear with this poor guy, it’s been a ride for both of you really.

Raphael

This poor guy is so surprised and in shock when you don’t remember him, he thinks you’re playing some sort of prank on him at first.

“Heh- babe, c’mon…don’t joke around like dat”

Once it hits him that this isn’t a prank or joke, you genuinely do not know who he is, Raph practically shuts down.

The love of his life doesn’t remember who he is, even looks at him like he’s the monster he felt he was before meeting you. It breaks his heart so much he locks himself away for a day or two, unfortunately leaving you more confused.

When you start wanting to be near him- no, needing to be near him, is when he starts coming around. He found you pacing back and forth in front of his bedroom door like a cat waiting to enter a closed off room one night.

You couldn’t explain it, but you have this invisible pull and primal need to be near him somehow. To be close, even touching him. Although you don’t remember why, you just know you need to,

Raph starts coming out of his room and trying to act normal, but when his brothers look him in the face an see how red and raw his eyes are, the dark circles, and the heartbreak in his eyes, they know it’s just an act but wisely choose not to comment.

He catches you staring at him while he’s working out, chuckling as you bashfully try to shy away. He doesn’t tease or joke though, instead encourages you to come watch

“I miss my favorite spotting partner,” Raph admits, hoping that will help jog your memory a little. It doesn’t outright, but you do find yourself already knowing how to spot him.

After a few days of you following Raph around like a lost puppy, your memory finally comes crashing back to you when Raph slipped the boxing gloves on you for practice.

Relief. So much relief it washes over Raph like a tidal wave that nearly knocks him off his feet. He holds you and kisses you, telling you repeatedly how grateful and happy he is you have your memory and you’re here. The tears will come at night while the two of you are in bed for the night, but he holds you and everything is okay.

Donatello

Initiate full on analytical mode. He is immediately going through a thousand different scenarios and cures in his head, he almost forgets that *you forgot* who he was all together, so his babbling did nothing to calm you down.

Even with all his knowledge and abilities, it still doesn’t negate the overwhelming emotions he feels when you don’t recognize him. It hurts, makes it hard for Donnie to even breathe, but he hides it behind his science and research.

Sitting in front of his computer for days on end in between checking up on your, it becomes almost like an obsession for Donnie to get your memory back. At the risk of his own health and wellbeing, he does not stop.

From using scents he knows you enjoy, like that cologne you bought for him as a gift or your favorite body wash, tasting your favorite coffee or the tiramisu Donnie bought for the two of you on a date once.

Let’s put on that movie we watched on that one Valentine’s weekend; you were obsessed with it for weeks!

Oh, what if Donnie took you to that rooftop the two of you saw a comet in the night sky once? It was absolutely beautiful, but wasn’t nearly as beautiful as you, he confided.

Countless hours of research keep Donnie from sleeping, honestly at one point contemplating how he could just straight main-line caffeine into his blood stream to stay awake.

Without warning one night, you come into his lab and demand he sleep. Not ask, not coax, you demand Donnie to get in bad with you and get some sleep. He questions if you’ve finally gotten your memory back, but sadly no. And he’s crushed. But you still demand he lay down in bed with you.

Crawling into bed with you with awkward limbs, Donnie is surprised that you lay down exactly as you always do with him. Even without memory, it was like your body still remembered how you fit together.

Quiet tears fall as Donnie holds onto you, sleep mercifully taking him into a deep slumber. Guilt crawled its way into your stomach while trying to sleep, wishing that your memory would just return so you could stop all of this.

Waking up in the morning, you blinked with shock as you look at Donnie- looked at him like you knew him again. And you did. You had woken up with your memory by some miracle.

Kissing and hugging you with love and relief, Donnie can’t keep his hands off of you or keep the tears from smudging his glasses. It was all so hard to believe while it was happening that now it was over, it felt like the end of a tornado.

The two of you decide to sleep in a little longer, only because Donnie could barely hold his eyes open. Frankly, sleep was probably what you needed too after all this.

Michelangelo

Confused. Downright, no jokes confused. How could you not remember him so suddenly? Time just doesn’t erase like that right?

Mikey asks Donnie a million and one questions, repeating or re-wording them or giving scenarios. It drives his brother mad, but he tries to be lenient because Donnie knows how terrified his younger brother is.

He caters to you in every way; offers to get you a drink, make you something to eat, get you a pillow, it becomes a little overwhelming, but you don’t know how to tell him to stop.

When Mikey tries to kiss you and pull away, it was like you could practically hear the way his heart shatters like glass. But he hides it with a smile and flirts, telling you he won you over once, he could do it again.

This is when he starts to flirt with you like he did before the two of you started dating, but with far more strategy and knowledge. Comments about how sweet you are while making your favorite chocolate pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream

Tells you how amazing you look in that shirt or those pants, mostly because he was the one to buy them.

He’ll give you your favorite kind of gifts; favorite flowers, candy, stuffed animals, anything he can think of giving you and jog your memory. Each time it doesn’t work, he’s crushed a little bit more, but he keeps trying.

Plays movies that you and Mikey watched together, shared music playlists the two of you built together over the period of your relationship, and whatever else he could possibly think of. But it still didn’t work.

When you aren’t anywhere near to see, Mikey with let himself cry for a moment out of frustration and sadness that you don’t remember him. It hurts, but by the time you are near he has a smile back on his face.

He thought you were sleeping one night when you found him crying down one of the sewer tunnels away from the lair. The sight broke your heart, which for some reason jogged your memory. Rushing to hug and kiss him, you damn near scared Mikey out of his shell.

“Angelcakes, you remember!?” Mikey shouts, picking you up and spinning you in a massive hug. Thank the pizza Gods, he had you back!

Taglist

@silverwatergalaxy @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

@yorshie @truffle-reblogs @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @thepinkpanther83

@avery73 @luckycharms1701 @tmnt-tychou @suksiskovaikkakuuseen @milykins @justalotoffanfiction

[bisexualbaker]

Oh shit yeah I got this!

Okay, so our main characters, let's call them Steve and Monica, because I need names and don't want to think too hard. Anyway, they grew up together, were platonic ride-or-die for each other in high school, but drifted apart when they went to colleges in different states where they eventually settled down. Monica ended up in a very restrictive state and Steve ended up in a much more pro-choice state. They occasionally message each other on the internet, but nothing really meaningful, usually no more than a Hi on their birthdays or relevant holidays (etc).

Then one day Steve gets a call from Monica. Her recent ex-boyfriend—well, she'd really been thinking of breaking up with him for a couple of months before that, but the final straw was three months ago when she found him messing with her birth control. She immediately kicked him to the curb and went about disentangling their lives, went and got Plan B or equivalent ASAP, just in case.

Well, turns out it was too late: She was already pregnant, and didn't get real confirmation until very recently. And, well, surely Steve knows how things are in the state where she lives.

Steve does know how things are in the state where Monica lives. He also knows that Monica has never wanted to have children, since they talked about it some in high school. There could be various reasons here, from bad experiences with her own parents, to financial reasons, to health reasons, but he never saw fit to argue with any of them. Her choice, right? Meanwhile, Steve himself isn't really sure on the kids thing, but he's leaning towards "no thanks", because he is sure that anyone making the choice to bring kids into the world had better be 100% on board, and he's not, so that means no. (Also, if he feels the need to spend any time with kids, he's got local friends and/or family with little ones he can spoil.)

Anyway! Steve tells Monica that it sounds like she's been having a rough time, maybe he could come pick her up and she could spend a week or two at his place, get resettled after everything that went down with That Jerk (very clearly not saying what else they could, or rather will, be doing while Monica is visiting). Deeply relieved, Monica takes him up on his offer enthusiastically. Steve calls his job, takes a few weeks off of work, and drives over to pick up Monica.

They've got an appointment in Steve's state, but it's still some days away, so they take a leisurely trip back to Steve's. All the while they're reconnecting, and Steve is noticing that all of the things he liked about Monica as a friend in high school are still there, and are also things he'd really like in a life partner. Her sense of humor, her willingness to compromise, her determination to find a way to make things work, her money sense... She's also much more confident in herself than she used to be, which Steve finds really attractive.

Or at least, she's more confident in herself whenever pregnancy shit isn't getting to her. Steve already knew that pregnancy and kids aren't something Monica ever wanted, but if he ever needed more convincing, he's getting it both on this road trip and when they get back to his condo. Still, he does everything he can to try and keep Monica's spirits up, to distract her and/or make sure she's prepared for her abortion and everything it will involve. (All the while, he's also learning what he can to make sure he can help her through the aftermath. Apparently post-partum isn't necessarily just for giving birth; all those hormones and body changes can also hammer down after any other pregnancy ending circumstances!)

Steve drives her to the clinic, waits with her when she asks him to, waits for her during, and does everything he can to make her as comfortable as possible as she recovers. One thing after another is just more yes, yes, yes, this is what he wants in his life, Monica is who he wants in his life.

He's a bit stuck on how or if to confess, though; this was a deeply shitty situation for Monica, and it's also something he could hypothetically hold over her legally after everything, which he would never do, but he knows might make things more difficult for both of them. Then, a day or two before he's set to start driving Monica home, he checks in on Monica packing—only to find her crying.

Steve immediately asks Monica what's wrong, if he can help with anything, and Monica just starts crying harder. She ends up confessing her own feelings, how she started to fall for Steve when he didn't judge her for her shitty ex-boyfriend and how she wanted to terminate the pregnancy (which more than a few of her local friends had), and then everything else he did to make her feel happy and secure while helping her out just really sealed the deal! She got half way through packing before she realized that she didn't actually want to leave him, but she also didn't want to put pressure on him after he'd done so much for her already.

Steve immediately hugs her and confesses back, telling her he doesn't want her to leave either but didn't want to put pressure on her, and also maybe this was a little soon after all of the everything going on. But he would love to go out to dinner with her properly, before he takes her back home, and again when they get there, and then maybe they could see how things go from there? They can try doing long-distance for a month or two, and if they're both still certain, they can get together more formally and figure out where to live.

Fast-forward ten years, Monica and Jake are happily married, with three dogs and a tortoise. They still don't want kids.

The end.

Edit: Okay, this is not "and the person who got them pregnant", but it mostly still works!

there's an extremely niche plot in romance fiction wherein our invariably heterosexual leads fall in love after a night of passion leads to an unplanned pregnancy and they're now bound together by an impending child. I cast no judgment on anyone who enjoys this, but since I'm an evil gay and this is my personal nightmare scenario I want to see a zany romance novel premised on the opposite resolution: a couple falls in love while on a whirlwind roadtrip to obtain a legal abortion

[recluserat]

Hey, It's the Dwayne/Michael anon again. I'm curious...what do you imagine the dynamic to be between these two? As in, who makes the first move? Who's the most assertive/dominant in the relationship? Who confesses their feelings first? etc etc. And how did you think up this ship? Sorry if it's too many questions, it's just that you've gotten me hooked on these two lol

ooooooo anon, welcome back! I love these questions but I am going to be so honest with you that prior to seeing this ask I had not thought this hard about the ship. I have been going purely based off vibes and the gut feeling that those two ppl need to be kissing posthaste. That being said, I love this ask bc it made me actually sit down and think about the way I view these two as both characters and as a couple so here are my new answers: 1. Whenever I think of the two of them the ship dynamic that comes to mind is "silent and stoic x perpetually confused". At the same time though, I think Dwayne is an instigator who will nudge Paul and Marko with little comments and then sit back and watch the drama unfold. Meanwhile I feel like when it comes to the vamps, Michael doesn't really know what's going on but he keeps managing to get himself wrapped up in their shit. He likes to instigate as much as Dwayne does but he's not smooth enough with it to not be dragged along and also his big brother instincts kick in sometimes and he feels like he should back them up. Only sometimes though. Other times he's perfectly happy to sit back with Dwayne and laugh at the others. 2. I think that Dwayne would flirt with Michael first, but once Michael registers that this man is flirting with him he's 100% committing to it and will flirt harder than Dwayne. Dwayne has been around Santa Carla for a while and is like... Apex Predator Mode so I think he wouldn't be afraid to flirt with someone who catches his eye. Meanwhile Michael is new to town, probably not going to be making any moves on strangers straight off the bat yk. But once Dwayne opens that door Michael is fully tossing himself through it. 3. I have so many different Dwayne/Michael stories swirling around in my mind right now that I can't for sure say who I think would definitively always be the one to confess first, but I have imagined the different ways they would do it. I think Dwayne would do his best to use his actions rather than his words, acts of service/physical touch stuff first. He would give Michael special treatment ie. always buys him food on the boardwalk, give him first dibs on anything he wants, always finds excuses to be close to Michael and have his hands on him in some way whether that's fixing the collar of his jacket or just resting his hand over Michael's shoulder while they're standing around. If he HAS to verbally say it I think it would be quiet. Something short and straight to the point while also being flirty, smting like "You know you drive me crazy" or smthing while being all up in Michael's personal space. Meanwhile, with Michael I think he would also do the whole physical touch thing, but less consciously. He starts gravitating to Dwayne without even noticing - parks his bike next to him, sits with him on the couch, always looks to Dwayne first when one of the other guys makes a crazy suggestion to see what Dwayne thinks. I think that whenever Michael does verbally confess it would be big, and somewhat aggressive. Fists full of Dwayne's jacket while his voice is raised talking about how he felt watching someone else put their hands on him, sloppy kisses, that sort of thing. I like to picture the level of emotion that Michael had in the movie when he confronted David on the boardwalk with the whole "where's Starr?" thing. But because he's Michael I think he wouldn't even realize that he liked Dwayne like that until that big explosion. TBH, I'm not really sure where this ship came from. I feel like with TLB there's only so many ships you can do that involve Michael and the vamps. I've read a bunch of stuff on Ao3 and the most common ships I see are David/Michael, David/Starr, Michael/Starr, and poly vamps+michael. I love rare pairs and Dwayne is my favorite character so one day I was just kinda like... what if.....????? and started writing about the two of them together. Thank you for this ask! I have so many more ideas for Dwayne/Michael stuff now that I have to go write down somewhere

[angerybabydino]

Did a 15+ hour road trip with my fam twice a little ago and I drove a good chunk of it. Used AA/DGS music to keep me awake bc music psych is a blessing sometimes. Anyway, just a roundabout way to say, I have discovered some fun things in the music that made me 👀👀👀 Idk if anyone else has noticed any of it (and I will say I have minimal music theory knowledge but I'm an English major with the tendency to read into symbolism way too much), but feel to keep reading if you're interested! Spoilers for DGS2 are in here, fair warning!

I'll try and include links to the songs when I can! It'll probably be a mix of Spotify and YouTube hyperlinks so bear with me. Fair warning, this is super long because I decided to cram everything in one post oops lmao

The Funky Time Signature

The first thing I really ever noticed was that Sholmes' "Dance of Deduction"s were weird in terms of keeping beat. It's not in common time aka 4/4 aka 8-count; I think it's in 7/8 time (so you count 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 etc. etc.) which is a struggle to maintain counting since people are so used to 3, 4, and 8-counts.

Dance of Deduction - Type A

I found sheet music for easier counting! It says it's in 7/4: https://youtu.be/51vTmoQzwI8

Originally, I thought it was just because he's Weird and Silly™, but I ended up listening to "Partners - The game is afoot" which plays when Sholmes and Yuujin are on the S.S. Grouse trying to deduce where Jigoku is.

Partners - The game is afoot!

This one is surprisingly in 4/4 aka common time (you count 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 etc. etc. [though I have seen sheets put it in 12/8, which is close-ish, but it still has an even counting pattern WHICH IS WHAT MATTERS]). So in actuality, Shomles' Dance of Deductions aren't in a weird time signature because he's our favorite eccentric boy (okay, it might be part that too); it's because he's missing his partner after he left and investigating never felt quite right without him. Once he and Yuujin get to investigate together again, he's whole and happy. And it's just so fucking gay I can't.

Harpsichord

The big thing I noticed while I was driving (because there was nothing else interesting on the road) was the use of harpsichords in certain Londoner themes, specifically Stronghart, van Zieks, Iris, and Kazuma's prosecutor theme, as well as some of the final songs during 2-4&5.

If you don't know, this is what a harpsichord sounds like! Yes, I know I'm a nerd for being able to pick it out and name it while driving lmao

You can hear it a lot in Stronghart's theme, specifically around 0:38-0:49 (it's pretty in the background so you kinda have to strain your ears but it's there), but it's also pretty present throughout his theme.

Lord Chief Justice Stronghart - Time-Keeper of the Law

There's also a lot of it in van Zieks' theme as well; it's right off the bat and it's one of the prominent instruments throughout the piece.

Barok van Zieks - The Reaper of the Bailey

You have to really be listening for it, but it pops up occasionally in Iris' theme as well! You kinda have to strain your ears during 0:16-0:30 to hear it, but it's definitely there. It's more hidden compared to van Zieks'.

Iris Wilson - Young Biographer

I know Kazuma is Japanese, however, since he became a prosecutor in Britain, it still counts and it makes more sense once I tell you why it's all related (if you haven't guessed yet). ANYWAY, his theme also has a lot of harpsichord in it, even in the parts that were from his original theme.

A Prosecutor, Reborn

This could all just be a stylistic choice too, but do you see it yet? All the people who correspond with these themes are directly related to the Professor killings. van Zieks and Kazuma have the most prominent because we know by 2-4 the obvious connections they both hold. Iris and Stronghart's are more in the background since both of their involvements are big reveal-type deals by the end of the game.

Bonus points: the actual theme that plays when anything related to the Professor is mentioned also has some background harpsichord to connect it all.

The Professor - A Spectre Revived

I will note that I didn't notice anything in Gregson's theme, even though he played a big part in the false conviction. Courtney Sythe's theme also has some harpsichord, but I can't remember how she's related to it other than the fact that she helped with the autopsy (which probably means I should replay the games again lol).

Other game music that proves the connection:

Enoch Drebber - Rondo of Science and Magic

The Great Gateway to the Truth

The Prison Warders

The Great Closed Trial - Court is Now in Session

Reminiscences - The Fruits of Ambition

Others I probably completely missed

A Prosecutor, Reborn

Speaking of Kazuma's prosecutor theme, one of the really cool things about its composition is the warring back and forth between itself. It starts with the completely new theme, blending his usual string accompaniment with drums/cymbals, singular bell tolls, and harpsichord. When it gets to around 0:47, you hear the bells and then it switches back to his original theme from Adventures, though it's a lot grander now and lacking a lot of the traditional Japanese elements it once had.

A Prosecutor, Reborn

Kazuma Asougi - Samurai on a Mission

And it bounces back and forth like that until the end of the song, the bells signifying the shifting. It goes to show this internal struggle Kazuma is having between finding the truth even if it's something he won't like (his original theme) and following his emotions to falsely convict van Zieks as revenge (the beginning chunk of his prosecutor theme).

I also think it's interesting how dominating the harpsichord is, again especially over the chunks of his original theme from Adventures. In connection to it being related to the Professor, aside from the obvious connection to his father, it also shows how much influence and manipulation Stronghart had over him, with him being the BBEG.

Siblings

One of my favorite things I noticed was Susato and Kazuma's connections through themes, though not the one you're thinking. Kazuma's official theme I'm sure has a few connections to Susato's (but I haven't listened closely enough to hear them), however I really noticed how intertwined the two were when I listened to Kazuma's unused theme they provided in Chronicles.

Susato Mikotoba - A New Bloom in the New World

Kazuma Asougi (Unused)

Many of the same instruments are used, as well as note and chord progressions. They have the same peaceful/serene vibes too, which is understandable in why Kazuma's was scrapped (even if I do like it a lot). But if this ended up being Kazuma's actual theme, I would've noticed the familial relationship they share instead of my initial thoughts of it purely just being professional.

That's all I've really noticed for now, but I'm sure I'll come across more things as I listen to the soundtrack to study. I will, however, shut up now and let you get back with you day/night/whatever time of day it is for you because this is getting l o n g. If you did read this far, thank you for indulging me and listening to me be a complete nerd ^w^ And definitely feel free to share your thoughts too; I love talking about this stuff if you couldn't tell!

[fingertipsmp3]

My eczema is actually driving me out of my mind I swear to fucking god

[eufezco]

LIKE THE FIRST TIME

it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.

logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter

it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.

in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.

he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.

—how was your day?

logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.

—did something happen?

you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.

—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.

you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?

logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.

—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.

you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.

logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.

—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.

you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.

your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.

you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.

your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.

your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.

—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.

you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.

he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.

you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.

your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.

—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.

with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.

—it was one of your favorite tshirts.

—don't care.

and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.

all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?

now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.

he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.

—you're beautiful —. he whispered.

logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.

you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.

—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.

you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.

logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.

you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.

he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.

between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.

you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.

—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.

oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?

logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.

—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?

you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.

—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.

—felt too good to even think about it.

you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.

—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.

he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.

[skywalkerslvt]

Rough Ride (so rough)

❥Pairing: RE2!Leon x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: What happens when you have to sit on Leon's lap for a very long and bumpy car ride? Leon's pants get soaked 😍

❥CW: 18+, smut, sub!leon, dry humping, cumming in pants, overstimulation, crying kink, semi-public sex, sorta non-con at first? but both parties are consenting, 1.6k words

❥a/n: can you guys tell how much I like dry humping from the amount of times it shows up in all my fics? anyways RE2 Leon is so subby i need to make him cry so I wrote this. Also my requests are open if any of u leon sluts wanna request something 👀 Hope you guys enjoy! <3 pics are from pinterest

Leon Kennedy was utterly fucked. Both literally and figuratively. He was approximately one hour into the grand camping trip that your shared group of friends had planned, and it was already off to a bumpy start.

It started with the excessive amount of luggage you and Claire had decided to pack. The trunk was bursting at the seams, and the backseat was already crammed with more than it could reasonably hold, leaving the driver seat, the passenger seat, and a single seat in the back free for its intended use.

With Chris driving and Claire staking her claim on the passenger seat, that left you and Leon with the single seat to share.

And when you whispered a seductive “I guess we’ll have to make do,” with a mischievous glint in your eye, Leon knew he was done for.

Before he could respond, he was shoved into the car, barely even registering that you were manoeuvring yourself into his lap, carefully trying to find a comfortable position.

At first, Leon was awkward. It wasn’t every day that the girl he had a massive crush on was situated on his lap, and especially not for a 2 hour long drive like this one. But as you leaned against him and whispered a soft “Relax,” he eventually settled in, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder.

The first hour was fine, enjoyable even. Leon had managed to stave off a massive boner, and everyone had been happy despite the luggage situation. But issues started to arise as Chris turned the car onto a bumpy gravel path in the woods.

“We’re gonna be on this trail for about an hour and then we'll be at our camping spot. It might get a bit bumpy,” Chris muttered quietly, not wanting to wake up his sister who had dozed off against the window.

As the car drove deeper into the forest, the road became more uneven, causing you to bounce slightly in Leon’s lap. His cock started to twitch, the boner he managed to avoid coming to as all his attention was focused on that single point where your ass was softly bouncing on his cock.

Leon was flushed head to toe, his teeth worrying his lower lip as the rate of his breathing increased. His cock was now fully hard and leaking pre-cum in his boxers, and by some miracle, you hadn't noticed. Needing to feel more friction, he pushed his hips up slightly, softly grinding his hard dick against your ass, playing it off as shifting to a more comfortable position. He felt like such a pervert, getting off against your ass while you were completely oblivious, but the weight of you on top of him felt too good to stop.

He had managed not to make a sound, harshly biting down against his surely bruised lip any time he felt like moaning, but when Chris hit a particularly hard bump, causing you to bounce harshly back into his cock, he let out a barely audible whimper, right against your neck.

Leon stiffened, panicking as he was sure he got caught. You were going to realize what he had been doing, and you'd think he was a disgusting pervert, never wanting to see him again.

But as you turned your head slightly, concern etched on your features, and asked him if he was okay, Leon went lax with relief. You didn’t know.

“Y-yeah- Sorry I was just startled by the bump,” he stammered out.

You smiled softly, seemingly unaware of the turmoil raging inside him. “It's okay. These roads are pretty rough. Just hold onto me if you need to, okay?”

Leon swallowed hard, nodding. “Sure, thanks.” You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, then turned back around and shifted your hips, moving in a more comfortable position. Leon’s hold around your waist tightened and his dick twitched at the feeling of you moving against him.

The car continued to jostle along the uneven path, each bump sending another wave of sensation through Leon’s body. He tried to focus on anything else–the trees whipping past outside, the sound of Chris humming along to the radio, the soft snores of Claire asleep in the front–but his mind kept coming back to the warmth and pressure of you against his twitching cock.

Desperate to maintain some semblance of control, Leon shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would ease his arousal. It was useless. Every movement, every slight adjustment only heightened the friction, the pressing of your body against him his own personal torture.

Minutes felt like hours as the car bumped along the trail, each jolt a reminder of the situation Leon found himself in. To make matters worse, you began shifting, unknowingly pushing your ass against his cock continuously, and Leon couldn't help himself. He just had to cum, so he began grinding against you again, timing his thrusts with your shifting.

He closed his eyes as his thrusts got sloppier, the building heat in his gut reaching its peak. He knew he couldn't hold out for much longer, and he was careless with his sounds, his heavy breathing against your neck becoming louder and louder.

Leon's body tensed, and with a muffled groan, he came, his cock twitching as he spilled into his pants. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as the car continued to jostle along the path, your ass still bouncing in his lap, overstimulating his already sensitive cock.

His breathing grew ragged, and tears began to well up in his eyes. He couldn't take it anymore, the friction becoming unbearable, and he bit his lip hard, trying to stifle his whimpers.

Despite the overstimulation, the continued friction of your ass bouncing against him caused his cock to twitch and harden once more, much to his confusion and frustration. The sensations were too much to handle; his body was a mess of sensitivity and arousal, and he couldn't stop the tears that began to spill down his cheeks.

Leon's mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the overstimulation blending into a desperate need for more. His hips involuntarily thrust upward, seeking more friction, even though it was torturous. Each bounce of your ass pushed him closer to the edge again, and he couldn't understand how he could be this turned on despite having just cum.

Minutes felt like hours, and Leon's body was on the brink of collapse. The continued friction, combined with his heightened sensitivity, pushed him to the edge once more. He tried to stay silent, but soft whimpers escaped his lips, tears streaming down his face as he clung to you, desperate and needy.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, you turned your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips.

The realization hit him like a freight train—you knew. You had known all along. Your smirk widened as you watched him, your eyes dark with arousal.

You leaned in, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "You've been such a good boy, Leon."

Leon's breath hitched, his body trembling as your words sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. He was overwhelmed, his senses on overdrive as you licked the tears from his face, your tongue tracing a path along his cheek.

Without warning, you began grinding against him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. The friction was maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his overstimulated cock. Leon's hands tightened around your waist, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to hold on.

"You like this, don't you?" you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing amusement. "Getting hard again so soon after cumming. Such a needy boy."

Leon could only nod, his voice failing him as you continued to grind against him, each movement sending him spiraling further into a state of desperate arousal. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

Your pace quickened, and Leon's breath came in short, ragged gasps. Each grind of your hips sent jolts of pleasure through his overstimulated body, and he clung to you as if you were his lifeline. His tears mingled with sweat, his entire world narrowing down to the intoxicating friction and your teasing whispers in his ear.

With a final, deliberate roll of your hips, you sent him over the edge again. Leon's body convulsed, his cries muffled against your shoulder as he came for the second time, his cock throbbing and spilling more cum into his already-soaked pants. His tears of overstimulation turned to tears of overwhelming pleasure, his entire being consumed by the raw, intense sensations. You held him tightly, a satisfied smirk on your lips as you licked away his tears, savoring the sweet taste of his submission.

As the last waves of his orgasm subsided, you continued to move gently, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from his exhausted body.

Leaning in close, you kissed him tenderly, a silent promise of many more games to come. In that moment, Leon knew he was utterly and completely yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When they finally pulled up to the cabin, Chris hadn't even fully parked before Leon threw you off his lap and bolted for the door. His face was a deep shade of crimson, and he mumbled a halfhearted excuse about needing to use the washroom, doing his best to conceal the completely soaked front of his pants. As he disappeared inside, you couldn't help but laugh softly, the image of his flustered expression etched in your mind. You exchanged a knowing glance with Claire, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. Smiling innocently, you shrugged, already anticipating the next opportunity to tease Leon further.

[9kittie]

I am BEGGING for more exhusband Rafe… we all know they’ll only ever really want each other but imagining jealous Rafe thinking someone is trying to take his ‘wife who isn’t his wife but totally is still HIS wife’, I know it would be deliciousssssss! Especially with wifey acting like she doesn’t notice anything wrong - hint! - she does 😉

when exhusband!rafe's little girl obliviously spits out, "mommy has a 'new friend' that comes over sometimes! he's so nice!" it has him floored.

18+ smut, mdni!

rafe had been arguing back and forth with clients about a deal. already angry and out of patience all while having to watch his daughter on top of it all. it was a lot to take in during the heat of the moment.

he's letting the four year old babble his ears away, answering some emails in the living room while the child ruined the place with toys. his eyes snap up, all wide before giving a confused face and he's pushing away his laptop for a second, leaning in with one ear to make sure he heard those words right.

and when it's confirmed, he's at a loss of words. letting out a "hmph." and nodding, before adding a, "that's uhh, that's unfortunate."

he's back and forth with his feelings. between giving you the benefit of the doubt or letting all his anger take over and let his feelings get hurt. in the end though, he's sick to his stomach thinking too much about you wrapped up in the sheets with some other guy that definitely doesn't know how to take care of you like he does━━ pushing aside his work and stressing out his mind.

it's the next day that he's going out to the country club to drink and relax his mind. being cooped up at work and at home burning himself out, you consistently consuming his thoughts. he just can't take it anymore.

rafe walks in with their daughter on one hip, a small smug smile on his face all while she laughs away at something he said earlier in the truck. putting her down and scanning the country club bar before his eyes set on you, with another man.

you'd met him only about two weeks ago and he had a little daughter of his own. starting to invite him over while he brings his own daughter in for a play date, it's no harm.

while you intentionally kept it from rafe you hadn't seen a problem with it and it's evident in the way you laugh, eyes sparkling and hands roaming over his forearm while he's eyeing you up and down.

rafe's pissed, no doubt. you see it when you catch his eyes, bringing the sweet margarita drink up to your lips and keeping a small smirk all while taking a sip before your kid is running up to you, a small squeal and a big hug to your legs.

cooing at her, rafe's eyes alter from you and the guy. he's a pussy. rafe can tell by the way the guy just stands and he's already scoffing under his breath. his stomachs in a twist and he looks as devastated as the day you'd thrown your ring back at him. he still wears his ring for christ sake and your fucking up his mind the way your giving a teasing look, knowing what you're causing him.

a game of cat and mouse.

he's letting out a huff through the nose, not even thinking about greeting you before he's calling out, "c'mon, mommy's clearly busy with some sucker. hurry up and let's go, don't have time right now." a whines leaving the little girls lips but she's running straight back to her daddy anyways because he's her favorite. he's picking her up, walking out, and not looking back. fighting back small tears as he then drives off.

your minds in shambles after that, genuinely watching as he walks away with parted lips and wide eyes and although it was fun to know that he's still onto you, it's hurting you to see your favorite man all upset because of you. his usual confident stride no longer there.

it's your turn to pick up your daughter now. all giddy and excited while you're stood in front of rafe's front door with a sugary sweet smile on your lips. typical whenever you're visiting your ex husband.

you expect his praises and hands all over you as soon as he opens the door but instead, your met with a dead look in his face. staring you down as he opens the door wide and silence is taking over the two of you. nervously, you're watching him with guilt tripped eyes as you walk in and he's closing the door a little too loud. snatching the diaper bag for your daughter and walking past you with no sign of any affection and it has you pouting so big.

he's walking right back out empty handed and he's stomping all around the house. it has you watching with wide and scared eyes, stomach turning in a sick way.

"kids asleep, need to talk t'you. upstairs." and he's tugging at your arm, eyebrows sinched together as you look him over and he's not even wearing his engagement ring anymore. that's enough to have you batting your lashes away with worried tears swelling in your eyes.

"go sit outside, clearly you've lost your damn mind." he's rough housing you. pushing you towards the balcony that's right outside the master bedroom and your immediately sat, eyes towards the ground and swallowing down the fear which holds your head in a choke-hold.

is he done with me? did i overdo it?

quite frankly, he was close. but not close enough because nothing could ever really push him over the edge. he understands the way you fein for attention and he knows the ways which you like to play for fun at times. but the way you played that type of game has him so angry and he feels his old self creep back for just a tiny bit.

you hear a bit of shuffling around, before he's coming out with his ring and yours. holding them up to your face. "see these two things? the things that tied us t'gether. did none of that shit matter to you?" he's so hurt when he says those last words, shaking his head slightly because he just cannot believe their having this conversation.

you're blinking dumbly up at him, words not coming out of your mouth before he's bending down and getting right up into your face. "when i talk to you, you answer, got it? understand? good." he's not even waiting for you to reply and that's how you know he's so done.

"of course it matters to me, i was only-" and he's grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. his eyes are scary, and it's so new for you because he's usually so in love. so soft and gentle with you but he's got you wanting to run away and it has you so angry with yourself.

"we have a daughter t'gether, and you're all out and about with some- some guy while i'm sat here catering to everything you fuckin' have! you like that? like seeing me this mad?" and he's aggressively letting go of your jaw as he's taking in a breath, standing up straight, and shutting his eyes while he pinches his nose.

"'m sorry, didn't mean to make you so angry i was only being selfish." shaking your head before you're watching him sit down next to you, leaned forward and rubbing his face. "so sorry, i really mean it."

he's not really acknowledging your words, tongue in mouth before he's speaking up again. not looking at you, but forward, deep in thought.

"you guys fucking? how long has he been going around your house. the house i pay for." he's saying it with a mix of a calm and angry tone, and the silence isn't helping his thoughts.

you're debating, and you know you shouldn't. know it's better to actually tell him but the fear of losing him over this has you freaking out like never before. "just.. just like two weeks. not long, he has a daughter he-" she's cutting herself off. watching the way he looks over his shoulder, dead eyes and tongue glazing over the back of his cheek as his head is tilted to get a better look at you.

"i'm sorry." you whimper out. he scoffs, shaking his head and standing up to rub his face once more.

"when i sit here and give you everything, what makes you think it's okay to mess with me like that? to fuck with my head s'much. because i'm one step closer to putting you out on your god damn own, think you can survive? huh!?" he's practically roaring his words and you're so startled.

tears touching your poor cheeks and bottom lip wobbling before you're standing up with hands over your eyes, falling into his embrace.

"'m serious! didn't mean it will never do it again just- please don't leave me. only want you rafe, i promise. will do anything for you." rambling words into his chest while he stands there, jaw clenched and eyes straight forward before he's stroking your hair and wrapping his big beefy arms over your delicate body.

"shh, gonna- gonna make this right okay? just gotta learn to give me some respect, yeah? i'm the god damn daddy of your child, baby what d'you think this is?" he's scoffing to himself, bending his head down to kiss all over your cheek.

"can you put your ring back on." a small huff leaving your mouth and he's nodding, chuckling in mockery before forcing your face up by his hand gripping your jaw and giving you a good, sloppy kiss.

"i'll put it back on once this pussies good to act right." he's letting go of your jaw, tapping your cheek lightly with his hand and gripping your clothed cunt. "yeahh," he begins, smiling all wide while you mirror his expression before he's going straight faced and tone serious, "go get on the bed, since you wanna make me put you in your place. seems you forgot it, a shame. coulda' gotten a creampie t'day if you really acted right."

˖ ݁ ݁˖ ≽ܫ≼

the harsh sounds of fucking are ringing through the room, rafe's harsh slap to your ass causing a muffled squeal out of your mouth while you drooled all over the pillows.

he's got one hand on the headboard, keeping it from banging on the wall while the other is gripping an ass cheek and everything hurts so so good. eyes watery and rolling back with each thrust he put force into.

"bet he doesn't- nah, couldn't fuck you like i do huh? already know the fuckin' answer." he's angry all over again, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering from the way your leaking all over his dick and his words got your pussy fluttering.

you're letting out a "mm-mm" in agreement before being tugged up by your hair, a moan leaving your worked out throat. "fuck, got you all pathetic, hah." he's giving a mean mocking laugh, tugging your hair harder.

"'s too much! please, can't take it anymore." you're practically yelling out before he's letting out a 'tsk' and pushing your head back into the pillow, his pants being heard right above your ear as his weight can be felt on your back.

"say no ones better, cause' i know- fuckkk, know you'd never meet anyone like me. say you're my girl, baby." his voice is low, and so intimidating. has you squeezing your pussy tight around him and his hips stutter, a low groan being let out right into your neck. kisses being trailed all along your shoulder.

"i'm-! i'm your girl!" moaning out while overstimulation courses over you and it's as if he sensed it. rubbing circles harshly onto your clit from behind before he's wrapping a hand around your throat and making you sit up on your knees straight, the angle making your eyes roll back.

"my girl, huh? better keep that shit in check, greedy bitch." and he's sending a slap to your tit before pushing you back into the mattress. ass up, face down.

he really is the best man around.

[laligraves]

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 

She throws a sponge at your head. 

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  

- 

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 

“Good morning,” you whisper. 

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 

“How did you know–” 

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 

“How dare you–”  

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 

His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 

“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from. 

[miharuki]

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 (𝕱𝖊𝖒) 2

You woke up with a headache, feeling your head throb painfully. For a moment, you really thought you were in your real-life home until you looked up and saw the bed canopy, adorned with fine, luxurious fabrics. A typical bed of ancient nobility, you couldn't even sit up without your head pounding from the pain. Who would have thought that crying so much could make you feel this bad?

In pain, you turned, now looking out of the bed. For a moment, you began to notice that the furnishings in the room were more refined, even though they were of a different color. You started to think that this room wasn't, in fact, yours. Looking at the door, you noticed the luxurious details that accompanied it, making you realize that you were neither in your real-life bedroom nor in your noble bedroom in this world.

You started to think a lot, which made your head hurt even more. But you finally managed to understand what happened last night and how you agreed to go with the young man. Now, finally turning to look at the ceiling, you sighed, knowing you were probably not in extreme danger and that being kidnapped was off the list since you had agreed to the situation.

Placing your hands on your face, you thought about the situation at the ball, now considering how your family in this world would probably disown you. What initially seemed like a simple matter turned out to be much worse. In this world, being disowned didn't just mean being removed from the family's inheritance; it meant being officially regarded as not part of the family at all. It was as if they erased you not only from their will but also from their lives. In more extreme cases, it could even mean being expelled from the house.

"Are you alright? You were quite warm last night; you had a fever," said a familiar voice. Turning, you confirmed it was the same young man from yesterday.

Forcing your aching body, you managed to sit up in bed, placing a hand on your forehead as the dizziness from the headache set in. "Yes, it's nothing serious. I apologize for my manners," you said. It was evident that simply lying in a bed that wasn't yours while the host stood by was considered almost impolite in this world.

"Liar… please, miss, don't push yourself too hard. You still seem unwell," the young man said, his voice calm and concerned. If you could look now, you would see the care and worry in his eyes.

"I've been sick many times before," you found yourself thinking, almost mocking your own situation. The boy seemed to sense your sadness and silence. He raised his hand and gently placed it on your shoulder.

He had already felt he was violating your space by touching you the night before, but the pain of seeing your sick body had pushed that feeling aside. Now, with you safe, he felt he needed your permission, but he couldn't help trying to comfort you, the same person who seemed broken and exhausted when he brought you here.

"Forgive me… you went to the trouble of bringing me to your home because of my actions. This is not appropriate behavior for a girl like me. I apologize profusely for invading your residence like this," you said, lowering your hands to your lap and bowing your head in a formal gesture of apology, even while lying in bed.

Nomura noticed that you referred to yourself merely as a girl, not as a lady, which would have been more appropriate. He understood that what happened yesterday had deeply wounded you, so much so that you began to see yourself as inferior, no longer worthy of being called a lady.

His free hand clenched into a fist as he thought about the castle and the ball from last night. He knew who was responsible for this, and he couldn't help but feel anger. At that moment, all he wanted was to drive a sword through the heart of the crown prince, the first prince, and especially his former best friend.

"Please do not apologize, miss. The events of last night were not your fault, and bringing you to my residence was my decision. I had every right to do so, especially when I saw you in such a vulnerable state," he said in a sweet and gentle tone. You turned your head to look at him, observing those kind eyes that looked at you as they had last night. But just making that movement caused your head to throb again, and you placed a hand on your head, wincing in pain. This made him place his hands on your back, gently guiding you to lie down on the bed.

"Please, miss, you are not in the best condition. Lie down and rest. I will accept nothing but your rest," he insisted. With your eyes squeezed shut from the pain, you allowed yourself to lie back down, sighing as you felt his touch slowly fade away.

Nomura watched as you complied, stepping back slowly. He looked at you with sadness before leaving the room. As he walked down the corridor towards his office, he couldn't help but look at the floor, feeling nothing but anger. Calmly, he entered his office and closed the door behind him. His teeth clenched in fury, and only one thought filled his mind: "I want to kill him!" Finally, he sighed, running his hands through his hair before sitting in his chair and looking up at the ceiling.

"Even after countless times, or timelines, you remain the same Prince Luka."

"Miss? Your tea." An maid entered the room with a cart carrying a teapot and a white porcelain cup. She sat down on the bed, and you were beginning to feel a bit better. Before you could say anything, the maid delicately placed a tray on your lap and set the cup on it.

You pondered for a moment. You couldn't stay here forever, even if your parents had disowned you. Eventually, you would have to return home just to gather your belongings, assuming your country in this game had indeed expelled you. If so, you needed to plan where to stay, especially since the Diamond Wars were looming.

"But what stage of the game are we in now? I mean, why should I worry? She's the protagonist and a princess, not me. She can handle things on her own," you thought to yourself as you glanced down at your lap. Your head still ached, but it was less intense compared to when you first arrived at the lord's house.

"Miss?" the maid's voice called out, and you lifted your head to look at her. She was pointing to the cup of tea. "Your tea, if you don't drink it, it will get cold." You turned your head, picked up the cup, and murmured a thank you before taking a sip. Lowering the cup, you continued to stare down, then glanced back at your lap.

"If I may ask, do you know of a good area where there might be houses? Preferably in the countryside," you asked calmly, surprising the maid with the sudden question.

"With all due respect, ma'am, why do you ask?"

"I need to find a place before I'm kicked out of home all because the protagonist is a little princess with her harem on her side, not to mention they humiliated me and literally labeled me a liar in front of high-status people and people from other regions," you thought of saying, but bit your tongue and shook your head. "Forget about what I asked," you said, looking down at the empty cup in your hands.

A few minutes of silence passed before the maid carefully took the cup and bowed respectfully before leaving with the cart.

"It's what she said," the maid recounted the situation to the man in front of her, who could only look thoughtfully out the window. "Poor Lady," Nomura thought, watching from the window as the carriage took you back to your home.

"I apologize, my lord, but do you think Lady might be considering moving away?" The thought of you being away from him was making him nervous.

"I need you to deliver a letter for me…"

pt1

"I'll possibly do Part 3."

@aiimee9 @chlov @uhkaey @notleclerc @taylorazureeee @sassykitkat22 @zuumaa @mononlogue @party-9 @endaculi @heartless-tate @mel-vaz @poptrim @kitty-chan33 @surprisemodafakas @reni502 @slowlysweetnightmare @hotnbloodied @yandereoverlord @mel-star636 @aphrodit333 @hotvinimon  @cupidsgift @bien-bonjour14 @l0v3rrl @heraxochi @yamekocatt @lovorette @acenby-weirdo @kisalovesoobin @wutap @ron000 @lazydelusionsimp @kthehoeforfictionalmen @forbidden-sunlight @bubbles2416 @rosegracewood09 @b2mmyy

@julietdelamare @snowlotr @kitkatmochi @happydeertraveler @lem-hhn @crazytacokoala @mitzukichan18 @hey-im-bored504 @resident-cryptid @thefbiiswatching @beardedblizzardexpert @mymemd @smilefortae @emperatris-rinaka

@pinkrose1422

[call-memissbrightside]

All I can think about is Katsuki dating someone with a baby—

His friends think it’s a bit odd since he’s in his early thirties and could still mess around before settling down but he’s not having it

You’re a bit nervous to tell him that you had a kid after a few dates, and you think he’s never going to hit you up again when he doesn’t really respond when you tell him, he just drops you off at your place with a emotionless look on his face.

You cry to yourself that night as you put your little girl to bed, and the two year old knows something’s wrong because she’s fussy through the whole night routine. You really liked Bakugou, he made you laugh and respect you but if he can’t accept your daughter than it's not going to work out.

Then the next morning he texts you that he got tickets for three to the local aquarium for the day. You call him, confused.

“That way we can take your daughter?” He’s confused by your question. “Why? Is she too little for the aquarium?”

You’re nervous as hell for him meeting Mai for the first time, but Katsuki is taken back at how your daughter looks just like you. She's adorable, and his stomach flipped taking in how you looked so beautiful in your jeans and simple shirt.

"Hi Mai, I'm Katsuki," He kneels down to the four year old's height but he's so big and the little girl immedietly burst into tears and hides behind your legs.

"Oh honey, it's okay," You coo at her, picking her up. Mai isn't convinced and hides away from Katsuki.

"I'm sorry, she'll warm up," You explain, but you weren't too sure. Mai had a shy personality, and was very attatched to you. You just hoped that Bakugou would be patient with her.

Mai started shedding her shy personality once you arrived at the aquarium.

"Mom, fish!" She yelled in excitement, tugging on your hand to get you to walk faster. Katsuki stands back and just watches you interact with your daughter. He knew he liked you, but seeing you be a mom did something to him and he imagined this being his life forever.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked when you noticed Katsuki seemed distracted.

He opens his mouth to answer but Mai interupts him when she squeals, "Mommy penguins!"

Katsuki was closer to her, and the little girl grabs his hand and drags him through to the penguin exhibit. Bakugou is taken aback, but quickly pushes back his fear of scaring her and kneels down to look at the penguins swimming as Mai squeals in excitement. She can’t pronounce his name correctly, so Mai just addresses him as ‘Suki which warms his heart.

It’s like a switch got flipped and Mai wouldn’t let go of Katsuki’s hand for the remainder of the tour through the aquarium. You stand back, smiling and snapping pictures, just watching as Bakugou showed a much softer side to him.

The day ended with Katsuki buying Mai the biggest stuffed penguin the aquarium store had, and the little girl could barely hold onto it as she fell asleep in her stroller.

“You didn’t have to get her that,” You said, feeling overwhelmed by his gesture.

Bakugou feels a string of anxiety pull in his stomach, wondering now if his actions were seemed as inappropriate.

“I-,” He tries to be truthful, “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. Mai just seemed so happy and I wanted to get her something to remember me by.”

That melts your heart, and you kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for being so sweet to my baby.”

Katsuki is blushing so hard, his ears are ringing as he helps you by packing down the stroller and putting it in the trunk while you tuck Mai into her car seat. The little girl was out, but still hugging her penguin.

Katsuki keeps the radio low as to not wake Mai as he drives you two home, holding your hand and already planning the next outing.

[lymtw]

Thinking of an argument with Toji that leaves you mute by choice towards him. He still talks to you and asks you questions, and while you don't turn away from him, you don't respond to him either. He ends up having to figure out whatever he needs on his own because after a minute or so you huff and walk away from the conversation.

"Mama," he calls from the bedroom, rummaging through his clothing drawers. "Have you seen my gym shorts?"

If he was able to get a word out of you, he would know that you washed them for him. Though you were still sizzling with anger towards him, you pulled them out of the dryer and walked them over to the room. He could hear your little footsteps as you approached the room, and when he turned to look at you, he noticed you were holding his shorts in your hand.

Your eyes were vacant towards him. You didn't want them to be because it sucks when you can't look at him with the endless amount of love you have in store for him. It's still there, but it's being masked by a poker face.

You toss the shorts onto the bed and leave. Toji sighs, irked by the fact that it's actually starting to sting now. Your disregard for him because you're ruled by your emotions and he lets things go too easily because he can't hold a grudge towards you, even if he feels you're in the wrong.

Toji never knew how much he depended on your voice until you wouldn't let him hear it. He depends on you to tell him where things are because without you they would be scattered all over the place. He doesn't know your method of organization, but somehow when he needs something and looks to you in order to find it, you pull it out from right under his nose. He depends on you to tell him he's doing a good job, and to tell him you love him, and just reassure him in general. It makes him feel good to know that someone thinks he's good enough, but recently the one person who feeds him affection like it's as important as food and water, has left him to starve. You haven't said a word to him in almost two days, and he feels like he's starting to go crazy. The sound of his own voice is driving him insane. It's gotten so bad that he had to make a mental note of how he's going to get you back that same night.

Toji leaves for the gym and texts you during his time there. He includes some images because it's now an unspoken rule that he always has to send you gym pics.

[ Attachment: 3 Images]

... 😳🤐

Yeah, I know you like those. I'll be home soon.

You take the time to doll yourself up while he's still out. It's for him, but you won't tell him that until you come back from your "night out". Really, you're just gonna go get dinner for both of you from his favorite little restaurant. You just want to see how far he's willing to let this go, because you're caving. You're ready to apologize even when you know he's not upset at all. You're ready to spoil him in order to make up for those severe feelings you held towards him. You're ready to hear about how stubborn and unbelievable you are for this little act you pulled.

You spray on some perfume and walk out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Toji walking through the door.

"Woof, where're you going, ma?" He asks, setting down his gym bag before absorbing everything you were gracing him with. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the very bare skin of the legs that come out from under your skirt. He can smell your perfume from where he stands, its elegant scent masking even the smell of his own potent sweat.

You didn't answer his question, and left him to wonder why you're all dressed up at seven o'clock at night. Was it a girl's night or were you openly showing him that you have options? Did he miss a message or a call from you?

You grabbed your wallet and scooted past him. You walked halfway down the corridor of your apartment building before realizing that maybe this was a bit much. You would make him worry over you going on a five minute walk to grab some food? All so you can show him you're mad? You cracked.

🥟🥡🍜.

Toji was staring at his screen, waiting for anything from you. The screen flashes like some sort of miracle and your message is seen by him. He chuckles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of your little emoticons.

You came back home as fast as possible, bags of food in hand as you patiently waited for the elevator to bring you up to your floor. You took your time walking through the corridor, this time, not knowing how you would react once you saw Toji or if you would immediately say something to him. You're ready to talk to him, you want to talk to him. You miss him, you love him, and you hate the passiveness you threw yourself into around him as an act of retaliation.

There you were, standing in front of the door, nervous beyond belief for what was behind it. You collected yourself and twisted the doorknob, ready to face anything that came to you.

Toji stood from the couch and walked over to you to take the bags from your hands. The smell of his body wash wafted into your nose. There was an imaginary white flag hanging out of your pocket, and it was about to fall out to signal your surrender to Toji.

He pecks your cheek and watches in real time as color floods into your face. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen—you standing there so rigidly afterwards. He gives you a soft smile and resists the urge to coo at you for being so cute. Instead, he heads to the table to put the bags of food down.

You shut the door, and within a split second, Toji was in front of you again. "Ma," he says, sounding a little more desperate than he thought he would. "Say something." You stand there like a statue—unmoving, but unlike a statue, you are easily moveable. Especially, by Toji. "Anything, mama, please." He crouches down at your feet, his warm hands resting on the backs of your knees and his cheek resting on one of your thighs. This position made it look like you were being worshipped by him, and anyone who ever saw him do this would know that it was true, because he worshipped everything about you. From the top of your head, to the ground your feet stood on.

"Don't you miss having my hands on you?" They glide up and down the backs of your thighs. He looks up at your stunned expression. You won't look down at him, so he gets to see the way you swallow the words dying to leave your mouth, and the slight widening of your eyes as he lets his hands roam your lower body. "I know I do. I've been in hell these past couple days." He presses a soft kiss to your knee, then one more on your thigh. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you're selfish, baby. Maybe i'm just a greedy asshole," he says, rekindling the subject of what led to your silence towards him. His hand maneuvers around your leg so that his palm is on your thigh, making its way up towards the inner part of it. "But, I know something," his lips trail further up your thigh, softly kissing your skin. "I'm greedy about you. That can't and won't be changed, even when we argue like idiots."

You put your hand on his head as he starts kissing up your inner thighs, making his way even further up beneath your skirt.

"Come on, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his lips meeting the front of your underwear. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me you hate that my filthy paws are on you, right now."

Your legs tremble at the lightness of his touch, and you internally cringe at how sensitive you've always been for him.

"Toji..." you gasp. You feel his warm tongue flatten between your legs, a slow upwards drag of the muscle makes your thighs quiver before him. You whimper at the damp warmth his saliva leaves on your panties. "Fuck..." you moan, breathily. "Don't stop. Stay there, please."

The first word you reintroduced yourself with being a moaned out rendition of his name was heaven reaching down to pat him on the back for knowing exactly what to do to get you to talk again.

"Open wider for me, baby. Let me see," Toji says, your skirt still veiled over his head. You take a step back so that your back is against the door and widen your stance a little more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and you shudder when his tongue returns to slide through your clothed folds. He doesn't even need to produce that much saliva to drench the fabric of your underwear because you've done that for him already with your leaking arousal.

You shut your eyes and rest your head against the door as Toji continues his act of filth between your thighs. You can hear him panting below you, your taste pleasantly coating his tongue every time he sucks on the garment that clings to you.

You cry out his name with sharp breaths following, your fingers tangling into his locks, gripping and tugging as his lips catch onto your cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you grit out, whimpering at the contrast between his mouth and his hands. His hands offer a gentle massage to your thighs, softly kneading the plush between his fingers. His mouth moves purposefully because he knows exactly what it takes to make you fall apart with it. He coats his tongue with your essence every time he laps at the wet patch on your underwear, sticky webs of arousal connecting him to you.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your cunt throbbing with every brush of his tongue. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck, i'm gonna cum..." you whine.

Toji pushes your underwear to the side, and glides his tongue through your generously slicked folds once and you're instantly arching your back off the door, squirming in his hold and moaning carelessly as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. He desperately chases the sound of your pleasure-ridden voice, wanting to hear the way it raises in pitch when he strokes you just right. He doesn't want it to stop, it's been too long. Two days way too long. You tug at his hair with one hand, dragging the nails of your other hand down the door. You breathe heavily as Toji manipulates your pleasure until your thighs are trembling.

Toji pulls away and lifts your skirt off his head. He lowers your leg back down and stands up from his crouched position. He faces you with glossy lips that shine with all the juices he collected from you, some of it drooling down his chin to give him an even more messy appearance. He presses his lips to yours, making slow movements to allow you to realize what is happening while your eyes are closed. You can taste yourself on his lips as you catch the rhythm.

There's a loud smack in the last kiss before he releases you, a feral look in his green eyes as he dotes on your blissed out appearance. You look too pure for someone who's just experienced something so sinful. "Hey, look at me," he coos, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Look at me," he repeats, staring at you as you try to catch your breath with closed eyes.

You hum, rolling your eyes open to lazily stare back at him. Your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at him, but you liked how vigilant he was being. It made you crack a grin, a small gesture that had Toji's heart thudding a little quicker, now.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, mama." His eyes trail yours as they look away from his gaze. "If this is your reaction to my mouth, I don't even know what to expect for when I'm inside you."

You look down to see what's been poking your thigh for the past minute or so, and it's the monster in his pants, outlined for your eyes to quickly spot and everything.

"Come on," you say, reaching your hand out to him. He takes it and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.

Toji shuts the door and locks it to give the situation a deeper level of intimacy. There's no one there but the two of you and yet you feel even more secluded by the gesture.

He wasn't aggressive in the way he bared you for his eyes. He pulled you close to him by the waist, your body against his as he peeled your layers of clothes off.

"Stay," he says, when you take a step back. He takes that step towards you again, placing his hands on your hips, and snaking them around to your back to locate the zipper for your skirt. He exhales through his nose, lidded eyes watching the longing expression on your face closely as he pulls down the zipper and allows the article to fall on the floor. His fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he fully slides his hands beneath it, and raises it up your torso higher and higher. You put your arms up and allow him to slip it off your head.

He makes haste of getting his own clothes off, a sly smirk decorating his face when he sees you admiring him from where you sit on the end of the bed as you take off your bra and underwear. You're forced further up the bed by Toji as he inches closer and closer to you. You reach a dead end and welcome the suffocating warmth of his body as he cages you onto the bed.

"Don't do that to me again, mama," he murmurs, before leaning down to peck your lips. "Don't let me talk to myself for that long when you have such a pretty voice to respond with."

You laugh, pulling a small grin from him. "I didn't think you'd care, to be honest. I thought you'd tell me i'm being childish or ridiculous."

"Nah, princess. I thought I was gonna die."

You giggle, pulling him close again. "You're exaggerating."

"You wouldn't let me touch you. Not even when we went to bed, so it was like we were friends instead of lovers sleeping together. Especially with how far on your side you slept."

"Oh, baby," you coo, pressing multiple quick apologetic kisses to his lips. He chuckles at the affection, and his eyes close instinctively as your kisses become more widespread on his face. He missed this more than anything. "What can I do for your forgiveness, my love?"

"Just let me fuck you, ma. That's all. Give me my privilege to all of this, again." His hand slowly trails from your chest to your stomach, a touch you longed for dearly during those two days that you verbally ignored him.

"It's yours," you whisper to him. You peer up at him with your constellation eyes, silently begging him to realize how much you need him. "I'm yours, so show me the use you have for the privilege over my body, baby."

He leans down to kiss you, softly. He's desperate for you, but his lips don't falter their delicate synchrony because of it. He guides the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing up and down the slickness a couple times before slowly sinking into you. Your ability to tangle with Toji's lips slowly deteriorates, and your focus strays to the stretching happening lower down your body, so Toji picks up the slack and feeds you his kisses.

"Come on," he groans out. Not even he is immune to the rebirth of sex with you. You're warm and inviting, and you embrace the pain and comfort he offers every time he craves you or you crave him. This time is no exception. "Kiss me back, sweetheart. Give them all to me," he mutters, before attempting to connect his lips to yours again. You dig your heels into the mattress and your toes curl as you feel his girth continue to submerge inside you.

Toji cups your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together into a makeshift pout for him to kiss. He can hear your hummed little whimpers in response to him sheathing himself further into you. He was being gentle, because hurting you is a crime in his world.

"Fuck, I missed this, mama," he says, goosebumps rising on his torso as he drags himself out of you halfway and pushes himself back in again. "So warm..." he says over the sound of your pleasured moan. He sighs, a grunt following as he starts a careful rocking rhythm into you. "I could stay inside you forever."

"I could keep you here forever," you rephrase, gazing up at him with those eyes he unequivocally loves. They've reverted back to the default loving expression you hold for him, the vacancy of your previous gaze now filled with love, excitement, lust, and overall enchantment. It's a beautiful thing to see your hurricanes subside.

He leans down to kiss you again, distributing the kisses on your face and leading them towards your neck. You could feel his abs dragging up and down your stomach with every roll of his hips against yours.

"Mmm... Toji," you moan, bringing your hands to his back. One of them moves up to the nape of his neck, threading through the dampened locks of his hair, the other traces his spine to distract you from how badly you want to dig your nails into him.

"I know," he coos, kissing the spot beneath your ear. "I know, doll. It's always this good with you."

You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding the more sensitive area within you. "Right there, right there... Oh..." you moan out, inevitably digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Toji directs his kisses back up your neck and towards your face again so he can see the honest expression on it. You're lost in pleasure, vibrating as another orgasm rushes through you.

"Fuck, mama.. let me-" he groans, outwardly losing it at the overflow of your juices. "Let me see those pretty eyes," he pants, gripping your waist a little more harshly as he feels his cock on the brink of expelling into you. "Need you to watch me," he says, taking in the way your lips part to release your sounds of utter satisfaction. Your eyes flutter open to center on his greedy eyes. You mirror his lustful, lidded gaze, the look enough to make him spill inside you, making your cunt even sloppier. "You're gorgeous, ma," he says, mindlessly, as he fucks into you with a little more fervor. "Fucking stunning," he mutters through pants, to which you respond with a sly smirk. The gesture lured a groan out of him and made his cock twitch as he finished releasing into you.

You giggle when he stills his hips. Your combined attempts to regulate your breathing fills the silence that follows. "What're you laughing at?" He asks, massaging your hip with his thumb.

"You tell me that all the time like you're obsessed with me or something."

"And if I am?" he says with a voice so deep you have to blink to see that it's still your gentle giant of a man. "Is it too much for you? Can you handle it? Am I suffocating you, baby?" he purrs, cupping your cheeks while leaning in close to emphasize his points. All it does is allow you to closely admire how handsome he is and really think about what's happening in this moment. This green-eyed, raven-haired man, with the prettiest pointed nose and the most attractive scarred lips, is bedding you, and doing it so well.

"Never. Come closer and bite," you murmur.

He takes your lips in his again, a little more aggressive than before. You asked him to bite, and that's exactly what he's doing. The make out has him rocking both of you a little faster, working you towards yet another orgasm. You nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue over it when hisses. You hum out a little giggle, and moan into his mouth when he jolts into you.

"God, i'll bust again if you keep doing that. I'm serious, mama" he groans, swiping his tongue over his stinging bottom lip. You think he's being dramatic so when he leans down to kiss you again, you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. You gasp, releasing his lip and stare at him with wide eyes as his excessive warmth spurts into your cunt, filling it to the brim and beyond, to the point of leakage.

"F-Fuck... you're terrible," he groans, shuddering with tense abdominal muscles as he lures the entirety of his orgasm out. "Cum," he says, panting as he picks up the pace of his rutting to get you to follow his orgasm. "I can feel you clenching around me like hell. I know you want to," he says, reaching a hand between you and him to stimulate your clit.

Your already labored breathing picks up and your heart is pounding in your ears aggressively as you roll your hips back against his. You whimper as you feel your peak get closer and closer, a cried out and breathy "fuck!" leaving you when it arrives, followed by high pitched moans that make Toji's heart race. You arched your back off the mattress as you reached the zenith of your orgasm with the help of Toji's finger rapidly rubbing your clit while he maintained his satisfying pace inside you.

You whimper, slapping a hand onto Toji's wrist to stop his movements on you. He smirks at the sight of your trembling thighs, your heaving chest, and the sound of your dazed hums. You always were such a delicate thing. So fragile that even with just enough of his attention, he could break you.

"Tired yet?" He asks, admiring your relaxed facial features. You nod with your eyes closed, your lips parted to release little puffs of air. "Thought you'd be. I'll go grab some towels for us to shower." He pulls out of you, taking a moment to admire your collaborative masterpiece.

"Baby..." you whine, sitting up when you feel his weight lift off the bed. "I can't get up." You dramatically let yourself fall back on the bed and stick your tongue out to portray your exhaustion.

"Get up, you faker. That's all you have to do and i'll take care of the rest."

"Too tired to wash myself right now..." you say, waking up for a second before closing your eyes again. Toji can see the sly grin on your face and the little shake of your stomach as you stifle your giggles.

"Guess you're too tired to eat, too, huh? You know i've got a huge appetite, and I could eat all that food you brought by myself."

"You wouldn't," you say, abruptly sitting up on the bed and squinting at him. "There's enough to feed three people in those bags."

"I've got the stomach of three people in one, so you better catch up before you're left with my seconds."

You sigh, too tired to move, but you get up anyway and trail behind Toji. "Baby, can you pleeease clean me up? I'm beat."

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he now walks behind you. "Sure, but don't complain when I take longer on certain areas."

[sincerelyneo]

could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐

mad at you | l.mk

“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”

💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we

❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.

❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex

❯ words: 4.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.

an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.

The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 

But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 

You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.

So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 

He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 

He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 

The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.

“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”

You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 

“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”

You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”

"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."

Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 

“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”

“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”

“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”

You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.

“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 

“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”

“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 

Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”

You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 

“Oh, so you want to break up?”

He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”

The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 

Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.

Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.

“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 

Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 

He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.

After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 

It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.

Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 

As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 

You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.

The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.

However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  

You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”

Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.

His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 

"I thought you left..."

Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.

“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 

You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 

He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”

His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 

"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."

"No—"

He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."

Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.

"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."

"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"

Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"

His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.

"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."

You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”

You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.

Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.

His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.

You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.

He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.

“‘s okay,” you whimper. 

Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.

He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 

He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 

And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”

You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 

“Mark…” 

“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 

You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.

And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.

As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 

He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 

Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 

The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.

You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 

You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 

Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.

Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.

And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 

You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 

So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...

“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”

You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.

“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”

And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 

And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 

The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 

You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 

You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.

"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.

"I’m sorry," you say softly.

You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."

[misstycloud]

What about a yandere playboy x revenge-driven reader?

Yandere! Playboy is the guy on campus. How can he not be? He has everything a person could ever want. He is wealthy, handsome and has many friends. Best of all qualities; he’s great in bed.

Yandere! Playboy has been hitting beds for years now. He is young and has a right to live life to the fullest, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself while he still can? His parents doesn’t approve of this behaviour but what can they do to stop him? Besides, he’s already told his father that he’ll find someone to settle down with when he’s older and fit to take over the company. He doesn’t want to lose the privileged life he has so it’s in his best favour to just do what his dad tells him to and find someone to marry later.

It wouldn’t reflect well on the company if its leader is a scandalous, immature playboy after all.

Yandere! Playboy who has been with most of the people on campus. The only exception are the ones he and his friends consider ‘too ugly’ or ‘just not up to standards’- which can be due to anything. It’s basically become a game by this point; who in the friend group can be the college’s number one player.

Yandere! Playboy who almost let his friend surpass him in that department. It was a close call. Good luck he found a cute girl in time so he could drive up his score just above his friend’s. He noticed her at a party. He hadn’t seen her around before so he guessed she was new. The girl looked very out-of-place, standing in a corner while everyone else were letting loose. Did she come alone? Whatever, it didn’t matter. Quickly he snatched her up. She definitely wasn’t the best he’s had, nowhere near it in fact. She was an average fuck at best. It was only after he’d brought her home and fucked her until she cried, that he realised his mistake. After the deed was done she was awfully clingy. She wrapped her arms around him and tried to nuzzle his neck, much to his dismay.

Yandere! Playboy hastily pushed her off and asked her what she thought she was doing. Confused, she responded that she just wanted to cuddle since what they did was so special. Oh no, he thought. She was one of those girls who thought hooking up once meant ‘relationship’. How could he be so stupid? He knew better than to take ‘sweet’ girls with him, they always ended up deluding themselves they were a couple. Sternly, he told her to get out. This made her confused and she wondered if she’d done something wrong.

“Yes, you’ve done something wrong.”

“What was it? Please tell me.” She whispered in a small voice.

He sneered at her. “You think we’re a couple now or some shit. Sorry to burst your bubble but we’re not together.”

The girl bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. “We’re…not? Then why would you-“

“-don’t think you’re special. I just didn’t want my pal’s fuck-score to get higher than mine and you were the first decent thing I could find.”

Afterward he kicked her out. He didn’t give a shit that she was crying. Her feelings didn’t matter to him. No one’s feelings mattered to him besides his own. It was her own fault for getting her hopes up. She was cute, don’t get him wrong. But she seemed way too much of a goody two-shoes for him.

Yandere! Playboy who went about life normally after that. Occasionally he did see his latest lay around campus but she never approached him, instead she chose to send him a sad glance now and then. Pathetic.

Yandere! Playboy had been so caught up with a bunch of school work, he swore the professors had it out for him. After all that tediousness he deserved a break. He needed to relax and there was only one way to do that correctly. Unfortunately his regular ‘buddies’ were unavaliable, he’ll have to find someone else tonight.

Yandere! Playboy who searched the room filled with dancing, intoxicated people. The constantly colour-switching lights made him dizzy. No matter how much he searched he could not see anyone who’d caught his interest. He was about to give up when someone finally got his attention. It was you. Gosh you were just gorgeous. Wow, he thought. He hadn’t seen anyone like you before. Luckily you appeared to notice him too. He seductivle licked his lips while staring into your eyes and was happy when you showed equal interest.

Yandere! Playboy who didn’t waste a minute and went right up to you. You were been hotter up close. This was going to be fun, he thought as he led you upstairs.

Yandere! Playboy was in shock. What the hell just happened? The morning light shone directly in his face but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. After he’d brought you to his room for what he’d imagined to be a usual fun night, he’d been fully surprised. You were nothing short of amazing. He couldn’t recall a moment when he’d ever felt so good. Usually he was the one to lead but you took over as if for was the most natural thing in the world. Never in his life had he been so thoroughly explored. The bruises on his body still ached when he moved.

He needed more.

Yandere! Playboy became obsessed afterwards. He had to see you again. All those years of sleeping around could never amount to the pleasure he felt that night with you and he desperately wanted to feel it again. Sadly, it was like you vanished. Did you not go to the same college? He asked around but no one knew you. Strange, he thought. Weeks passed and there was still no sign of you. He was incredibly pent up now. He had been focused on finding you that he hadn’t taken anyone home since. His friends thought he was acting way to obsessed with his random person and needed to calm down. Perhaps if he spent time with someone he’d cool off. They see him up to meet one of his regular ‘buddies’ who was more than happy to see him again.

Yandere! Playboy tried to recreate the experience with them but it didn’t work. They were all clumsy and didn’t know how to make anything feel good. He couldn’t even finish that time. Frustrated, he threw them out and told them he wanted to be alone. Why wasn’t it working? What went wrong? And why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about you? It made him want to tear his hair out.

While he was deeply grumbling about his newfound problem, he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He shouted at the person to leave him alone but the knocking didn’t stop. He ripped the door open and was prepared to scream at the other person when his eyes widened in surprise. He was speechless.

There in the doorway stood you. You gave him a wicked smile, “Can I come in?”

Yandere! Playboy practically became your dog after that. He knows your name now, (Y/n). He shudders just thinking about it. Turns out you do go to another college and you’re not the most social person which explains why no one had heard of you. Not only are you fantastic on the outside, he finds you to be a wonderful person too. The more you’ve hung out, the more he’s gotten to know about you. He currently knows these five things: you always have a way to make him laugh, you share many hobbies(some which he can’t talk about even with his closest friends), you value his opinion, never talk down to him, and he absolutely loves you.

Yandere! Playboy who immediately cuts off his previous hook ups. You’re the only one for him. There isn’t a soul out there who can be your match. All of his friends have become so annoying. All they say is about how much he’s changed and it’s crazy how he’s doing a complete 180 for one single person. He ignores them. If they can’t see how perfect you are then that’s their loss, and he can’t be friends with them anymore. The only ones happy about this change are his parents.

He recalls his father saying, “So you’ve finally decided to be a real man and stop with your foolishness.”

“Yes. I have found my one and only love, the person I’m going to marry.”

His father nodded. Yandere! Playboy smiled. He had all intention to follow up with his statement. He loved you and based of your reactions around him, he’d say you loved him too.

Yandere! Playboy who was all giddy as he waited for you at the restaurant you’d decided to meet in. You had been hanging out for months now and he thought it was time to ask you to be his official partner(future spouse). It was a perfect setting. He has brought a bouquet of flowers and put on nice clothes. The ambiance was just right.

He waited.

You weren’t there yet, but sometimes you ran a little late.

He waited some more.

You still weren’t there. That’s all right! He’ll sit there until you arrive.

He sat in his chair long enough to see the staff send him pitiful looks. Where were you? It had been far too long for you to simply be ‘running a little late’. Did you get into an accident? He prayed nothing had happened to you. Quickly he pulled out his phone and sent you a text. Or well, he tried to.

‘Unable to send message’

What? He didn’t understand. Why wasn’t his text getting through? Did you…block him? No that wasn’t possible. There was no reason you would do that. You loved him. He loved you. You wouldn’t block him. All of his attempts to contact you went into the garbage. When he called; direct to voicemail. He tried looking for you, although that proved to be a lot harder than he thought. It was then he realised he had no idea where you lived. You were always at his place and he never questioned it. He went to your college and asked if anyone had seen you but they all said they didn’t know anyone by the name of (Y/n) who went there. Did you lie about where you went to school?

Yandere! Playboy who became depressed. He couldn’t find you anywhere. You had vanished, just like before. Except this time you never came back. His head was filled with questions. Where were you? Are you safe? Why did you leave him? Didn’t you love him too? He fell into despair. His parents wanted to help him and so did the friends he abandoned for you (they came back, he couldn’t understand why), but nothing they did helped. They weren’t you.

Please come back to him, he needs you.

————

A/n: for clarification, the girl in the beginning is reader’s friend.