#i wanted 2 watch it in the living room earlier and had 2 stop bc was literally thinking like omg . hes just a kid trying to save his mom .

[minasweep]

btw Percy Jackson as a franchise having differences in every retelling is p much how actual myths have so many different variations depending on who's reciting it also how despite it all its the same story with the same ending

[spookitapes]

faking an orgasm w/ chuckle sandwich (100 followers special)

summary | rip that pussy fr. you fake an orgasm and must pay the prices for ur actions bro. praying ur coochie survives tbh...

pairing |  jschlatt x fem!reader , ted nivision x fem!reader, charlie slimecicle x fem!reader

warnings/cw | smut, overstimulation, edging, doggy style, fingering, rough sex, humiliation, degradation, fucking while on ft, bathroom sex, spanking, mean!ted, sucking balls bc I'm nasty, male masturbation, panties used as binds, orgasm denial, etc.

word count | 4k

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

a/n: sorry this is late guys i had some family emergencies !! buuut it's finally here !! i was gonna make it longer, but ill make up for it with more soon :))) hope you ennjooyyy !! (AND AGAIN THANK YOU FOR 100 AHHHH)

not proofread, sorry for any mistakes !!

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────

↳˗ˏˋ jschlatt ˊˎ˗ ↴

the clock on the living room shelf reads 3:15am. you can barely make it out from your current position; face smushed into the couch cushions with your ass in the air. schlatt's got a hand on your back, forcing the arch deeper as he watches himself disappear into your pussy.

"please go f-faster !"

"only after you cum for me, doll..you know the deal."

there's a hint of a smile in his tone, and it pisses you off. he's been gone for 3 1/2 weeks and this is how he treats you when he gets back? you always make fun of him for being impatient...but now he's proving you wrong in the cruelest of ways. he surprised you a week earlier than planned, snuck up on you while you took your morning shower. you were so lost in your own world you didn't notice the door reopening & closing, or the sound of his clothes hitting the floor..you definitely didn't notice the sound of the shower door, because it made your heart fall out of your ass when you felt arms wrap around your naked waist.

"it's just me, sweetheart," rung out in that deep ny accent you're become accustomed to.

you turned around in his arms, swatting attacks on his chest. your smile shining even as you tried to hold up the annoyed front. he looked at you with so much love and admiration it almost made you feel bad as you went to scold him, "what the hell, jay! you scar-"

but he cut you off with a passionate kiss. weeks worth of missing you all wrapped up into it. from the way he traced figure 8's on your hip, to the other hand that left to cradle your face..you could feel it all pouring out of him. but the second your arms wrapped around his neck to deepen it, he pulled away with that signature 'up to no good' smirk of his plastered on that mother fucking face.

"come on, babe. we gotta hurry so you can open your early gifts."

so he kissed your forehead and continued the shower like normal..he let you wash his hair like always and even let you do your skin routine on him. he made breakfast with you while wearing matching face masks, and after you ate he made you open the gifts he got you while away...well most of them.

and when you tried to show him your thanks in the form of getting on your knees...he stopped you. "I wasn't suppose to be back for a whole other week," that stupid ass smirk returned to his face. "so you can be good girl and wait...can't ya, honey? you can prove to me you deserve your last gift, right?"

the mention of another gift caught you off guard, you tilted your head at him from between his legs with confusion written all over your face.

"if it's not your cock I don't want it," comes out with a pout trailing on your lips.

a hand grabbed you, cheeks smushed together as he dragged your faces together. "trust me when I tell you I won't touch you for a whole goddamn month if you don't listen, understood? you think a week is bad, doll? let's try 4."

you whined out a pitiful noise before nodding in agreement. the hand quickly moved down to your throat. "don't push your luck, y/n. now..I said are.we.understood?" he let his grip tighten around your throat after each word, that fuzzy feeling clouding your head.

"y-yeah jay, I understand!"

.........

you made it all of 3 days into the 7 before you caved..coming to him dressed in nothing but the pretty chiffon slip he gifted you from his trip, begging for a truce. so he smiled at you and said he'd fuck you how you like...all you had to do is let him have his way with you for 4 orgasms. since you couldn't wait the remaining days like he wanted, he'd just make you wish you had...

the first orgasm was fast; he didn't waste any time sliding your see thru dress up your thighs to bury his tongue between them. he ate you like a man starved– messy and loud as he sucked every drop that left your sweet pussy.

the second wasn't too far behind the first. schlatt didn't give you time to recover as he shoved two of his fingers inside you before sucking on your clit again. your hands tangled in his hair, back arching and toes curling.

it took him all of 5 minutes to have you cumming again for the third time. adding another finger and grinding it into your spot while leaving open mouth kisses on your body. sucking on your neglected nipples thru the sheer fabric, his palm stimulating your clit just right.

and that brings us to now– the fourth and last before you get your reward, but schlatt's not playing fair. he's edging you at such a slow pace there are tears streaming down your face. it feels like he's been at it for hours. slowly slipping in and out of your pussy, pulling out and giving you a pussy job when he feels you're too close.

you're frustrations are at an all time high...so you do something you've never thought about with schlatt. you start breathing harder, thrashing around a little, and you put on your best performance...so full of yourself and so confident he won't notice.

as soon as your done, you're feigning exhaustion as you lower your hips down to the soft texture of the couch. schlatt leans his body down onto yours, his chest against your back. a hand comes up to run through your hair, and you let yourself lean into its comfort.

until it turns into his fingers digging into your scalp and pulling your head back so he's right against your ear, "you know the funniest thing just happened, honey. you made all that racket, but I didn't feel my pussy tighten up like she does when she cums."

your apology shortly dies on your tongue, because schlatt's pulling out of you and landing spanks to your pussy in an instant. he flips you over, and with a hand tightly on your throat he's bullying his cock back into you. he isn't holding back this time though— ohhhh no. you wanna spoil his fun ? you wanna be a brat ? fine he's just gonna fuck you till your pussy can't cream on him anymore.

"funny to think you're always calling me the impatient one, but now you're the one that can't wait 4 more days to get this pussy played with, huh angel?"

when the last load of jonny’s cum is bullied into your cunt the sun rise is shining in thru the windows, basking you both in a warm amber glow. you both find comfort in the cosy ambiance that settles around you.

and you're both panting, trying to catch your breaths from the pipe he just laid when a sinister smirk crosses your face, "soooooo…can I have my gift now?"

schlatt let's out an airy laugh before he lands a playful slap to your ass, pulling you closer to him before leaving a kiss to your forehead.

"absolutely not. you're waiting the 4 damn days, and I don't wanna hear no lip about it neither."

“buuuut baaaaabbbbyyy i- oOOOOUUUUCCHHHH !!”

you’re grabbing at your forehead and kicking your legs out defensively towards your boyfriend because of the flick he just gave you. he’s obviously finding it amusing, rolling away from your line of reach while tears fill his eyes from laughing so hard.

“goddamn you got a thick ass cranium, babe! my fucking finger hurts so bad!”

(bonus)

unlike you, he actually holds out until the last day. schlatt's super excited though, considering the importance of the date. he couldn't sleep at all the night before, so he wakes you up with breakfast in bed..a box on the tray with a necklace inside.

"happy anniversary, doll. now you'll have a piece of me even when I'm away."

↳˗ˏˋ ted ˊˎ˗ ↴

when ted came up behind you as you did you’re makeup, the last thing you expected was to be bent over the bathroom counter taking back shots. you both needed to be heading out the door 5 minutes ago, but your boyfriend got too distracted by your costume. so now he’s balls deep fully dressed as austin powers while he has your top pulled down so he can see your tits bouncing.

“we-we’re gonna be l-laaaaate!” you’re whining while making eye contact with him thru the mirror.

you're trying so hard to not mess up your makeup, only having had your lips left to do...but now your wig’s not set, your outfits not ready anymore, and you're gonna have to cover up the hickeys he’s leaving on your neck. to say you’re stressed out would be an understatement.

“baby, you know schlatt doesn’t start anything on time. i bet no one’s even there yet, okay ? now stop worrying that pretty little head and let me make you feel good.”

as if on cue there’s a ding from your phone, a message from the big man himself asking when you think you two will be arriving since you’re bringing a good amount of the liquor.

“ignore him,” it comes out gruff as he flips your phone over so the screens no longer showing.

"b-but i still have to fin-finish getting ready!"

"and you will," the hand gripping the back of your neck forces you to look at your own reflection, "...but not until we're done, princess. now look at how pretty you are and take this dick."

your phone is vibrating now, ringing so loud it makes you jump at first. you already know it's schlatt and in that moment you start debating on the worst best? decision you've ever made. you go back and forth but when the sound of the phone dissipates followed by another text...you make up your mind. so without missing a beat, you start scrunching up your face, pushing your ass back against his thrusts, and faking the best moans you can produce. ted stops immediately, a confusing look adorning his face. he pulls out and you can feel him staring into your soul before you even rise your eyes to meet his gaze.

"....what...was that, y/n?"

"w-what do you mean? i cam dumbie," you smile up at him thru the reflection, "now let me finish getting ready, and ill suck you off while you drive."

ted's jaw drops at that, a scoff leaving his body as he shakes his head in disbelief. he's laughing soon enough, laughing so hard he falls forward to clutch his stomach.

"i know you're not calling that half-assed, theater kid performance an orgasm!"

your cheeks go red as you look away in the mirror; you can feel him staring into your soul without even looking up to meet his gaze.

“look at me, baby.”

but you don’t..you’re too shy now that he knows the truth.

“y/n.”

he’s turning you around now, but your eyes are trained on they bathroom tiles below you. refusing to meet his eyes as he calls your name again. next thing you know a hand is lightly gripping your chin to tilt it up towards him.

“just look at me, love. swear i’m not mad.”

so you take a deep breath before looking up, pouty lips and puppy dog eyes in full affect.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“like what ?”

“like that.”

you furrow your brows and lightly slap him on the chest before attempting to turn back around. but ted’s arms are wrapping around you, your naked chest pressed to his clothed one. he notices your nipples are sensitive as you shiver from the contact as they brush against his costume. at this he picks you up to set you on the counter.

“i think i need to teach you a lesson, baby.”

you whine at this, voice annoyed as you once again try to tell him you need to get ready. but ted’s spanking your inner thigh to get you to shut up, his voice deepening for what he says next.

“what’s rule one, princess?”

your thighs clench around his hand even though it’d take him less than 5 seconds to overpower you and force them back open again. you curse as the involuntary needy tone leaves you and flows thru the air, sounding breathless as you go to answer him.

“…n-no..no back talking.”

“mhmm,” he’s pushing your legs apart and sliding his fingers closer to your center, “and what are you doing?”

a frown spreads across your face, “..i-i’m talking back..”

“so what should i do, y/n?” he’s rubbing circles on your clit at this point, making you feel all fuzzy.

“y-you should punish me, teddy.”

he’s groaning out at the nickname, fingers moving to push inside of you at a rough pace. you can hear the sound of ted’s fingers fucking you and his palm smacking your clit from how good he’s giving it to you. you start squirming around from the feeling, so overwhelmed since you didn’t expect to be this sensitive from not actually cumming earlier. but his free arm is wrapping around your hips to keep you still as he starts pressing kisses to your jaw, bound to add to the mess of marks he’s already left there. you’re sweating at this point, clawing at your boyfriend's shoulders as he moans into your neck.

“you're gonna cum on my fingers, cum on my dick, then we're leaving. you can fix your shit in the car since you're in such a hurry, princess."

you're moaning out at that, getting tighter at how rude his tone is. ted's been rough with you plenty of times. he's your dom for christ's sake, but...he's never been this mean.

(and you're mclovin it)

"aww you like that? felt you clenchin on me, baby," you can feel his smile against your skin.

you're nodding your head, too busy moaning to find words. the orgasm building in your stomach is coming faster than you realized.

'i-i'm gonna cuuuum!"

"go ahead, cum all over my fingers like the slut you are."

the orgasm rips thru your body at the permission, your noises being silenced as ted gives you a passionate kiss while he helps you ride it out. as soon as your body calms down he's pulling you off the counter,

"ohh shit, i got you love!"

he catches you on your shaky legs, kissing your nose before spinning you around. you're finally met with your reflection once again, ted's cock lining up with your entrance as one of his hands intertwines with yours. he slides in slowly, bottoming out with a groan. he stays still for a few minutes just to tease you..and it works. so you start pushing back against him, wiggling your ass for extra measure. he's landing a light slap to your ass with his free hand, a smirk on his lips as he starts slamming into you. but soon enough your phone's going off again, schlatt's face filling up your screen for the second time tonight.

"answer it."

"w-what?"

"answer it, princess. let's see how good your poker face is."

your free hand scrambles to grab your phone, bending over a little so ted's out of the frame and your tits aren't on screen.

"what the fuck is taking you bastards so long?" comes blaring through your speakers.

"s-sorry we're gonna head o-out soon!" you try to say it normally, but with the way ted's filling you up, it's nearly impossible.

schlatt's drowning in confusion, but then ted makes a mistake...he thursts in balls deep, a loud clap followed by your moans you can't hold back.

"t-teddy!" your brows are scrunching up and your toes curling as your boyfriend keeps the new pace, your grip loosening so schlatt gets an eye full of your tits bouncing with his best friend behind you. schlatt goes quiet, memorized by the sight on his phone.

"show big guy how you cream for me, love...and make sure he sees your pretty face when you cum."

your eyes roll into the back of your head when his fingers find your clit, cum so much it starts running down his dick and staining his pants. he fucks you through your orgasm, holding your overstimulated body up as he starts back up.

"almost done, baby. gonna cum in your cunt first though," he's bringing your still-conjoined hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of yours. he starts jackhammering his hips as your whines get louder. "w-want your cum, teddy! g-give it to me-- please baby. need it!"

ted slams into you one last time, stopping balls deep as you shiver from him pressing against your g spot juuuust right. he lets out a deep groan as he empties inside of you, pulling your head back to reconnect your lips as his hands wrap around your waist.

(bonus)

silence ensues as your breathing regulates, falling into the comfort of his embrace...until your ears pick up on a familiar accent,

"holy.fucking.shit."

↳˗ˏˋ charlie ˊˎ˗ ↴

you and charlie are having a movie night at his place, the half-eaten popcorn bowl abandoned on the coffee table beside an empty bag of gummy bears. the sun setting and your full belly are a bad combo as your eyelids grow heavier as the seconds tick by. you're about to pass out when you feel him move behind you, hips pressing into yours as he yawns. you let out a loud whine, cockwarming him now backfiring as it makes you start to throb around him.

"don't tell me you were about to fall asleep," his voice startles you so you jump a little. making your predicament worse as it makes his dick hits a spot deep within you, moaning out as you press your thighs together. "s-shut up!"

he just laughs at that, wrapping his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest. you grip his forearms, feeling him somehow sink even deeper into you. "stooop baby..this isn't fair!"

you look over your shoulder, giving him a sad look to guilt trip him. it seems to work because he's pulling out to quickly slam back in, hands going to strip you of his oversized hoodie you have on. (the ONLY thing you have on btw)

charlie's a sweetheart, always treating you like a queen in and out of the bedroom. but you notice the dark look in his eye sometimes, the way he gets lost in his head and will start pounding into you. you know he's holding back, can sense it every time your intimate...and you crave to know what's going thru his head in those moments. so you do the only thing you know charlie will hate. you two specifically spoke about faking orgasms the first time you has sex.

"just be honest with me, i need to learn your body and what you like. don't gotta pretend with me, y/n. never with me, okay?"

you know he's got a dom in him somewhere, so you do what you have to to see if you can bring it out. as he squeezes your newly uncovered tits you start your plan with loud moans pouring from your mouth. you do the poorest job of faking it, making sure to give your worst performance possible. you feel charlie freeze up behind you, his arms loosening from around you.

"ch-charlie?" your voice shakes as you call out to him, "why'd you stop, baby?"

before you know it he's pulling out of your pussy, forcing you off the couch and onto your knees. "you know exactly why. don't act fucking dumb," his eyes are set into a glare as he spits the words at you. your hands go to grab his cock, thinking he wants to use your throat. but he's slapping your hands away before going to grab your panties off the floor, using them to bind your hands behind your back.

"now you're gonna fucking sit there and let me cum on that pretty face like the slut you are," he's standing in front of you now, towering over your naked frame on the floor. your sitting on your knees, bound and so wet it's driving you insane. your boyfriend's muscles are flexing as he pumps his cock, red angry tip leaking precum profusely.

you start squirming, trying to get some pleasure from pressing your thighs together as you watch him in all his glory. he thankfully doesn't notice for a few minutes, too lost in his new mindset he's finally opening up. but when he does he's kicking your legs apart, free hand going to your hair to bring your attention up to him, "so goddamn needy but you're not cumming tonight, baby."

you whine at that, opening your mouth to talk back but you're cut off by charlie shoving his balls into your mouth. your brain melts as your tongue massages him, eyes going hazy as you slip into sub space. there's drool running down your chin, switching between his balls as he starts letting out some whines of his own.

"keep fucking sucking," he's quickening his pace now. the air in the room reeking of sex as charlie's chest starts heaving, cheeks growing red as he nears closer to his orgasm. you do your best to make it the best you can without your hands, pussy leaking all over the floor from the sight above you.

"oooh fuuuuuccckkk," he's forcing your head to stay choking on his balls as he pumps himself to the edge. your eyes are rolling into the back of your skull from the grip in your hair, moaning out at the feeling. he's whimpering as ropes of his cum paint your face, the vibrations finally sending him into nirvana. he releases your hair, petting your head as he leans down to untie your wrists.

"you okay, baby? did i go too far? fuck I'm so sor-" you cut him off with a kiss. silencing his doubts as you burst into a smile, pulling away to smirk at him as you reflect on what just happened.

"my plan totally worked!"

his mouth falls open at your confession, completely caught off guard by your sneaky ass games.

"i knew you couldn't have been that bad of an actor! no way that was your best fake orgasm!" he's smiling at you as he brings your wrists to his mouth, leaving kisses against the red marks.

"obviously! i could definitely fool you if I wanted," a scream leaves your lips as soon as the sentence leaves your mouth. charlie doesn't hesitate to throw you over his shoulder as he lands a playful slap on your ass.

"yeah sure, cupcake," your view of the floor is flipped as your boyfriend tosses you onto his bed. "now lay back and let me show you why you don't ever have to fake an orgasm again...even if it was only to set me off. "

"i don't know…it got us what we both wanted, right?" there's a light in your eyes as you say it, giggles flowing thru you effortlessly.

"oh you're trouble," he's lowering himself against your body, smile never leaving his face.

"yeah…but that's why you like me so much."

"yeah.. it is you fucking psycho."

(bonus)

"cooome on, baby," it's moaned into your overstimulated pussy, charlie devouring you from underneath. he's been between your thighs for an hour now, with this last round leading him to sweet-talk you into sitting on his face. your juices are running down his face and chest, hands tangled in his hair. you two lock eyes as your stomach starts twisting up for the fifth time tonight. there's a smugness to his voice as your legs start shaking around his head, "yeaaahh this one's real, huh honey?"

[candiedapplez]

I ask you all of the questions from that one reblog. Good luck/nf/j

Omg ok this will be a while then tehehehehehehhe im not complaining though!!!! Heres the questions so u can look at the questions and the answers!

1.this one is OBVIOUS!!! A-90 and Opheebop!!! DUUUUUUUH!

2.lighter. Ive never used a match before

3.ew no!!! I don't want buggies crawling in my room while im sleeping!!!! However i have before!

4. Aaaaaa ive never really gotten into that stuff so i cant really give an answer-

5. A really dark brown!!

6. Oops i did that again???

7. Well idk ive used both and they are both work really well! however i do think scrunchies are safer for your hair, i use normal hair ties more often because scrunchies are more bulky and yeah i dont prefer that, but both are great!

8. Six. I have six.

9.NONE! COFFE IS GROSS BLEEEEEEGH!!

10. Ofc!!

11. Does drawing count?

12. Good day!!!!! I havent cried yet so-

13. Not too long ago, like an hour ago actually. I had pizza! (Incase u were wondering)

14. HELL YEAH!!!

15. Nope and i never want to be 😗

16. NoooooOoOoO-

17. Nope i have perfect vision muah

18. I DONT WANNA SAY TEHE! (Sry)

19. Yea ofc!!! But they probably wont turn out good…

20. Soda…. Ive never seen or heard anyone say pop before….

21. Plushies!!!! I have a unicorn plush my old friend (we dont talk anymore since she moved) gave me for my 7th bday!!!! Yes i remember when, yes i still have it! And its in perferct condition!!! Also there was this one kid who ig had a crush on my and he gave me a basket full of stuff for valentines day and i still have said basket-

22. I have no clue what this means? I guess sensitive?

23. Love it!!!!!

24. Eating :] (and joking abt pushing each other off probably/JOKE/JOKE/JOKE/JOKE)

25. Aaaa i use all of them but i use lotion most so ig lotion?

26. Idk what to say for this one aaaaaagh

27. Like 5 i think? Ive been getting better with my sleep time!!!!

28. Not anymore, our school last year said we could take them off, however i was SO insecure about my face (still am, but not as much as before) so i would wear it every single day. If i showed up to school without one people got surprised. I stopped wearing them this year, however.

29. Hot????

30. THE FUCKING WATER BOTTLES!!!!

31. Theres a lot, i dont wanna get into it 😵‍💫

32…… is that a thing? People have favorite towels??

33. Hm my school took us on a field trip to a high school so we can see animals if that counts… (i have pictures btw if u wanna see them! We saw pigs, sheep, cows and bunny! I didnt take pic of bunny tho 😢)

34. LITERALLY EVERY SIX THE MUSICAL SONG HOLY SHIT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS (the only ones i might mess up on are aywd and idnyl bc aywd is long and i dont listen to idnyl often)

35. Pst!!

36. Only once! My username used to have a 0 between the words (Candied0applez) but i changed it bc it made it sound like i candied no apples… but i was originally going to be called caramelapplez but i thought candied sounded better heheh)

37. The friend i mentioned earlier i met first day of kindergarden, her name is Alana, and this other girl Maya i met before kinder! We met eachother at a park and when we walked home we found out we were neighbors so we instantly became besties! (We still are to this day but she lives 30 mins away so i dont see her often-(

38. All…?

39. Sometimes!

40. Ice cream!!!

41. Empty. Coffee is gross

42. Hahahah yt, roblox and occasionally twitter!

43. HAND IT OVER BITCH!

44. Myself/j fucking donald trump 🤮👈🖕

45. NO ☺️

46. Oh god i dont watch any 🫢

47. | v

this actually was to the other girl i mentioned earlier! Maya! I found baby pictures of us when we were in 2nd-3rd grade and i showed her today!!!

48. Never and i dont plan on ever!

49. Never tried

50. GO AHEAD I GET SO EXCITED WHEN IM TAGGED IN SOMETHING AAAAA!

omg that took forever!!! Gosh i dont mind though!!! These were fun questions! Aaaaaaaa i enjoyed that tyty!

[sanyuuu]

⩩ pov: you caught them jerking off ( part 1 )

including: eren, jean, reiner, armin, erwin, bertholdt, porco

warnings: smut, a little bit of humor, daddy kink, mention of: fleshlight, pantie, pet name ( kitten ), gender neutral reader, jerking off obviously, minors do not interact ( 18+ only )

a/n: hi everyone! I just have to tell y'all that English isn't my native language, sorry if there's any mistakes </3 I'm also kinda stressed bc that's the first aot content that I post, hope you'll like it! please, do not steal my work/ideas :/

⟳Eren :

- The second you enter you shared bedroom, you know it's over 💀

- Eren would not stop pumping lazily his thick cock, precum gathering on the tip, sending you a heated gaze, some strands of his messy bun sticking to his forehead because of the thin layer of sweat that covers his body.

- This vision alone will make you rub your thighs in anticipation, which will make Eren smirk like the cocky mf he is--

- "Come and make daddy feel good baby."

⟳Reiner :

- You were in the living room, scrolling through TikTok when you suddenly heard strange noises.

- Starting your research, you conclude that those sounds come from your bedroom, where Reiner is.

- Opening the door as quietly as you can, you see you bf who's stroking his veiny cock furiously, chasing his own high, precum leaking from the fat reddish head.

- He also muffles his grunts by biting in his t-shirt because poor baby doesn't want to disturb you </3

- That's only after shooting his load on his belly that he will notice you, his cheeks glowing red.

- "Were you watching?"

⟳Armin :

- Let's face it: he was too shy to ask you to take care of his problem during your weekly friday movie night.

- Right in the middle of an erotic scene, he stood up and stuttered an apology before going straight to your shared bedroom like 🚪🏃🏼

- A couple of minutes after, seing that he wasn't coming back, you decided to join him just to make sure he was okay.

- When you opened the door, istg he was like this 💀💀 and then he covered his erection with the sheets, his face all red.

- "D-Don't look y/n !"

⟳Erwin :

- So you were coming home from the market, leaving your bags on the kitchen counter as you searched for you bf, Erwin, who was busy with his work, as always.

- You called out his name to ask him to help you with the groceries, but there was no answer, which you thought was strange. so you decided to sneak in his office-

- That's how you caught him jerking off, his hand deep in his pants, brows furrowed and lips slightly parted, letting escape soft moans.

- When he saw you, he pulled out his dick, which slammed against his shirt before asking:

- "Can you help me kitten?"

⟳Bertholdt :

- Another shy baby </3

- but don't get me wrong, this giant baby knows how to take care of himself-

- when you walked on him, this first thing you saw was him, lying down on your bed, a fleshlight going down on his dick, his eyes totally shut.

- the fleshlight wasn't even a gift from you, it was from Reiner back when Berty didn't had you 💀

- As he kept pumping his length with the toy, you climbed silently on the bed, putting your hand over his, which made him totally freak out.

- "It'snotwhatyouthinkitis--"

⟳Porco :

- He's a pantie thief for sure 💀

- Lately you were wondering why some of your favorite panties were missing, your bf blaming it on the washing machine.

- But one day, when you came home earlier from work, you discovered that the real thief wasn't the washing machine 😱

- As you entered your shared bedroom without knocking, you can clearly see Porco, one of his hand fucking his cock with your favorite pantie no.1, the other one gripping on your favorite pantie no.2 on his face, while smelling deeply the thin material.

- When he finally saw you, he freezed for an instant before coming back to his occupation, staring at you with a lust gaze.

- "I found these in the washing machine."

⟳Jean :

- As you had nothing to do, you decided to do the laundry, so you went to the bathroom to pick up all of your dirty clothes, not expecting your boyfriend to jerk off in the shower.

- When you opened the door, you first thought that Jean was taking a shower because of the noise of the water running, but his moves were kinda strange if you know what I'm saying--

- You could only see him from behind, but it was enough to get you turned on: the way his muscles flexed, soft sighs of pleasure leaving his mouth, the way his head falls back as he reach his high.

- And when he finally turned back, he was like a deer in light, not daring to move a single muscle, only murmuring.

- "Since when you are here?"

Next chapter

[awkwardtickleetoo]

Birthday Raspberries: The Origin Story

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DREAM!!!!

its dreams birthday, which is awesome, but that also means that my blog birthday is coming up, which is just way cooler, sorry dream (/j)

anyway!! this is the 3rd and unfortunately final installment of the birthday raspberries fic trilogy!! this one is a prequel to the other 2, so in chronological order is goes dream -> george -> sapnap :))

it's always so so so fun writing these fics, they're adorable, the dteam is adorable, birthday tickles are adorable, I love them. they're some of my favorite pics I've posted on here i think

little disclaimer before we start: this is a prequel, but it is still referenced to be dream 23rd birthday. does it make sense? no. but we can live with it

lee!dream, ler!sapnap, 3.1k words

enjoy!!

--

There was a certain tradition that Sapnap wanted to bring back. It was something that his family had instilled in him in his very early childhood but stopped as he got older, something that he remembered randomly one day in high school and renewed with his friends through those years, leading up to when they all went to college.

Unfortunately for Sapnap, a majority of his friend group split apart to move away for school or with their families, and most of his other friends were online, so this tradition that solely required being physically with a person was lost to him again.

Fortunately for Sapnap, he now lived in the same house as his best friend, frequently visited his other friends, and another one was coming to live with them soon. This was the perfect time to bring this tradition back again, he decided. Third time's the charm, right?

When Dream found out what the tradition was, he didn't exactly feel the same way.

It was nearing midnight, and the end of Dream's birthday, and Dream's family had already left a few hours ago after they came over for dinner and cake. Sapnap had offered to help make dinner, since Dream's family were bringing the cake, and between himself being helpful and Dream's mom being the cooking master, everything had turned out pretty good, and they had plenty of leftovers to last them the rest of the week.

Dream and Sapnap were laying on the couch in their living room, the newer one they had just bought a month or so before to better fit their living space. Dream sat partially slumped over, his arm draped along the back of the couch as he rested his head on it, legs crossed at the ankles as they laid out in front of him off the chaise of the couch. Sapnap laid perpendicular to him, lounging across the length of the couch with his head on Dream's thigh. They decided to watch a few episodes of an anime they were in the middle of before calling it a night, both of them still buzzing with too much happy energy to go to sleep yet. Finally, about halfway through the last episode of the season, Dream let out a yawn, covering his mouth and scrunching his nose up as he did.

"Tired?" Sapnap asked, tilting his head up at his friend. Dream nodded through the end of his yawn.

"Yeah, finally," Dream chuckled, rubbing his eye with his knuckle and sighing out the breath he'd spoken through. "I'll probably head up after this episode finishes."

"Mm…" Sapnap hummed in acknowledgment, looking back at the TV screen.

About 15 minutes later, the season credits were on screen, and Sapnap reached for the remote to exit out of the show. They spoke for a couple minutes about the ending, speaking in sleep-deprived tones as they giggled quietly. Sapnap spoke up again before they departed.

"Can I tell you a story I remembered earlier before we go to bed really quick?"

"Of course, I'm all ears," Dream replied, pushing his hood that had been covering his head off and running a hand through his hair.

"Okay, so like, I remembered this thing during dinner because it has to do with birthdays but I didn't get a chance to tell you bc it wasn't important," Sapnap looked up at Dream as he spoke, somehow still sounding energetic even with how tired Dream knew they both were. "So, when I was a little kid, like really little, my mom had this… I guess it was kind of a tradition? Where every year, on my birthday, she would come into my room in the morning and bring me breakfast in bed, and she'd, like…" Sapnap cut himself off with a small chuckle, breaking off into his own giggles as his face became a little pink and he looked away from Dream for a second before looking back. Dream had a confused look on his face, tilting his head like a puppy as he waited for Sapnap to keep going. "Okay, don't laugh, but she would, like, wake me up by tickling me and then she'd give me a bunch of raspberries, however many years old I was that day," Sapnap admitted through his giggles, and Dream smiled at his confession, giggling a bit to himself at the idea of a kid-Sapnap getting lost in laughter from a few little raspberries. "And, dude, when I was a kid, I fucking loved that shit, I thought it was the most fun thing in the world and then I'd eat my little bowl of cereal and bacon and toast that she brought me and she'd sit with me and I'd break her off pieces of the toast to eat and I thought I was the best kid in the world, it was fucking awesome."

"That's adorable," Dream responded, and Sapnap continued again.

"So then, when I got older, she kind of stopped, because once you get older and into, like, middle school or past age 10 that stuff tends to stop, which is fine, but I forgot about it for a while until one day in high school it was my friends birthday and I just randomly remembered it, so I was like 'fuck it', y'know? I wanted to bring it back, so when we stayed at his house that night and I made sure I was the first one there so I could tell everyone about it– and I made sure everyone was comfortable, I didn't go overboard or anything, but we were all pretty physically affectionate people so no one really minded that much, and also we all loved embarrassing each other so it just worked."

"Mhm."

"And since everyone kinda left for college after junior or senior year I only got to do it a few times, like I did it to that kid on his 17th birthday, another kid on his 18th, and this one girl in our group on her 18th, and it was always so fun and hilarious."

"That does sound pretty funny," Dream agreed, and Sapnap smiled up at him, knowing his plan was coming into action faster than he had imagined.

"It was… but anyway, that was a really long story, but it does have a point, okay?" Dream nodded. "So the point is… I think I wanna bring the tradition back." Sapnap explained almost sheepishly, looking up at Dream for reassurance.

"Sapnap, are you asking me to give you birthday raspberries when it gets to your birthday?" Dream asked with a wide smile, originally wanting to seem smug and embarrass Sapnap, but seeing the smile on his face made his tone come out as genuine and soft as it could be.

"No! Well– well, yes, but, that's not what I meant right now," Sapnap explained further, waiting for the lightbulb to flick on in Dream's mind.

It didn't. Instead, Dream looked at him as if he'd spoken a completely different language.

"I don't… I don't get what you're saying, then," Dream said, toying with the end of his hoodie string as he curled the end around his finger and pulled it to be even with the opposite string.

"Dream. I want you to let me do it to you."

Dream's eyes widened just slightly, glancing at Sapnap and then looking away, switching between the two as he let out a shocked chuckle.

"Oh…" Dream said, unhelpful, as he tried to think of anything to say in response. He fidgeted with his hoodie string again. "Um…"

"C'mon, please?" Sapnap asked, leaning up slightly on one elbow and reaching his free hand up to lace his fingers with Dream's hand. Dream let his hand be held, smiling despite himself. "I'll be nice! And– and if you let me do it now, you can help me do it to everyone else in the future too! Like– George definitely, and Karl and Quackity if we're around them on theirs. Just let me do it, come on, just, come on."

"But you said it's the same number as whatever age you're turning? That's a lot, Sapnap, you haven't had it done to you since you were 10 or some shit, there's a big difference between 10 and 23." Dream explained nervously.

"I know, but you did say earlier that it sounded fun!" Sapnap elaborated as he fully sat up, pointing a finger at Dream accusingly. Suddenly, he got a devious idea, smirking as he continued. "But I can be gentle, I get it, you're fragile."

"I'm not fragile!"

"It's okay, Dream, I understand, you're worried you won't be able to handle it."

"That is not what I said!"

"No, it's fine, you're just too ticklish for this, it's okay."

"N-no!"

"Maybe when we get George here he'll say yes and then it'll prove he's stronger than you."

"Fine!" Dream finally caved, pulling his hand away from Sapnap in favor of pulling his sleeves over his hands and curling in on himself. He sat cross-legged now, his hands folded in his lap and elbows brought in close to his body. "Fine, I'll– I'll let you do it, if you shut up about me being too 'ticklish' and 'fragile' to handle it, I could literally beat you up."

Sapnap smiled proudly, holding out his hand for a handshake.

"Deal," he said, waiting for Dream to grab his hand.

"Dea–" Dream tried to respond, but was cut off by a loud yell as Sapnap held his hand tight and yanked him forward. He was too caught off guard to catch himself, so he landed on his side, his shoulder colliding with the soft couch cushions and his knee colliding with Sapnap's arm. Before he could even process what happened, Sapnap was sitting on top of him, straddling his hips and reaching behind him to press his knees so they were flat as well. Dream tried to protest when he felt his hoodie being pushed up just slightly, the sliver of skin by his hip above the waistband of his sweatpants showing now. "NO! No, no, Sapn–AP!" Dream yelped, gasping and slamming his hands over his mouth when there was a sudden, unbearable vibrating sensation on his hip that felt like it was coming from inside his skin.

Sapnap had blown the first raspberry. And if that was just the first, Dream had no fucking clue how he was going to be able to handle the remaining 22.

He caught his breath quickly, body tense and stiff as Sapnap sat up and laughed at him.

"Shut the hell up," Dream said when he heard him laughing.

"I didn't even say anything!" Dream huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes, maneuvering his body so he was more comfortable. Sapnap let him move around, and he ended up laying fully back with his knees bent and his legs propped up against the back of the couch, his ankles against the arm. Sapnap moved over as well, sitting on the corner bumper of the couch where Dream was before in order to have full access to Dream's body.

"That wasn't nice," Dream muttered, crossing his arms in front of his chest in an attempt to seem intimidating, but his wide smile and the fact that he was still holding onto the ends of his sleeves gave him away.

"Which part, the throwing you around like a ragdoll or the part where I completely wrecked your shit?"

"Both!"

"Mhm, still think you could beat me up?"

"Yes! I definitely could!" Sapnap jumped at the opportunity, pushing Dream's hoodie up again and blowing another raspberry in the same place as before. "NO!" Dream yelled, catching him in the act this time and moving to push at his head. He still tried to hold in his laughter, biting his lip this time, until Sapnap blew a third raspberry, and then his attempts were lost. "Sapnahahahap!" Dream giggled out, grabbing at Sapnap's shoulder and shaking his head. Another raspberry was blown on his side, followed by a fifth against the bottom of his ribs. Dream took in a sharp breath as his laughter began anew, fingers gripping the fabric of Sapnap's hoodie as he pulled him away slightly. "GOHOHOD jeheheheez let– lehehet me breheathe!"

Sapnap giggled slightly as he pulled away, rubbing his palm soothingly over Dream's bunched up hoodie.

"Sorry. Guess I'm a little eager," Sapnap apologized bashfully. "You're just so cute, I can't help it."

"Shut up," Dream groaned, smiling wide at Sapnap's genuine words. "You're annoying."

"Yeah," Sapnap agreed, tone sweet, before he suddenly leaned forward and blew a raspberry right on Dream's tummy. Dream let out a strained, wheezy laugh, caught off guard once again by the sudden feeling, curling up slightly and instinctively cradling the back of Sapnap's head in his hands. Three more were blown in quick succession in a line just underneath his belly button, and he flopped back onto the couch just to arch his back away from the feeling.

"OHOH GOHOHOD, Sapnahahahap!" Sapnap pulled back to laugh along with Dream again, adjusting the way he was sitting to be a little closer to him. He pushed Dream's hoodie a bit further up, then proceeded to blow four raspberries in a diamond shape– one at his sternum, one at the front of his left side's ribs, one in the center of his tummy, and one on the right, before finishing that section with one right in the middle of the diamond. "Sahahap, plehehehease!"

"Fine! Fine, you're such a baby, you literally have, like, only 9 left," Sapnap teased, letting Dream catch his breath again. Dream's giggles kept up as he took a few deep breaths, reaching up to cover his face with his hands, before reaching further back to pull his hood up and over his head, pulling it as far as it would go to help him hide his bright red face.

"9 ihis still a lot, Sapnahap!" Dream mumbled.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I can help, let's make it 8 instead," Sapnap continued his teasing, smiling as he dropped his head down to meet Dream's torso again, lips landing to the left of his belly button and making him arch his back. As he squirmed, turning as far onto his side as he could and leaving his back exposed, Sapnap decided to seize the opportunity and blow a raspberry on the back of his ribs.

The sensation hit Dream like a freight train.

"FUCK!" Dream yelled, covering his mouth with his hand and using his other arm to brace himself against the couch. His fist collided with the cushion twice before he simply resorted to gripping the fabric tightly between his fingers. His reaction was enough to make Sapnap stop on his tracks, grinning like a little kid on Christmas.

"Okay. I don't know what I just did, but I know for a fact that the rest of these raspberries need to do the exact same thing," Sapnap said, in slight disbelief at how much of a reaction that spot got out of Dream.

"NO, you don't!" Dream shook his head, moving to lay down on his back again, but Sapnap's hand pushing against his side stopped him. "No, stop! Stop, don't, just get it over with normally!"

"Absolutely not, I'm gonna do it my way," Sapnap explained as he pushed Dream harder, kneeling up on his knees before straddling the back of Dream's thighs when he pushed him fully over.

"Sapnap, noho, no, that's not fahair–" Dream tried to push himself back, but with the way his torso was twisted and the way Sapnap was sitting on his legs, it was almost impossible to do anything but kick his legs against the arm of the couch and turn fully onto his stomach.

"Alright enough stalling," Sapnap commented before pushing Dream's hoodie up his back, blowing another raspberry on the back of Dream's ribs. Dream arched his back again, not getting very far this time with the way his front was pressed into the couch below him.

"Nahahaha, ohohoh my gohohod, that's so bahahahad," Dream complained, squealing and covering his mouth in embarrassment when Sapnap placed three raspberries in a line up his spine, the first one right between the dips of the dimples in his lower back and the final one netween his shoulder blades. "Sahahapnahap, plehehehease,"

"It's alright, there's just three left, you're so close. You honestly lasted way longer than I expected."

"Whahahat– ahaha– whahat is that supposed to mehean?" Dream asked, turning his head around to look at Sapnap behind him.

"Nothing! I just expected you to tap out, y'know?"

"I dihidn't– AH!" Sapnap cut him off by leaning forward and blowing a raspberry against the side of his neck.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Yohohou suhuck…" Dream mumbled, burying his face in his arm as he waited for the final two raspberries to hit him. "I wahas– I was gonna sahay Ihihi don't need toho tap out."

"Oh. Well, that's good, because I'm gonna make these last two unbearable now," Sapnap teased again, earning a loud, muffled groan from Dream. Sapnap took a deep breath, taking in as much air as he possibly could, smiling as he used all of his breath to blow one long, continued raspberry on Dream's side.

"NAHAhaha–!" Dream laughed freely, strength leaving his body as Sapnap repeated the action, blowing his longest raspberry yet as his big finale. He giggled against Dream's skin as he pulled away, tugging Dream's hoodie down and flopping down to lay flat on top of his limp form.

"Allllll done, birthday boy!" Sapnap said, still giggling along with Dream as he came down from his ticklish high.

"That was horrible. My spine is tingling," Dream explained once his laughter calmed down. "I'm exhausted."

"You're welcome," Sapnap said with a giggle, making Dream smile and shake his head against his arm.

Sapnap pushed himself up, standing and reaching a hand out to help Dream stand as well. It took him a moment to adjust himself, twisting his hoodie's sleeves and torso from where they were slightly turned from his squirming, and standing up straight to stretch.

"And," Sapnap began. "Just think. Now you can help me do this to other people too. Especially George."

Dream couldn't help but smile, the idea of George falling victim to the same treatment he was just subjected to sitting at the forefront of his mind.

"I would be honored."

And with that, the two parted to their individual bedrooms, and Dream went to sleep that night thinking about what it might be like if he was one to get Sapnap back on his upcoming birthday…

It may have been the best night of sleep he'd ever had.

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

I know mob sebastian has 2 boys and 2 girls but I can't stop thinking of him as a girl dad for the first time

aaaaa i just had to write something about mob seb with his first baby daughter and also make it christmas bc hey yo it's christmas season

part of the handmaid series

The weather outside was spiteful, the Parisian skies dark grey as it threatened to rain, or even snow based on how cold it was outside. It had been a full day of meetings and looking at badly done contracts, an everyday routine which he had been accustomed to yet ever since Y/N had given birth to their first daughter, their third child, it was becoming harder, and harder to leave his family for more than a few hours. Thankfully, he was back home and as he opened the door to their top floor flat, immediately seeing his wife and two sons out of the corner of his eye. Nate was running around the Christmas tree with some golden garland while Oli has his warms wrapped around his mother as per usual. He smiled at the corner of his lips, slowly closing the door behind him and hanging the coat on the coat hanger by the door.

Y/N was cooing at her son, smiling at him with that angelic like look of hers that made him fall in love with her over and over again every single day. She didn't change a single thing from the time he'd met her and it was refreshing. It was refreshing to see that the person he'd met was genuine and that discovering her past and where she'd come from hadn't changed her. She was still the love of his life, she'd always be the love of his life. She lifted her gaze from her son to meet his, a playful smirk forming in her lips.

    - Hi, angel. - he walked up to kiss, kissing her temple, before holding her close to his side. - What are you guys up to?

    - Decorating. - Nate stopped running around the tree to tell his dad what he was doing before returning to run.

   - Are you decorating, Oli? - he asked Oli who had his head laid on her chest, toying with the pearls Sebastian had gifted her for her birthday. - Where's Lizzie?

   - Sleeping. That's all she does, Seb. - she joked before moving to open one of the boxes containing the decorations.

He kissed her once more before moving to help pick out decorations with Nate. It was nice getting to decorate the house with his family as it sadly barely happened. He worked too much, he knew he did and the last time he'd gotten time to decorate had been when Nate was a newborn and he was on parent leave. He had no choice at the end of the day, if one step was mistaken then he'd put his whole family in danger and he was not let that happened. However, he did enjoy being a father, he enjoyed waking up in the morning earlier than everyone else and cook breakfast. He enjoyed looking at Nate pick up ornaments and put them on the tree in odd orders.

He was busy watching his son toy around with the sparkly ornaments when the baby monitor on the living room went off. Y/N turned towards the noise, moving to put Oli on the ground but he started to pout which both of them knew was never good, it normally meant a fit was on the way. Nate was used to being the older brother, Oli was not and Y/N and Sebastian were still trying to make him more comfortable with a new baby in the house.

   - I got it, angel. - Sebastian got up from his crouching position to go comfort Lizzie.

He walked to the nursery where he could hear her faint cries; although, he liked to joke she wasn't crying, she was just awake and wanted attention. If both his sons would normally look at their crib mobiles when they woke up back when they were newborns and would only cry when they felt they needed something, Lizzie cried the moment she woke up. He looked over her crib and the crying ceased, the five month old extending her arms to be picked up. He chuckled at this, moving his arms to pick her up, one hand under her bum and the other one on her back.

   - You are a little attention seeker. - he kissed her cheek, rocking her side to side. - Let's go make mummy some company?

Her fists balled against his shirt as he took her back to the living room where Oli was still holding onto his mum. Sebastian had to admit it was quite funny seeing his son being jealous of his mum's attention, yet he was still very young and used to having all the attention in the world so he understood that. Y/N smiled as she saw Sebastian walk into the room, carrying their daughter who was dressed in a teddy fur onesie with a matching hat that she still hadn't managed to take away unlike her socks which one was missing.

   - Look who's awake. - Sebastian propped her daughter better against him. - And ready for attention.

   - Like her dad, huh? - Y/N teased.

   - Very funny, Mrs. Stan. - he got close to his wife, nipping her in the neck when both Oli and Nate weren’t paying attention. - I seem to be reminded you’re the one who likes my attention.

   - Daddy, come help with the tree! - Nate whined, interrupting a very hot flushed Y/N. 

He winked at his flustered wife before pacing over to his son to look at him place various tree ornaments. Lizzie eyed the ornaments box curiously, being just low enough to hit her hand against some of the baubles before grabbing a gold one. A very specific bauble. Well, she’s just like her mum, Sebastian thought as she showed him what she had scavenged from the box. 

   - That’s mummy’s favourite. - he explained. - The only proof your grandfather slightly raised her.

   - Seb! - Y/N warned. - We’re gonna have a nice peaceful Christmas.

   - Sure thing, angel. Just letting our daughter know a bit of family history. - he smiled at Lizzie who was still staring at the bauble, happily munching at the string while she did so. - Do you wanna put it on the tree?

She continued munching on the string as Sebastian grabbed a random ornament to put on the tree. She stared at the motion, before throwing the bauble at the tree which he caught before it could shatter. 

   - We do it like this, baby. - he held her chubby little hand in his as both hanged the ornament on the tree. The 5 month year old stared at it for a while before squealing of joy. - Well done, baby. I’m so proud. 

   - I mean it. - Y/N walked over to Sebastian as Oli decided to join in with his brother to place some random ornaments in the tree. - You’ll be good to my dad.

   - Yes, angel.

   - And you will not fight him when he calls her Robin. - Y/N pointed out.

   - Her name is Elizabeth.

   - Her first name is Robin. 

   - Yeah but we don’t really call her Robin, do we? - he had a point. - I’m just defensive of our kids. 

   - You’re a softie, is what you are. - she leaned against him watching the tree become filled with sparkling ornaments. - The moment Lizzie was born that was it. You became a girl dad.

   - What is that supposed to mean?

   - It means, you’re an incredible softie. It was bad with Nate and Oli but with Lizzie ...

   - Not my fault you gave me perfect kids. 

   - No. - she smiled. - Not your fault at all.

[quietlyimplode]

do you take fic requests bc if you do could you do something like how in bw nat flinches when dreykov goes to hit her the first time and maybe when clint first meets her or something all she does is flinch and super submissive??

Hey Anon. Not sure if this is exactly what you’re thinking; I think there’s a strong correlation between why Natasha flinched and Dreykov being the ultimate abuser; I think that she would be able to differentiate him and Clint. I’m not sure she would have as violent reaction to someone she didn’t know, because that reaction (I think) is one borne of repeat trauma. Sooo this is a 5+1 touching on that reaction.

Warnings for: child abuse, child death, red room musings, domestic violence, child trafficking, black widow spoilers, and ptsd. (3045 words)

Forged.

.

1/

Everything is so overwhelming. There are girls screaming, men with guns. She holds on tightly to Yelena and makes her stand behind her.

The guns have lights on them and she can’t follow them all.

There’s so many people, it’s loud, and confusing and Natasha just wants to cry.

Pain only makes you stronger.

But her chest hurts. It’s a ball of panic that hasn’t gone away since Mama Melina said she was sorry.

She tries to school her face so that it’s devoid of panic; but it’s hard. Yelena is holding her hand hard.

It happens quickly.

They grab Yelena and she yells and screams for her, tries to pull her back but they hit her in the face.

Disoriented, she loses track of her sister, the pain in her heart intensifies in panic and she catches sight of blonde hair. She rips the picture in her hand, and runs over to her.

She knew it was going to happen. She didn’t think it would be like this. She thought they could stay together.

“Take it.” She yells. “Take it.” And shoves it into Yelena’s hands. She’s pulled away and so is Yelena.

She can’t help the feral noises that break free from her body.

She doesn’t cry though.

Pain only makes you stronger and she is in so, so much pain.

She’s lined up with the others and is made to step forward.

She sees him; the man from Cuba. The one Papa Alexei embraced. He walks up to her.

He smells of cigars and strong cologne and it takes everything she has to hold his gaze and not turn up her nose.

The man grabs her head, and she flinches hard against his hands. He gets closer and there’s something in her that remembers this man.

“The Red Room is your home now,” he tells her and looks her up and down, gaze lingering.

He pushes her into a line with 3 older girls and she bites the inside of her mouth as hard as she can to stop herself hyperventilating and panicking.

Pain. She reminds herself.

Pain.

.

2/

There’s four girls with her. The biggest of the guards is closest to her and three more stand over the others. Of course, they think it’s her, that she’s the ringleader. They’re not wrong, but it does make her think that she should perhaps try and stay under the radar a little more.

They’re all standing in front of Dreykov who exudes anger. She can count the number of times on her hand that she’s had to stand in front of him, this is the first time in her nightdress. She’s self conscious all at once and she crosses her arms around her body.

“Stand front!” The guard yells, gun in her face. She startles, as she drops her arms down to her sides, fists clenching.

Svetlana glances tentatively at her and she bows her head.

Dreykov hasn’t said anything and they’re all awaiting punishment. She knew she shouldn’t have smuggled in the Nutella but she was so excited about the new taste, the deliciousness of the spread that she could share.

He turns to face her and her blood runs cold.

“Kill them.” He says looking directly at her, his face curled in a snarl.

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head hard.

He laughs.

“Fine.” He looks to the other four.

“Kill her.” He says and ducks his head towards Natasha.

Svetlana is closest, the guards step back as she steps forward, intentions clear and Natasha can see the smile that plays across his face.

Sadists.

She’s old enough now to know to use the environment to protect herself as well, knows this room and, has taken stock of all the things in the room that could be used as a weapon. She assumed, of course, that they would be used against her, not that she would have to use them against the others.

The first punch comes from Odette, a kick from Sevenya, and attempted restraint from Clara and Svetlana. Natasha protects her head, trying to find an opening where she can get one of the girls between her so the other three have to go through her first.

It’s Clara that she throws on the floor in the way of Odette and she narrowly avoids a letter opener thrown at her head. It clatters for the floor and she scrambled back to pick it up. Holding it in front of her, she looks at the others. It’s not malice on their faces but fear.

Dreykov looks on in amusement and then looks at his watch.

Natasha waits for Odette to attack again. She was always the most impulsive. She spins to the side and kneels and feels the letter opener slice across her femoral artery, she knows she’s hit it when the gush of blood accompanies it.

She has no time to ponder it as she tries to pull the weapon out, Clara is on her again. Natasha kicks up catching her under her chin, the sound of skin hitting skin, her bare foot tingling. She pushes Clara back, adrenaline fading and fatigue setting in for all of them. Sloppy punches end up in hair pulling as Natasha swings her legs up and around her neck. Maybe if she knocks her out, she won’t have to do it.

“Enough.” Dreykov’s voice is clear and she detects the anger on it.

He pulls his gun and shoots Clara and Odette.

She flinches at the sound and almost vomits as she sees Clara take her last breath.

“Leave now. You have no place in the world, as such you may take nothing and have nothing. You will be searched on entry and exit.” He says, enunciating every word.

Natasha attempts a glance at the other two girls but they won’t meet her gaze. They all know what being searched means.

The bodies of Clara and Odette are dragged out one door as they leave through another.

.

3/

Natasha stretches. The apartment on the west side is sunny and she lays on the floor basking in the heat like a cat. She should get up and get something to eat, her stomach letting her know that it’s time, but this position is so relaxing and soothing that she ignores it; just for now. Closing her eyes she listens to the lull of slow paced music she put on earlier.

She given herself two days to do nothing. She’s sure that she’s off the radar and knows that her body and her mind needs rest. If only it worked that way.

Being on the run isn’t new. Being a fugitive from the red room and staying low is fine. She just needs to decide what she wants out of life; these are the bigger decisions that she’s putting on the back burner. Just for now.

The sun sets low and the slow growl of her tummy, lets her know that it’s truly time to get up; tend to herself and find the Thai place that knows her order when she walks in the door. A fact that she’s not sure she should be worried about.

Pulling on a jacket, she turns to set her own locks, and then moves to the door to lock it with her keys.

A bang, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a yell make her flinch hard, dropping her keys to the floor. A flash of a guard and her head whipping back from a punch is almost identical to the sound she just heard, and it takes her a second to get her breathing under control. Natasha feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up, knowing the likelihood of what she’s just heard.

She’s got a choice to make.

Help, and potentially expose herself.

Do nothing, and more red on her ledger.

Bucking courage, she walks inaudibly down the hall. Locates the sound where there’s the faint sound of crying and the low rumble of a mans voice.

She knocks, loudly and confidently.

There’s silence, before the door opens ajar, and she pushes it into his face and walks in.

“Bitch what do you think you’re doin?” Comes the drawl as he follows her.

“Did you hit her?” She asks voice low and dangerous.

“What?”

“Did you, hit her?” Natasha points to the crying woman, whose face is swollen and red.

“Who do you think you are?” The man stands over Natasha and stares down at her. She cocks her head and stares back. He goes to grab her and she turns her body, grabbing his hand and twisting, making him drop to his knees.

She twists again hard, and he grunts and cries out. There’s a strong smell of cologne, the same as Dreykov and she snaps. She breaks his hand and punches him in the face. Hears the crack of fist against cheek and shouts at him.

“How dare you?” She grunts at him, standing over him. She punches him again.

“You think it makes you more of a man?”

There’s blood on her knuckles.

The woman is asking her to stop; and she’s crying harder.

Natasha knows what she’s done, she’s not upset with herself.

She squats next to the man with the broken nose and bloodshot eyes; blood spattered making for a gruesome scene. She gets close to his face.

“Nod if you can hear me.” She says. He nods; a short dip of his head.

“I will kill you if you ever touch her again.” She promises.

“I know where you live.” She nods to the mechanic jacket hanging, “I know where you work.” She stands up.

“I will be watching.”

 

4/

Clint watches Natasha playing chess against herself and holds up the takeaway.

“Come play against me,” she invites and he laughs.

“You think you can take me?” He asks.

She finally looks up to him and grins.

“Always.”

He puts the paper bag down on the stove and laughs as she sets it up again.

“I haven’t won once, doesn’t it get boring playing against me?” His eyes twinkle at her as he looks at her, both of them smiling.

Natasha opens as she always does by moving her pawn. Clint copies her move.

She’s about to make her second move when they’re interrupted by the smoke alarm chirping and a small flame coming from the paper bag on the stove.

He laughs. Says something about not knowing the stove was still warm and waves the tea towel across the smoke alarm.

It takes him a moment, but he realises she’s not joking with him. In fact.

She’s frozen.

“Natasha?”

There’s a whine and a choked noise.

“No. Nononono.” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Make it stop. Make it stop.”

He’s scrambling now.

“Please?” He looks to where she’s looking, the smoking bag, a flame.

“Make it stop.” She repeats again.

His heart drops and he finally gets the tiny flame under control, dumping it in the sink. She’s staring where it was. Eyes blank, body tight.

He moves over to her and reaches over to her.

Natasha flinches at his touch; his hands retract quickly.

“It’s ok, Natasha.”

The haunted look doesn’t leave her face but she stands and moves away.

“Yeah, it’s ok.”she repeats back.

She leaves for the bedroom and he follows her tentatively,

“Just. Give me a minute.” She requests and shuts the bathroom door.

He sits on the bed waiting for her to emerge. He stays until he hears the tap run, and the door unlock.

When she emerges she looks the same as before, face relaxed, mask on.

“You ok?” He asks, tentatively.

“Fine.” She nods.

Clint nods with her.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks tentatively, not really knowing what to do next. The fact that she’s freaked out on him and managed to pull herself back together in the space of ten minutes is suspicious, and he feels he needs to walk on eggshells around her.

She shrugs and melts into the couch, knees to her chest.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” He ventures, sitting next to her.

“No.”

It doesn’t leave any space for probing, so he stops talking. Let’s her figure it out herself.

She uncurls herself and stands.

“Actually. I’m just going to go home.” She nods to the chess set. “Thanks for the game.”

He stands alongside her.

“You sure?” He asks, it’s not right he knows. He should keep her here, make sure she’s ok. But. They’re not there. He’s not her confidant. He’s not the one she goes to.

Natasha nods.

“Thanks.” She grabs her coat and makes for the door, passing through the threshold, pausing slightly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

By the time he reaches the door frame, she’s gone.

 

5/

Natasha has done hard things in life. She knows she has. Her whole childhood was lucky survival, and she knows it. But this. This is intentional bravery and even if she dies she knows it’s the right thing.

Being in front of him, is possibly the hardest, most confronting and perhaps masochistic move she could have taken, but given the short time frame Melina gave her, she didn’t see another way.

As he talks to her.

As he goes to touch her face.

It takes all of her not to react.

To be still.

To remember to breathe.

She asks about her mother because she can’t help it, and he tears the knife through her soul.

She wasn’t unknown. She was Natasha and all the other mothers who fought for orphaned little girls. She buries it deep, masking her face, unable to stop her eyes watering.

He makes Antonia uncover herself, and she’s ripped apart again.

Natasha carries the scars of her death on the inside. Antonia carries them on the outside.

She can’t believe what she’s hearing, seeing and wants with every once of her being to say she’s sorry. Of all the deaths she’s being responsible for, Antonia’s is the one she needs to atone for the most.

She’s alive and it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing.

Dreykov taunts her as she knew he would and sends Antonia away. It’s enough to make her mind flip back to the plan.

Finally, the opportunity to shove a gun in his face. She knows it won’t work. But the little voice inside her head thought maybe, just maybe she would be stronger than the pheromone lock. She wasn’t strong enough as a child to fight back when they took her from her bed, or when she wanted with every once of her being to protect others; but she thought maybe being separated from him, being older, grown; she wouldn’t be subjected to the same weaknesses.

She was wrong.

She can’t pull the trigger.

She can’t stab him through the heart.

And as he touches her and peels the knife from her fingers, she can feel the panic welling inside her.

She’s traipsed into the lions den, full of confidence but she’s nothing compared to science and manipulation. Despair fills every inch of her as he’s close enough to smell. The old sickly cologne that haunts her nightmares, that makes her snap into rages when she gets a whiff of it on any other man, and as it’s paired with the smell of a cigar, she’s torn back to him grabbing her face and telling her the Red Room is her home.

She is home.

She tries to outrun it but he’s going to turn her back into a mindless automaton. Not with trigger words this time. Not with pain. Or fear, or even threats. It’s all chemical. She has no choice.

Her whole body shudders in visceral pain as he gets closer to her, talking to her, saying her name.

Her voice is low as she keeps up the charade.

Sever the nerve; and it will be ok.

Sever the nerve; and he will have no control.

But.

As he raises his hand to her, she can’t do it. She flinches away and she’s so disappointed in herself. Old habits, isn’t that what they say?

She’s 10 and her eyes are black.

She’s 11 and her body knows not to bruise so easily.

She’s 12 and can take a punch easily.

Natasha bites down heavily on her cheeks drawing blood. It’s grounding. He moves away from her and mumbles something about Melina.

Control.

Control the narrative. Make him say what she needs. This is not about her.

This is not about her trauma.

She breathes heavily as he reiterates the plan to her and she tapers the panic.

Bait him.

Make him cooperate.

She can do this.

She can do hard things.

+1

The television plays and the heater whirs as Natasha sits on the big chair reading her book. She sips the sweet drink she prepared for herself and pulls the blanket up. There’s a softness about the night, and it’s built on not having any competing priorities. Not having to be anywhere the next day.

She’s alone but it’s peaceful, and allows her to mull over the words she reads.

“Being kind to yourself is the greatest kindness.” Is the quote that sticks in her head, and, as she picks up the chocolate on her left, she’s knows it’s the truth.

For once, her brain is calm and she knows the safety of this place. Clint would call it a controlled environment but she prefers to think of it as safety.

In the life of a spy, there’s no place safe enough, no turning off the low level anxiety that always follows her around, but somehow; here, she can.

She looks out the window and admires the trees atop the mountain she can see, marvels in the low fog that gathers around and has a life of its own as it moves around outside in the darkness.

There’s no light pollution, except what’s coming from inside the house.

She glances at the time, glad she made the connection, the phone call she’s expecting not breaking the peace or make her flinch at the unexpected noise permeating peace.

Natasha sets down her book and picks up her phone. One minute.

Right on cue it rings.

She smiles.

“Hey.”

.

All my fic.

[shivada-jade]

codename: vind

older sibling!reader

characters: diluc, kaeya ➡ mentions: adelinde, crepus, la signora warning(s): alcohol consumption, swearing, and because for some reason, older siblings tend to be shorter than younger siblings. iDK WHY but ugh, yeah you're shorter than diluc and kaeya bc you're the older sibling. ik, i hate it too

like, i wanna be a tall 6'2 woman

diluc's 5'10 so u can still be tall in the story.. just not 5'11 😢 sorry over 5'10 folks

➡ WRITTEN BEFORE 2.1 so uhh :D

notes: platonic w diluc and kaeya, duh bc ur the older sibling. sibling love!!! sibling love !! woop woop !

"Dad, I'm home!" You bellow out to the house, waving a polite hello to Adelinde who looked shocked to see you. You kick off your shoes and slide your way to the long table in the living room, swiftly grabbing an apple before heading upstairs.

Your hands graze the railings and make your way up to find your dad. Upon reaching the last flight of steps, you were suspicious with how the place was very quiet. Granted, your younger brothers are now adults, but it still felt too quiet. Maybe you expected to see your brothers playing a game of chess, maybe bickering and fencing. You were hoping to see your family after being away.

You were a part of the Fatui under the Mondstadt branch. It was and at the same time wasn't a choice to be roped into the Fatui. You got roped into the wrong group of friends and found yourself blackmailed by the infamous group.

You didn't want to join. You didn't want any of it. You've been disconnected from the world. Wiped out from the face of Earth. No one gave information to you, you couldn't learn anything about what's happening currently. The most you could do was send letters, but even those were difficult to send out. You had to do it in secrecy or you'd be in trouble.

Love, the better sibling,

[Y/N]

Or another common send off is:

Please write back soon,

[Y/N]

And your family never failed to send back letters. They asked what you're doing, where you are and how are you, still you never told them your occupation, fearful of what they would think and where your loyalties lie, so you told them you were working under an adventurer.

It's for the greater good. You remember trying to convince yourself.

You're a horrible person.

You were sixteen then. Your younger brothers were twelve. It's been 10 long years since you last saw them, and 6 years since you last received a letter back. You miss them dearly. You often wondered what sorts of adventures they did without you.

But why are you wondering about this? You knew what they did: you knew everything that happened.

You're living under a heavy burden.

"Dad?" You call out again. Maids and wine makers look aghast when they see you, and they're on the verge of fainting when you call out to your father.

Stop the act.

It's strange how the letters were suddenly cut off. The last letter you received was from Kaeya, telling you how you needed to come home straight away. You tried to, but the Fatui prevented you from doing so. A lady called La Signora supervised you directly to make sure you didn't leave.

You know...

Adelinde brushes the dust off her uniform and hurries up the stairs to catch up to you, "Dear, is that you [Y/N?]"

"Did you forget me that easily? I'm offended Miss Adelinde," you chided, but the teasing look in your eyes give Adelinde relief to know you aren't actually offended. "Miss, where's dad?"

You're sickening.

Adelinde takes one look at you and squeezes your shoulders with a smile, "I'm afraid that's not for me to say. Master Diluc should be able to-"

"Oh, where's Diluc and Kaeya?" You ponder, and the corners of your lips curl upwards. "Those two were always attached to the hip. Where are they now? Horseback riding at the vineyard? Ha! I-"

You glance at Adelinde's watery eyes and stop your babbling. "What's wrong Miss Adelinde?" You reach for her hands on your shoulders and hold them. "Ah, has father been making you work too hard? I can request him to lessen your load."

Adelinde shakes her head no. "You don't have a clue, do you? Oh," she sighs. "Please, rest yourself by the fireplace. I'll prepare tea for you." She rests her hands back at her side and scurries to the kitchen.

You frown, unsure why she's jumpy, but you follow her request and sit by the fireplace. The crackle of the fire contrasts the tense air you feel when maids brush past you, offering tea Adelinde made. You thank them, gently blowing on the drink.

After taking a sip, you place it down with a pinky to lessen the noise it makes on the table. You hear the door open, and the choruses of maids greeting someone.

"Welcome home, Master Diluc," you hear and other voices saying, "We've prepared a meal for you and your sibling, would you like to rest yourself?"

You peek from your chair, he obviously hadn't realized you yet.

Diluc's lips make a thin line and shrugs off his jacket, "Why is Kaeya visiting. Isn't he supposed to do his knightly duties?"

You have no clue why he says it like that. The venom in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You decide this is your cue to give him a warm welcome. You stand from your seat, and open your arms in a grand gesture and waltz to your brother. "Diluc! It's been a while huh?"

You clearly see him tense hearing your voice. His head snapped to your direction with his mouth parted. The maids respectively take their leave, bowing before they do so.

Diluc looks you up and down, still not believing you're there, like you're just his imagination. His hand slowly reaches out to you as if you're a dream.

Your feet lead you closer and you grasp him tightly in an embrace.

He freezes, but slowly relaxes in your hug, reluctantly bringing up his own arms to wrap around you. You feel his grip tightening, and you feel his shake out silent sobs. His face buries in your neck, letting tears fall on your clothes.

You soothe his back, and press a kiss on his hair. "I'm home, Diluc."

He trembles, pushing himself away to look at you clearly. Why hadn't you come home earlier? He wanted to vent, he wanted to yell, shout, he wanted to know how much he missed you in your absence.

He clears his throat and coughs in his fist. "You should have told me about your arrival," he adjusts the gloves on his hands, and looks to the floor like he did when he admitted he accidentally broke your toy when you were 10.

After these years, he still looks up to you as his older sibling. Not a thing has changed.

But you couldn't help but notice one thing. You knew Diluc and Kaeya had matured, you knew they would grow taller, but shit, now Diluc's taller than you.

"I sent a letter a month ago," you began. "It should have been sent to your office in the Favonius Headquarters? That's where I send my mail after you told me about your promotion to Cavalry Captain."

You squish his cheeks with both your hands. "Because I know you're a workaholic and only respond to letters that mean business, so that's where I sent it off to. You never write back, neither does Kaeya," you pause, thinking for a moment. "Neither does dad. Tell me he hasn't gotten sick that he couldn't respond to my letters."

Diluc lifts your hands off his face and frowns. He doesn't know how to break the news to you- not when you look so excited to be home and tell of your adventures to your family, so he asks, "Did you eat yet?"

You note the frown on his face. "'What's got you grumpy," you prod. "I need to find dad first. Told him in the first letter I gave him, I'd give the first gem I find."

Diluc watches you leave him to go to Crepus' room on the second floor. He hears the thuds on the floor and the opening of the door, but does nothing to stop you. You left with a smile, and you come back confused.

"Why is dad's room empty?"

How cruel.

...

Kaeya hums, passing by Flora's shop and purchasing a Calla Lily for the sake of it. He is well aware of the Fatui that stand by corners. Whispers of the wind give him intel, and so does alcohol apparently. He leans on a wall right outside Angel's Share, watching two Fatui members drink some of the tavern's strongest alcohol, imported from Snezhnaya.

"That damn," the one with the red and black mask hiccups, lifting a mug with foam overflowing. "Damn brat's gonna snitch on us to the Knights- *hiCC* boss lady wou- *HicC* would have our heads!"

Thankfully, their more responsible Fatui friend takes the mug and switches it with their drink, water. "You're the one who let Vindicta out of your sight when you know their frequencies to escape. This is all on you, buckaroo."

One of the Fatui escaped? How peculiar.

Kaeya hums, in steady strides he shows himself to the Fatui and takes a seat from another table and sits in front of the two. "My, my, my. If it isn't the wonderful Fatui," he divuldges. He twirls his Calla Lily around his fingers, amused with the Fatui's reactions.

Their mouths drop, knowing who he is and they hastily clean themselves up by sitting straight and wiping away the alcohol from their faces. "Good evening, sir."

"Evening to you too," he places the flower behind the person's ear, flustering them. "Well? Drink up. Everything you order will be on me."

The Fatui look at each other, skeptical with Kaeya's kindness, but the drunken one accepts the offer. Kaeya celebrates in the inside as he slowly gains Fatui intel.

Though, the second Fatui whom he dubbed the "Responsible One," took a while for them to take a sip. Turns out, they couldn't handle alcohol, that's why they avoided drinking it.

"So, my dear friends," he slides a coin on the table and stares both of them down. "A mora for your thoughts? I couldn't help but notice the tense of your shoulders when you first arrived here."

Responsible One raises their mug drunkenly, and gives a pointed look, "You... you know too much. How?..." They stare at their friend and whisper shout, "Don't tell him about Vind or-" They fail to continue their sentence and pass out on the table.

Kaeya feigns a surprised face and looks at Fatui number 2, "Who exactly is Vind? I'm sure you don't mean the storm watcher up at the cliff." He coats his voice with sugar, and it seems Fatui friend fell for his kindness.

"The damn brat," they spit out before hiccupping again. "Recruited them, fed them, saw potential, gave a home, and they escaped."

Kaeya nods and pushes another bottle of wine to the Fatui's direction, urging them to continue.

"Was supposed to be one of the Agents to spy on the *hiCc* to spy on the Ragnvindr family, because *HicC* Vind was one of the best there is. They were about to be promoted Harbinger after an assignment *hiCCUpp* but then Big Boss Lady said 'End the Ragnvindr legacy,' Vindicta left without a word. They escaped."

The Fatui downs another bottle of wine. "But judging from Boss Lady's reaction, Vind did the job: killed him and placed the blame on the Knights."

The Calvary Captain knits his brows and places his hands in front of him. It laced themselves and he watches the Fatui person empty out his wine.

"I'd be careful of what you say if I were you." His lone eye glints dangerously.

"End the legacy?" Kaeya frowns. "Can I ask..." He couldn't ask why or the Fatui would stop talking to him. "Can I ask when your beloved spy did their job?"

The Fatui waves a hand, "Six years ago. After they killed that damn aristocrat's father, they tried escaping. Big Boss supervised them under their watch. 'Potential' the Harbingers always say, but I don't see the potential in them if they don't have loyalties under the Fatui. A wild card, really."

They lay their cheek on the table. The temperature drops quite dangerously. Kaeya's diamond eye glints with coldness before it turns back to warmth.

"Rumours have it," the Fatui sighs, playing with his empty mug. "The training Vindicta went through is rougher, so we were hoping they would tie their loyalties to us. We let them explore once, and they escaped under my watch. Maybe it was their assignment to leave, maybe it's not, because Boss Lady was okay with it, she said 'Vindicta will always return in our hands.' when they first escaped, and surely enough they do return. But either way, I'm fucked for letting them go missing the third time of the week."

Kaeya laughs with no soul and quickly ends the lovely 'conversation.' He pushes himself from the table and stands, "Thank you for chatting with me, it's been interesting." He tucks in the chair and glances at the two Fatui dozing, or close to dozing off.

He swiftly turns away, scoffing when he's out of sight from people. Vindicta is a dangerous card. Not even the Fatui know where their loyalties side.

Vindicta. How peculiar indeed.

One of the best Fatui, which probably meant they were payed well with respect and mora, but why are they labeled as an escapee when they always return? With someone as dangerous as a Harbinger, who do they side with- the Fatui or something else?

Kaeya has a lot of questions.

...

Diluc sits on a cushioned chair and hunches over, resting his chin on his hands, thinking.

Always thinking.

The once lit fireplace is soaked with water he splashed over. The scent of burnt wood wafts nearby. The light chatter of maids go through one ear and leave the other.

How long had it been since he last saw you?

Eternity is his answer. It's been eternity since he last saw you.

He lets out a long sigh, throwing his head back and running a hand through his untied locks.

Too much thinking for today. Diluc groans in frustration and sits back up. He turns his head slightly, seeing you in the corner of his eyes taking out boxes of things you owned from 10 years before.

It doesn't make sense to him. Why come back so suddenly after years of not seeing you? Though, you claim you sent him letters, he never got them because he closed himself off from the Knights.

"Diluc," you set down a small picture of a family portrait you took out from hiding behind many books.

You are taking this oddly well.

You're taking this too well, in fact.

This raises a red flag for Diluc. He told you the fall out of your family, how he quit the Knights, but still you're going around the place like nothing had happened.

Don't you feel any rage? Or even sadness?

He sees too many red flags and hates it- from the way you can hide things like Kaeya so easily, to the way you just suddenly appear back in his life. It feels weird. It's not easy to let someone that in quick, yet you're still his role model, so it's okay, right?

He's always looked up to you when he was younger. You never were at a loss of words and stood up for him. You were the person he can turn to when something wrong happens, but what were you doing for yourself to be gone for so long? Adventuring Teyvat could not have taken ten whole years. Where did you even stay?

"Diluc," you crouch in front of him and talk to him as if he were six again. "I'm okay, okay?"

Diluc takes a shaky breath and sits up straight. His posture resembling a king's. "I have an idea, and I would like you to help me."

You look at him in awe. The realization settles in: Diluc has grown, and you're still stuck trying to make up the past.

"And what do I help you with?"

"Finding who's responsible for father's death."

notes: had this in my drafts for a long time and i was like "wait where was i going with this..." until BAM i have the idea again so im gonna continue it

(part 2)

[bellesowl]

birthday surprises

→ ushijima wakatoshi

genre: fluff, mm angst if you squint with one eye ; established relationship, post timeskip

synopsis: in which your one birthday wish is to spend it with your boyfriend

to: ai ( @luvnami ); happy birthday love!! lowkey thought ur birthday was on the 20th but we just won’t talk about that </3 i hope u enjoy kisses u

- a/n: hi ik i don’t usually write fics like this but i wanted to surprise ai LMAOJS i say surprise but it really wasn’t </3 i hope u all enjoy even if it probably sucks bc i don’t usually write for ushi

you jerk awake at the sound of laughter coming from the tv. you rub the sleep from your eyes and glance at the clock - 12:37 am. you open your phone and — no new messages. you sigh, pausing the movie and walk over to the bathroom to get ready for bed. you had planned to stay awake and wait for your boyfriend to wish you a happy birthday but you’ve had a long and tiring day and you physically cannot keep your eyes open for much longer. you check your phone as you get ready for bed, hoping to see a happy birthday love <3 at the very least and sigh at the lack of messages. you get into bed and decide sleep with your phone by your head. at least you’ll wake up when he does decide to text you — you just hope he didn’t forget. you know how your boyfriend gets when he’s away at a training camp like this one, all hyper focused on volleyball. you don’t necessarily mind it either- you knew what you were getting into. you shake your head, no, he wouldn’t forget my birthday of all things, you think and finally drift off into sleep.

wakatoshi lands at exactly 1:03 am. he sighs in irritation — he had wanted to get home before your birthday officially began but the damn flight delays didn’t allow it. everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion, god didn’t they see he needed to get back to you already? he checks the time on his watch - 2:07 am. he groans, running a hand through is hair. he doesn’t think he’s ever been this angsty in his life. he can’t help but bounce his knee and glance down at his watch every few minutes, urging the taxi driver to drive just a little faster.

he finally arrives at your front door at 2:29 am. he opens the door and breathes in the smell of your favorite air freshener and god did he miss it. he wasn’t even gone for that long, only a couple days seeing as he left early, but being away from you made it seem like forever. he walks further into your shared apartment and frowns at the harsh light coming from your living room. you couldn’t still be awake, could you? he breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes that you had just left the tv on. he shuts it off before heading to your bathroom to get ready for bed. he tries to be as silent as possible, opting to shower in the morning instead. he finally gets into bed and pulls you closer, letting the comforting smell of your shampoo envelope him. he lets out a satisfied sigh and kisses the top of your head before muttering a small “g’night my love, happy birthday” and drifting off to sleep.

you groan at the bright morning light and turn to your other side. you cuddle further into your pillows before you stop short — wait, your pillows weren’t this hard and they definitely didn’t smell like your boyfriend. you crack one eye open and gasp; there’s no way, you must still be dreaming, yeah? you rub your eyes and poke the sleeping figure next to you.

“y/n, love, i missed you too, but can we please go back to sleep?” your boyfriend groans, pulling you closer to him.

you grin, propping yourself up on one elbow to kiss your boyfriend, “you’re here.”

“yes darling, i am here.” he smiles at you, “did you truly think i’d miss your birthday? i tried to get in earlier but there were some other factors that prohibited me from doing so.”

you shake your head and cuddle in closer towards him, “that doesn’t matter, tosh. all that matters is that you’re home.” you frown slightly, “wait, what time did you get home? i was up till like 1 in the morning and didn’t see you come in?”

“that doesn’t matter, love. just go to sleep now.” he shushes you, tracing tiny hearts into the small or your back.

you’re both silent for a couple minutes before you speak up again.

“tosh?” you ask

“yes darling?” he sighs, exhaustion evident in his tone.

“do you mind closing the curtains? i forgot to last night and i won’t be able to sleep with the sunlight coming through.”

“yes darling.” he groans as he gets up to close the curtains.

he finally gets back into bed and you both fall back asleep, dreaming of one another.

gen taglist: fill in the form to be added!

@luvnami @iwaizumean @defnotanotherhaikyuusimp @kybabi @rachel-dg @carameian @tetsusaki @imarizaki @ewitsellaa @heartpopper @arrogantsonofabiscuit @ilovecheese08 @cemeiia @itsmeaudrieee @moonlightangel @omisluvr @1-800-teddybear @devilgirlcrybabiey @crapimahuman @curiouslilbeast @anejuuuuoy @dearkodzuken @sushijimawakatoshi @applepiesbaby @miyadarling

note: bold and italics cannot be tagged!

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

"it’s dark but just a game”, that’s what he would say to me

summary: sugar daddy series: ransom. some spoiling, some fighting, some drunk ransom.

warnings: ransom. mentions of edging. mentions of piercings. mentions of literally every other kind of sex. very slight public sex. i mean, i guess angst, but like not. drunk ransom being a danger to everyone, but especially himself.

word count: around 8,400

relationships: ransom drysdale x reader

a/n: did i need to write this? no. does anyone actually like ransom? also no... i just sincerely couldn’t be stopped. for the record, no cheating is in this fic. also, why do lana songs work so well for ransom? bc he’s a glamourous bitch.

a/n 2: @donutloverxo my last fic starring your fav. just kidding. but really, this is my last sugar daddy fic. i had two others planned that are partially written but will not be done and a bitch does need to start taking her final projects seriously.

Send me a picture.

You begrudgingly climbed out of bed to make your way downstairs. Your father was in the living room, sitting on the very edge of the couch with his hands pressed to his face, his elbows digging into his knees as he watched the news and acting like he had any idea what a difficult life was like. Your mother was in the dining room, magazines, laptop, her purse, and a cocktail surrounded her. She was laughing and talking loudly into her phone, meaning she was drunk.

Both were sufficiently distracted.

You went to the kitchen and grabbed a chair to put in front of the refrigerator. In the cabinet above, that was where the alcohol was. You were playing a drinking game with yourself. The text, send me a picture, was not a rarity and on the bad days, you received it so many times it could get you drunk.

After one shot, you decided a second was a great idea. That was the only reason you decided to be difficult, it just went straight to your head. It gave you the crazy idea that being a problem would get you anything. (Other than a sore ass.)

Why?

It took two entire minutes for the short response to come through—but you knew he had been struggling for those two minutes to come up with even that. Why?

Yes, why? You were not going to back down from the question. You wanted to know, if not just because you were simply a curious person. Why a picture, why not a video? Why now, why not earlier or later? Why am I your preferred coping mechanism?

The next response was much quicker. You’re not.

That simply had to be untrue. He texted you once a day at least, several dozen times when he spent time with his family. Well, ask nicely.

Instead, you received a Venmo notification. Three hundred dollars was gifted to you from the ever-so-kind HRDT-1988—okay, noted; apparently, being mouthy did pay off sometimes.

What do you say?

Well, after last week, and how sweet you had been simply because it was the anniversary of his grandfather’s death, you’d made some good money. You didn’t need to be any more of a brat.

Thank you, daddy. Give me just a sec.

And I want to see your face this time.

Of course. Ransom owned you, basically. It happened three months into this…thing. You didn’t care at the moment. You didn’t mind that he asked for a nude picture with your face in the shot. You didn’t even feel that twisting sensation in your stomach after you had sent it.

Because you trusted Ransom to be Ransom. No, you didn’t think he was too good to show off your pictures, it was that you knew he was too possessive. If he had his way, no other man would ever see you naked.

You peeled your clothing off and climbed back into bed. You weren’t teasing because you knew it would just put him in a mood. There was a signal he gave when he was okay with you teasing, but you had yet to receive it. Ransom appreciated obedience above all else.

You had to be prompt as well. You took only a few pictures and chose the best.

It was around three minutes later that your phone alerted you with another Venmo notification. You never checked how much he sent you, you just knew it was always way too much.

Now I want a video.

Typically. Of what?

Remember the present I gave you yesterday? You can open it now. Put it on and I’ll call you soon.

Ransom enjoyed giving you presents that you weren’t allowed to open immediately. It used to drive you mad but now you were used to it. After three hours of edging one time because he thought you were flirting with a bartender at some gross bar that he took you to, the rest of his tricks paled in comparison.

Inside the box that you stashed away in your closet lay a thin, slinky black romper. It barely covered your ass and the cut down the front was so low that you would fall out of it if you leaned over. You hurried to the bathroom to brush your hair and put on just a little bit of red lipstick.

You patiently sat on the bed in front of your laptop waiting for his call. You were nervous. Kind of. Excited, also. Ransom was cruel and you worried sometimes how much you liked that about him.

He rarely told you to wear black, so you weren’t sure what to expect from him. At parties, he liked black dresses. For dinners, tiny black skirts. Never here. But in the bedroom, he preferred different colors to match the ways he wanted you.

In pink, he liked to bend you over his knee and spank your ass and bury his fingers in you until you were sobbing for his cock.

Red, he would tie you up, knowing it frustrated you immensely when you couldn’t touch him. The things he would say, the way he would tease you. It brought tears to your eyes and your face always felt impossibly hot even hours later.

Purple had him ordering you on your hands and knees so he could fuck you into the mattress until your whole body was nearly numb, until your arms and legs gave out and you were flat against the bed. Until you were both covered in sweat and exhausted.

Light blue made him leave bite marks all over your skin, particularly your ass and inner thighs. He’d never drawn blood, but sometimes he threatened to. You tried not to respond to those.

Dark blue inspired the use of some props, the paddle, the riding crop—you had been worried the first time he used both, but he was good at always making sure he wasn’t too rough with you.

In white, he wanted you on your knees while he was sitting on the edge of his bed or a chair, choking on his cock until he was sure you were on the verge of passing out.

Green was for the money play, making you “earn” your allowance, fake angry accusations that you were just with him for the money—you had used the safe word a couple of times that first time he suggested it, but he was so perfect with aftercare that it was one of your favorites now.

But black? You weren’t sure yet. You had never explored the color black.

You didn’t have more time to dwell because your laptop was sounding off with his call. You answered it immediately.

“Hey, baby.”

He was in his bedroom, the one at his parents’ house. That meant that he was close to you. He lived halfway across town, so it was often that he would spend time at their house. You weren’t allowed to point that out. Any time you pointed out that Ransom might be attached to you, he always tried to dissuade you from those beliefs.

The laptop was on his lap, meaning he could pull himself out of his pants if he wanted. If you asked.

“Hi, daddy,” you returned. “How are you today?”

“Better now. Get up and let me see you.”

You excitedly got back onto your feet and twirled slowly for him. “I love it, daddy, thank you.”

He hummed. “Points for manners, I suppose.”

You sat down. “Did I do something wrong?” An act, he was in a mood. He’d trained you well to his vocabulary, his tone, his schedule. Right now, the noncommittal “I suppose”, the passive voice, and that he’d been at lunch with his parents were all pointing to one thing: you were in for it.

“You took a little long to reply.”

Purposefully. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

“I know, baby, but I have to teach you a lesson, don’t I?”

You nodded. You would have it no other way.

“What do you think I should do?”

You hesitated, despaired at the idea that was about to come out of your mouth. But if you didn’t say it, he was just going to be harsher in his punishment. “Well…maybe you shouldn’t let me come.”

He thought it over. “That sounds tempting… I’m not sure it’s enough. What are you willing to do for me?”

“Anything,” you promised and immediately regretted it.

He smirked. “That was what I wanted to hear.”

“Well, I—”

“You would get the tattoo for me?”

The tattoo. The tattoo… The tattoo. But saying no was against the rules. At least unless you used your safe word. Not that you weren’t currently debating. “Daddy—”

He scoffed. “I’m going to get you to say yes one day.”

You weren’t so sure about that. When he first brought it up, you didn’t want to do it. A year later, you still didn’t want to do it. At first, it was the fear of him basically wanting to brand you. You liked him leaving marks on you now, but you were not deluded enough to think that Ransom Drysdale was going to keep you as his sugar baby forever. A tattoo was forever, it just wasn’t the smartest idea.

“You know what else I want, let me see them.”

You slipped down the straps of your romper and pulled the material down until your breasts were exposed. You knew the direction that this was about to take, and sadly, you weren’t feeling as opposed as you once were.

“Want to make me happy, baby?”

The answer was always yes. Ransom, when he was happy, was perfect. Not that you disliked him when he was in his moods. It was just that your favorite Ransom was sweet Ransom—as rarely as you got to see that.

You nodded.

“Daddy wants you to pierce them.”

You had originally said no to that, too. It had never been something you were interested in. Now, you were only worried about one thing. “You won’t be able to touch them while they’re healing.”

“And that will be fucking torture. But after they heal—fuck.”

Fuck, he was right. “Will you come with me?”

He smiled. “Of course.”

“Okay, then yes.”

“Such a good girl. I might have to let you come just once as a reward.”

He didn’t. After that agreement, he told you to go get your favorite vibrator. You sat before the computer with your legs spread, leaning on the headboard. He watched you for an hour, an entire 60 minutes. He told you to set the vibrator to your clit, but that you’d better pull it away if you were going to come.

So, black was that.

It wasn’t as if you had never said yes to Ransom before without fully considering the situation, but this had to take the cake. He wanted to do it the very next day. So, you were frustrated because he didn’t let you come and now nervous because you heard that this particular piercing hurt. Like, a lot. But you would never say that. Ransom’s favorite hobby, so it seemed was to tease you.

You were lying table, the plastic sticking to your skin every time you moved, top pulled down just under your breasts, in a freezing room. Ransom was next to you, and you knew that his restraint was quickly slipping. Your piercer, Moira, had gone to get the jewelry you selected.

“Daddy,” you scolded gently, pushing his hand away as it moved toward one of your breasts.

“Baby,” he warned. Your body was his and it seemed like you needed the reminder. He would gladly provide that.

“I just meant…not here.”

He glanced at the door before taking backward steps toward it, smirking at you.

“Wait, don’t—”

“She won’t mind. I come here often; she’s known me for too long to give a fuck about anything I do.”

“You come here often?” Ransom Drysdale frequents a tattoo and piercing place? For what? “With other women?”

His hand was on the doorknob, but he froze at your words. “Come on, we don’t talk about things like that.”

“Right, sorry,” you sighed. But no, you weren’t sorry. You had every right to ask that question, especially considering what he had originally asked you to do. “But I think I should know. How many of them have you had branded?”

He turned the lock and walked closer to you again. “Don’t do this, you know I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I don’t want to fight,” you pointed out, “I just want to talk.”

He was at the edge of the table, staring over you. “I don’t want to talk. Not when we could occupy our time with much more pleasant activities.”

He’d seen you naked hundreds of times by now, but it suddenly felt different. You felt like he was staring at you like a mad surgeon would, like he just wanted to take you apart slowly.

He climbed onto the table.

“Wait—”

He continued to move up your body, pushing at your shirt and mouth pressing to the skin just under your navel.

“Please, wait—”

But he didn’t, he kissed up your torso over your shirt and between your breasts as he settled most of his weight on you. He successfully pinned you down, there was no way you could move away from him.

“Daddy, please—”

“Please?” he repeated against your collarbone. He dragged his lips down to your breasts and you shuddered. “Please, what?”

His tongue flicked over your nipple and if not for his body on top of yours, you would have arched your back. Your eyes rolled back, and your hands came up to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair.

It took some getting used to when you first started seeing him. Ransom was always handsy in public and too rich that no one was going to tell him shit. Sometimes, he would drag you into bathrooms, empty rooms, and he would do whatever he pleased with you. Afterward, no one made eye contact with you and they pretended they hadn’t just heard Ransom ruin you.

However, the last thing you wanted to be was just a number. You had never thought this was permanent, but it could be special. You wanted to be special to Ransom because he was special to you. You wanted him to remember you because you had made different memories with him.

You hated when he took you to his favorite restaurants because at first, everyone looked at you in pity. They knew it was just a matter of time before he got rid of you. After a year, now it just looked like they were taking bets. But also critiquing the hell out of you. They wanted to know what made you so significant. And you knew it was nothing. You knew he had gone on dates with prettier, smarter, funnier, more interesting, but for some reason, you’d lasted longer.

Probably your unwavering submission.

There was an abrupt pounding on the door. “Ransom, don’t be a dick. I’m getting off early today and I need to finish this appointment before my next tattoo session.”

He groaned as he climbed off you, taking his sweet ass time walking to the door to let her in. She was tall, with porcelain skin, icy blue eyes, purple hair, and at least a dozen tattoos that you could see. You saw her and immediately wondered, she was pretty…but the way she looked at Ransom, you figured she had a lot more self-respect than you.

She glared at him as she moved to your side and took a seat, he closed the door before he came to your opposite side. “He tells me you’ve been with him for a year…”

“Uh, yeah…a year, a few months now.”

“Why?”

He scowled at her. “Because I can fuck her better than anyone else.”

She rolled her eyes and then glanced at you, identifying immediately that even you couldn’t come up with a reason. It was a mystery at times, but he was sweet. Sweet enough to keep you around, at least.

“You partially blind?” she teased.

You scoffed. “No.”

“Huh…think it’s a brain thing?”

“Maybe,” you admitted.

“Okay,” Ransom cut in, “Can we get this done? Thought you were in a hurry.”

She moved around in silence and he started touching you again. First, it was just your face, small strokes against your cheekbone as he told you about the dinner that he was taking you to that night. Originally, he was going to take you to his place and watch movies with you, but his family had roped him into something or other. You were used to that by now.

Then he moved down and started tracing your lips, all while staring into your eyes. He started to recap all the drama from the night before. Of course, Joni had started picking at him immediately upon his arrival. You didn’t blame her; he was such an ass to his family. Then Linda, as he was now calling her and would until he stopped being so angry at her, was saying he needed to get serious about his life. He needed to settle down, get a job, think about his future.

“Settle down…” you muttered. “Maybe you could hire someone for that.”

“Ha, ha,” he leaned over you and gave you a rough, quick kiss. “Very clever.”

You smiled. “Then what?”

“Oh, the usual…” Richard was agreeing with her, Walt was making his unwarranted comments. That eventually drew Richard’s irritation toward Jacob, and the two men then started comparing sons. You wouldn’t tell Ransom, but you were pretty sure he still held the crown until Jacob had access to a gun.

“Okay,” Moira began, and Ransom fell silent. “Ransom, get out of the way, you’re in the light.”

With a noticeable pout, he stepped back.

“I’m just going to clean your skin,” she sneered at Ransom, “then we’ll mark where I’m going to pierce you.” She did so quickly and directed you to stand. She used her pen to make the marks on your nipples and stepped back. “That look right?”

“Yep,” Ransom claimed.

She made a face at him. “Like you would know.”

He rolled his eyes as soon as she turned around.

“Okay, babe, back up on the table.”

You climbed up and laid down once again.

“Okay, I just need you to breathe the entire time, okay? People try to hold their breath and they think it will help, but it will not. Breathe through it.”

“Okay.”

She glanced at Ransom and arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

He sent her a bitter smile and then moved closer to you again. “Nervous?”

“No.”

“A little?”

“No, not at all.” You just didn’t want him to know, honestly.

“Okay, well, you were supposed to say yes, and I was then going to offer a solution. Let’s pretend that you did say yes, because see, I do have a solution.”

“And what would that be?”

“An orgasm.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Yeah, he has this theory,” Moira informed. “He thinks it won’t hurt if he makes you come.”

“Okay, cool, test it out on someone else,” you snapped.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Just open your legs for me and let me try it out. It’s a theory, okay? Don’t you want to be part of the initial experiment? You like science and all that shit, right?”

“Telling you to not drink with your prescription painkillers after you broke your ankle last summer is not liking science, it’s being smart enough to listen to professionals.”

“Don’t you want to help people? You’re into that shit, aren’t you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Helping people, how?”

“Imagine, all the sad people who can’t get piercings because they are terrified it’s going to hurt—”

“I’m one of those people,” you hissed. “Now, shut up, you’re not helping!”

He just stared at you for a moment, you never spoke to him that way. He knew then that you had to be nervous since you, possibly the smartest woman he knew, damn well knew that taking that tone would normally get you bent over his knee.

“Okay, I understand you’re tense—”

You cut him off with a glare.

“Just let me try it,” he pleaded. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll buy you something stupid and expensive.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to Moira. “He told you that he wanted to try this?”

“He’s been talking about it for a few months. Told me that he was so close to getting his girl to agree to get a piercing or tattoo. I applaud you for holding out this long and I hope you get everything you want in life for having told him no for an entire year. He deserves much worse.”

Ransom glared at her again.

Okay, now, maybe you were a small and petty person…but you had been convinced that Ransom had to have been seeing other women the entire time you were seeing him. It just didn’t make sense that he wouldn’t be. This did not disprove that, however, it did provide evidence that you were getting exactly what you wanted. Special, unique memories. He hadn’t done this with anyone else and maybe this was weird, but now you were on board.

“Okay, fine. Just do this, I want to go home.”

He excitedly climbed onto the table and lifted your hips over his lap, separating your legs but holding onto your skirt. You liked that about Ransom, he wasn’t some idiotic man who could not conceive the idea that a woman would steal you away from him. He was serious about no one else seeing any part of your body that he felt ownership over—that meant anything covered by your underwear. Not that he didn’t enjoy dressing you in barely-there clothing and showing you off to his friends.

He started first, hand sliding up your thigh until he reached your pussy. You shifted a little, eyes closing as you breathed.

“Okay, like that,” Moira instructed. “Just please remember to keep breathing.”

Long story short, you did breathe. Ransom did make you come, once just seconds before the first one, and because he knew it didn’t work the first time, he told Moira to wait until you were finishing the second time to proceed with the final piercing.

You were panting, arm pressed to your forehead, and they were both watching you curiously. Moira knew, by the tension in your hand that was gripping Ransom’s forearm, his theory had not worked as far as you were concerned.

“Well?” Ransom prompted.

“No,” you snapped. “Ass.”

He gave Moira a look. “Give us a moment.”

“This is my room.”

“Well, get a different one.”

“My god,” she muttered, tapping your arm on the way out. “Okay, honey, left you all the pamphlets on the counter. Call me if you have any questions. Ransom, don’t touch them.”

When the door shut, you finally opened your eyes to glare at him.

He frowned. “I’m sorry, I thought it would work.”

“You just made me come twice in front of a fucking stranger because you thought it would work?”

“Don’t be a prude. She pierces and tattoos all kinds of body parts, she was fine.”

“You are such an ass, and I am not going to dinner with you tonight.”

“Look, I get that you are upset because you’re in pain, but enough with the attitude. Also, yes, you are going to dinner with me. You can’t let me deal with those people alone.”

“These really hurt, Hugh.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

He wasn’t going to do shit to you today, and you felt okay in taking advantage of that. You were not allowed to call him Hugh, ever. The only other time you tried it was in the middle of an argument and he had you choking on his cock before you had even fully understood what a huge mistake you had made.

You shoved at his forearm. “Hugh.”

“Stop it,” he warned.

“Why, Hugh?”

“I’m going to have to punish you if you don’t stop. And trust me, the headache Joni is going to give you with all that bullshit essential oils talk will dull this pain.”

“No, I am not going with you.”

“Yes, you are. And if you tell me no one more time, tonight is not going to be as fun as it could be.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “I am not having sex with you tonight. I am in pain, Hugh!”

“Okay, okay,” he sighed. “We’ll go to dinner, then we can watch the scary movies.”

You laid there, glaring up at the ceiling. “You don’t care about me.”

“Yes, I do,” he argued.

“Or my feelings, or the fact that I am in a lot of pain right—”

He cut you off by shoving two of his fingers inside your pussy, your words stopping immediately just so you could moan. He leaned over you, careful not to touch your chest as he kissed you. He curled his fingers up hard, slowly, each time getting your body to jerk forward, desperate for more, desperate to be filled with his cock.

Your hands came up to his face and you pushed his away. As he sat down, you climbed on top of him and wrestled his pants out of your way. The entire time, he never stopped fucking you with his fingers and you were seeing stars, either from the pain or from your impending orgasm.

You didn’t stop until his cock was out and you were situated over his lap. He moved his fingers so you could slide down on his length. You wrapped your arms around his neck, rolling your hips against him, taking his cock deeper each time.

“Come on, baby, leave some marks.”

He loved letting you leave marks, scratches, bites, hickeys, because Linda fucking hated it. Linda, more accurately, hated you, and that was probably another reason Ransom had kept you around this long.

You kissed him, catching his bottom lip between your teeth. You had bitten him hard enough before that you left a bruise once. It hadn’t been intentional, but it wasn’t like he was wrong when he said that he fucked you better than anyone else. Ever since then, Ransom did whatever he could to get you to leave behind all types of marks.

Ransom had you in the thinnest black dress without a bra. Why? Because it was very clear that your nipples were now pierced. As soon as Linda saw you, she was already downing her glass of wine, but when she saw that, she started to choke.

Ransom smiled at you and then kissed you until his family was complaining. Joni swooped in the second he pulled away from you.

“Oh dear,” she sighed, “we don’t blame you. He’s just such a beast, isn’t he?”

Yes. You were trapped in a conversation with Richard, Joni, and Meg when you realized it had been a long time since Ransom annoyed you. Searching the room for him, you found that his mother had taken him aside and was hissing things at him as she tried to adjust his shirt to hide all the marks you’d made on his neck. He looked immeasurably pleased with himself.

You were free of him until dinner started, the rest of his family members taking up all your time so Linda could continue to harass him. But as soon as the family had gathered around the table, he was already shamelessly touching you. It started with his arm around your shoulders, then his opposite hand in your lap where you were toying with his fingers and tracing the lines of his palms.

Comparatively, it was tame for you and Ransom, but Linda still glared the entire time regardless. As everyone engaged in their typical conversations, more bickering and thinly-veiled provocation, Ransom relayed his conversation with his mother to you.

“See?” he pressed. “Harlot has a nice ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not asking you to get my fucking name on your ass or something.”

You snorted. “What tattoo do you even want me to get?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, don’t waste your time because it’s never going to happen.”

“We will see,” he insisted.

You shook your head at him. “Ransom, after today, never.”

“Never say never.”

“Don’t, you know I hate that saying. You just said never. You had to say ‘never’ to say, ‘never say never’, you are saying that you should ‘never’ say never, it’s hypocritical and stupid.”

He scoffed. “I’m just saying, eventually, I convince you to do everything I want. Like, today, for example.”

“I wanted to do that, you didn’t convince me to do anything.”

“Oh, please.”

“How about we get matching ones?”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, if I’m going to permanently disfigure my body, you should have to do the same.”

“Tattoos are a disfiguration?” he challenged.

“They are if you’re the reason behind them.”

“Don’t be complicated, baby. Tattoos on men look different.”

You made a face. “Don’t even try that.”

“I don’t want tattoos.”

“I don’t want a tattoo.”

“It would look hot on you, it just wouldn’t make sense on me.”

“Well, baby, if you’re not going to compromise, neither am I.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

“Y/N,” Linda called out, gaining your attention. “What have you been up to lately? Are you still unemployed?”

Her son paid you for pictures of your pussy. Though you couldn’t put that on a job application, it was hardly unemployed. So, you simply smiled and nodded. “Mhm, still looking for the perfect fit.”

“Is Dad still unemployed?” Ransom shot back.

Richard hardly did anything when it came down to it, not that Linda would ever let him. She had no faith in him, and you didn’t think she was being unreasonable. He’d tried to flirt with you at least 7 times over the past year, obviously, the man wasn’t all that intelligent.

His parents glared at him.

“Ransom, don’t be a dick,” Joni scolded. “Everyone here works hard.”

“Right,” he scoffed. “How are those lawsuits coming along, Joni? Get anyone to settle yet?”

You pinched his thigh and leaned close to whisper. “Calm down, no one has even started eating yet. We have at least two more hours here.”

“I’m just wondering what your plans are,” Linda explained.

You set your hand to Ransom’s thigh to communicate that he better at least remain on his best behavior. It shouldn’t be too hard since his best behavior was anyone else’s worst behavior. “Honestly, I have none. At all. Not a single thing planned out.”

She gripped the wine glass in her hand tighter. “I need you to understand, this is a family of excellence.”

Ransom snorted.

“My son, though he makes mistake after fucking mistake, is supposed to be doing something with his life right now. You are younger than him, you are simply not in the same stage of life as him. He needs to start getting serious—”

“Linda,” Harlan cut in. “We don’t need to have this conversation in front of guests.”

“No, we do because this guest is ruining my son’s life,” she barked back. “My son should be married right now, or at least seriously committed to someone. He should not be wasting his time with you, who, let’s just be honest, will leave him as soon as someone with more money comes along.”

You looked at Ransom. “Does anyone have more money than you people?”

He considered that. “No one as attractive as me.”

“Point,” you admitted. “But are they better in bed?”

He gave you a flat look. “No. No one else is into the weird shit you’re into—”

“Okay,” Linda snapped, “I was talking, and I’m not finished. I will not be finished until you realize that this relationship is pointless and is making everyone miserable.”

“I kinda like it,” Meg claimed. “If they break up, can we swap her out for Ransom?”

“I would second that,” Harlan echoed. “If we wanted to vote on the matter, or something.”

Meg smiled at you and nodded. “Marry him and then kill him. You can stay in the family like my mom and me.”

“That does sound pretty tempting,” you said.

“Okay,” Ransom cut in before Linda could say anything else. “I actually have a surprise. I was going to wait until after dinner, but since some people insist on people in my business, why not now?”

“I swear, if it’s an engagement ring,” Linda muttered, turning to Richard.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and started shaking his head.

You turned to him. “Obviously not a ring, but is it jewelry? I’ve been wanting a new necklace for a while.”

“Not quite.” He reached across the table and Meg tossed him a set of keys. He held them out to you.

“Your…keys?”

“Your keys,” he corrected.

“My keys? What do you…?” You trailed off one second, then you were on your feet the next second. “You got me a car?!”

“He got her a car!” Linda screeched to Richard.

“Parked it out front,” Meg informed.

You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dragged him through the house. Even in your skin-tight dress and stiletto heels, you were on a mission that no one could stop. You shoved the door open and rushed outside.

Ransom was following only to catch you if those heels decided to give out on you.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the tiny sleek, baby pink sports car. “Oh my god!” You turned back to him. “You bought me a car?!”

“Yeah.”

“You bought me a pink car?!”

“It appears so.”

You ran back to him, throwing yourself into his arms. “Daddy, I love it so much! Thank you, thank you.” You pulled back just to grab his face with both hands and kiss him. This. This was what Ransom did. Not just spend money on you, though that was enjoyable every time, but it was always so personal. He knew what you liked, and he paid attention to the smallest details that most people wouldn’t even remember.

“So…tattoo?”

“I don’t know,” you huffed. “Maybe.” How could you say no after this?

“I’ll ask again after you see inside.”

“Inside?” you repeated, pulling out of the hug to hurry back to your car. You eagerly unlocked it and tore open the door. “Holy shit!” Inside was the same color, only everything was sparkly or furry. And whatever couldn’t be pink was either silver or black.

That was around the time that the rest of the family had gathered outside.

“Oh, god,” Donna breathed, sneering at the car.

“What an interesting color choice,” Joni started, unsure of how to proceed because clearly, she was not a fan.

“Enough, enough of this madness!” Linda yelled. “He is cheating on you!”

Almost everyone groaned. Seriously, what an unoriginal way to get a couple to break up? You expected much more from a woman as rich and dramatic as Linda.

“He went on a date with Cassidy last Friday!” she insisted.

Last Friday. Ransom had planned to take you out to dinner, but he canceled last minute. You knew Cassidy, she had stalked you on social media for months before you and Ransom were even officially…whatever it was that you two were. As far as you knew, she was Ransom’s only serious relationship, in fact, she had ended it. But no, he would not do that.

Yet, he remained silent. His entire family was staring at the two of you and he said nothing. You turned back to him expectantly and he looked very much like a puppy that had just been kicked. He had long ago perfected that look because he knew it always worked with you.

Not this time. “Did you go out with Cassidy?”

“Baby,” he started, “Listen—”

“Are you fucking serious?!” you demanded.

“No, listen to me—”

“You are unbelievable! After today, and you’re still fucking trying to talk me into the tattoo? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a fucking sociopath!?”

“No, you need to calm down—”

“I don’t have to do anything! You went out with her; I should fucking kill you!”

At that time, most of the family had the decency to start heading back inside. Meg and Jacob first, pretending that they had a truly riveting conversation with Harlan that needed to be finished back in the house. Donna, Walt, and Joni were relieved that they didn’t have to be the firsts to move and quickly followed the children.

Linda stayed until Ransom shot her a glare. “Ugh, fine. I’m going to be watching from the window anyway.”

You didn’t care what he said, nothing was ever going to make this situation okay or even somewhat forgivable, but you had a right to know why.

He stepped closer once his mother was gone, but you stepped back. “Stop, are you seriously going to let her get under your skin like that?”

“It’s not your mother that did this, Ransom. You lied to me. You went on a date with Cassidy.”

He was stunned that you used his name. Sure, you had called him Hugh earlier and that always annoyed the fuck out of him coming from you, but it wasn’t the same. Ransom. He hadn’t heard you say his name in so long. “Jealousy is not a good look on you, baby.”

Nope, you were done with him. You were more than just done, you were never going to speak to him ever again. Literally, not another word. The keys in your hands felt heavy enough to get your attention. Right. Car. You now owned a car. You did what any other furious, petty person would have.

You jumped into the car and locked it. It only took you a few seconds to figure out how to get everything started, and Ransom was already yanking on the door handle to try to get it open. Because that was logical, your mother was right, he was an idiot.

Without even a glance in his direction, you were speeding off in your brand new pink car. And yes, you angry cried the entire way home. What should have been a beautiful moment where you celebrated your new car and Ransom was marred because he was a complete dick.

So, no one could ever accuse you of making fully thought-out, well-planned decisions, but this was something else entirely. You’d left your purse at the Thrombeys’ mansion, and well, it wasn’t like you could go get it. You were sure that Ransom had taken it anyway and was surely holding it hostage.

Problem was, inside your purse was your god damn phone. However, you were an optimist. At least Ransom could phone-stalk you, right? Speaking of holding things hostage, your car was currently locked up in the garage and your keys were stashed under your bed. He would get that car back over your dead body.

At the end of the day, you were in love with it.

It had been four days and you were still moping around in your bedroom, refusing to tell your parents why. Your cynical—but correct—mother assumed that it was about Ransom. It annoyed her to no end that you would be wasting time feeling anything for that man, at least that was what you heard her tell your father when you tried to sneak downstairs for food.

It was four nights later that you were innocently in your room, just watching a movie when you heard knocking at your window. Rightfully so, it scared the hell out of you since you were on the second floor of the house.

You tiptoed to the window, carefully pushing the blinds aside to see if you could see whoever was out there before they saw you. Why you hadn’t thought it was Ransom was more of wishful thinking. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Why couldn’t he just let this entire fake relationship die with dignity?

But seriously, how the hell was he at your window? You tore your curtains aside and shoved your window open. “What the hell? What are you doing up here?”

He leaned away from the window a little and stumbled back a few steps, and that was when you realized he was drunk.

You grabbed onto his arm. “Ransom! How the hell did you even get up here?!”

“I had help.”

“Help!? Who would help you?!”

He thrust his arm back dramatically and you leaned around him to see a snickering Meg and Jacob in the front seat of Meg’s Jeep.

“Oh my god, you could have died. Get inside, right now.”

“Okay,” was all he said.

You kept a tight hold on him as he struggled to climb into your window, and only let him go when you had seated him on the floor. You shut your window, pulled the curtains down, and then faced him again. “Okay, you have to be very quiet. My parents are home and if they know that you are in here, they are going to freak out.”

“You weren’t answering my calls.”

“I don’t have my phone.”

“Oh, right… I have your phone. At my house. That’s why Meg and Jacob were laughing so much.”

“You being here is not okay. And being at my window instead of the front door is super not okay. You could have really been hurt, you could have hurt Meg or Jacob.”

“They just held the ladder—”

“You climbed a ladder drunk?!”

He nodded.

“That’s not okay, Ransom!”

He put his finger to his lips and shushed you.

Your eyes widened at him. “Excuse me?”

“You just told me to be quiet, but I’m pretty sure everyone in the world heard you because you are yelling really loud right now.”

“I’m calling your parents to come get you.”

“No, wait—”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“But I have something to say.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“But it’s really, super important.”

You huffed and sat on your bed, facing him. “Fine, you should just say it. Not that it matters because you lying to me is never going to be okay. I trusted you and you lied to me, and why? It wasn’t like I thought you weren’t screwing other women. But why the fuck would you buy me a car then?”

“Because I’m not fucking anyone else.”

“Except Cassidy.”

“No, not even her.”

“Then why did you go out with her?”

“You have to promise you’re not going to get mad.”

“I’m already mad and nothing is going to change that.”

“She was pregnant.”

Your eyes widened. Pregnant. Even if she was just about due, that would be 9 months. You had been seeing him longer than 9 months. “How is that supposed to help anything?!”

“Not Friday. She wasn’t pregnant then, she was pregnant about two years ago. And…she thinks it was mine.”

“It?” you snapped. “Ransom, what the fuck? You know how I feel about useless fathers—”

“She got an abortion.”

“Wait, wait…she thinks it was yours?”

“Yeah, she was cheating on me.”

“Then why did you go out with her?!”

“It was…it would have been her due date on Friday. She gets weird around that date sometimes… It didn’t feel right telling her that I couldn’t see her, and it didn’t feel right explaining this all to you over the phone.”

“So, you decided to do it drunk? Much better, great idea.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you had told me this the other day—”

“You wouldn’t listen.”

Okay, he had a point there, but no. He was still totally at fault here, you were not going to apologize for reacting the way you did. “Because you lied to me, and you didn’t tell me about it after. Your mom had to tell me.”

“I’m sorry, things were going so well with us. I didn’t want you to worry about nothing.”

“That’s not nothing.”

“It is nothing because I don’t even have feelings for her anymore.”

You rolled your eyes. “I really doubt that.”

“No, I have feelings for you.”

“Don’t, okay? You were my sugar daddy, we weren’t even really dating.”

“Yes, we were,” he argued. “You know we were, you’re just trying to make it seem like it wasn’t that serious. But it was. It was really serious.”

“We shouldn’t even be having this conversation while you’re drunk, okay?”

“You’re still mad.”

“Yes, I’m still mad. I’m mad that you got me the most perfect car, that you made me get these fucking piercings, which still hurt, by the way, that you were trying to talk me into the tattoo, and you had lied to me not even a week before.”

“But I have feelings for you.”

“That doesn’t fix everything.”

“Does this?” he quickly sat up and started pulling his shirt over his head.

You stood up, turning your head and throwing your hands out in front of you. “Are you serious?! You’re trying to have sex with me right now?”

“Nooo,” he sighed, and you heard him noisily sit back down on the floor.

You turned to him cautiously, letting your hands fall as soon as you saw black ink standing out harshly against his pale skin. Your name. The blank ink on Ransom’s chest, on the left side no less, was your name.

Your mouth dropped.

“I got it done tonight.”

“While you were drunk!?”

“No, I wasn’t this drunk a few hours ago.”

“Oh my god, Ransom. You are going to regret that in the morning.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Not ever.”

You rolled your eyes. “I cannot believe you did this. All of this. I cannot believe the lying, the car, and now this fucking tattoo.”

“Well, I wanted this fucking tattoo.”

You glared. “No, you didn’t. You just don’t like being dumped.”

“Ha!” He pointed at you. “So, you admit this was a real relationship?”

“Was,” you relented. “Not anymore.”

Huffing again, he rolled over so he was on his hands and knees.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He was quickly crawling toward you and you were so caught off guard that you didn’t start moving until it was too late. He wrapped his arms around your legs and sat down next to your feet.

“Are you crazy?! Let me go.”

“No. Not until you forgive me.”

“I will never forgive you.”

“Then I’m never letting go.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ransom…”

He turned up to you. “Please? I’ll buy you another car. Two more cars. A car and a house. A car, a house, and a puppy—”

“Stop, you don’t have to buy me things—”

“I like buying you things.” When you said nothing, he started to reach upward, until he had his hand in the pocket of your jeans, then he was tugging you down.

“Stop it,” you scolded, but he didn’t. “Ransom, stop it.”

“Stop calling me Ransom.” He continued until your hands were in his reach and then he tugged you down and practically tackled you onto the floor. “I’m not letting go until you forgive me.”

“Get off me!”

“No.”

“You’re insane!”

“That is probably true.”

“Ugh!” You finally stopped struggling in his arms and just laid there, letting him crush you to the floor. “You’re such a jerk.”

“I know, but I’m really sorry about it.”

“Yeah, until you’re sober.”

He leaned up so he could stare down at you. “No, I’ll be sorry then, too. I was sorry since the second you drove off.”

You were less interested in what he was saying at that moment and more interested in your name over his fucking chest. “Did it hurt?”

“Kind of.”

You huffed. “Ransom…”

He sighed, exasperated. “I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“That’s your name. Are you seriously so drunk you don’t remember your name?”

“If you give me another chance, I will never lie to you again. I will never go on a date with anyone else, not just Cassidy, but everyone else that I know. Man or woman, they can call fuck off.”

You snorted. “Okay, that’s a little dramatic.”

“I really like you, baby. I was lost these past few days not being able to see you or talk to you.”

“Okay, if I agree to give you one more chance, will you get the fuck off me?”

He nodded, smiling. “But you have to pinky promise.”

“Okay, but for the record, if you ever do anything like this again, I’m going to tell your family about everything that has happened since you stepped into this room. You’re like a five-year-old, Ransom.”

“Deal.” He sat up and held his hand out to you.

It took you a moment to help him figure out which finger was his pinky, but he seemed satisfied with your promise, nonetheless. “Also, I am not getting a tattoo for you.”

“That’s okay. I’m going to convince you too when we’re married.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh, now I’m marrying you?”

He nodded. “Mhm.”

You snorted, the thought of him recalling this conversation in the morning was hilarious. He would be terrified that he was showing even an ounce of commitment. “Great.”

“You’re really pretty in white.”

You rolled your eyes. “Are you tired yet? Can we just,” you gestured to your bed, “Sleep?”

He considered it for a moment. “Only if you stop calling me Ransom.”

“Fine.” Getting him off the floor and onto the bed was another grand task. And when you decided to get him a glass of water and aspirin, he freaked out and accused you of trying to leave him. Once you reminded him that this was your bedroom, he seemed calm enough that you could escape to your bathroom for ten seconds.

Thankfully, he was unconscious the second you had settled onto the bed next to him. He just rolled over, laid his head on your stomach, and then he was out like a light.

Fuck.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @kleohoneyao3​ @cevans-fics​ @gotnofucks​ @sweet-pieces-of-nothing @dbnightingale24​ @first-jumper-tris46

ransom tags:

@la-cey​

[sagemusesoutloud]

Anti-Romantic, Part 1

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff WordCount | 3.6 K Author'sNote | lmaoooo the fact that I intended this to be a oneshot type of thing oops. Wellllll, I tried. Most likely to be a two part series, but we'll see.

This is part of a series I intend to call "If Songs were Fics" and this particular one was loosely inspired by TXT's Anti-Romantic bc I'm obsessed. I hope you enjoy reading as much I enjoyed writing it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I don't know who loves me

And I don't care, It's a waste anyways

A romantic feeling, Kinda scares me

“Any plans for you birthday next week?”

Jaehyun shakes his head at you, “no, not yet, don’t you have that date with that barista?”

“I’m not sure, he’s been acting weird over text lately. Might not be worth it,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s your birthday! You only get one of those a year, we should plan something.”

You were on your way to the gym, a ritual you and Jaehyun had ever since you both found out you worked for the same company. You had been childhood friends, but ended up losing touch since you went to separate universities.

It was a nice surprise to see a friendly face on the first day of orientation and throughout the duration of your training for the next six weeks. Although you were both from different departments, you enjoyed taking your lunch breaks together and sharing small gossip about your old class-mates.

“ugh, don’t remind me,” he let’s out a long sigh, “every year, it seems like my family won’t stop pestering me about starting a family.”

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“Nothing, just not for me. Or at least not yet. I don’t think I’m the type to settle down,” he shrugs again as if it were no big deal.

You gasp, “how could you say that? I’ve seen your insta account. It’s got your cousin’s kids all over it!” You stop to take a good look at him as he holds the door of the gym open for you. “Back in school too, you used to tutor those elementary kids for volunteering hours. Even when you didn’t need them. You’ve always liked kids.”

“That’s different…”

“Right. Totally different things. Got it,” you roll your eyes. This wasn’t the first time he mentioned not wanting to settle down. At first, you had thought it was because he liked ‘keeping his options open’ like back in high-school. Or, not that you knew for sure, but if the rumors were true then it meant he slept his way around. Apparently, he never slept with someone twice and despite the cold shoulder the other party would get, all you had ever heard were praises. Not that you paid that much attention or anything.

You and Jaehyun had the same circle of friends, but despite that, he had never made any advances towards you. You’d be lying if that didn’t bother you at least once or twice. You just assumed that he didn’t want to make the friendship awkward or mess with the friend dynamics of your group. Which was why your crush on him in junior high ended as soon as you got to high-school.

You ended up going on dates with other people, but nothing that kept your interest. Nothing that compared to how you felt around him. Not that he seemed to think the same, so you tried your best to stay the good friend you always have been. You didn’t want to push something he clearly didn’t want; not that it didn’t hurt any less. Throughout the years it’s become bearable, at least. Almost like a painful habit.

You check in and head to the locker rooms to change. His nonchalance about the subject had always puzzled you. You’d seen first hand how all the female coworkers seemed to sway their hips as they walked by him, how some would pop a blouse button more than usual when around him, and you swore no one else was getting that much help throughout training more than him. He was handsome and a gentleman, that much was painfully obvious.

You meet him outside by the water fountain, “ready for warm-up?” he guides your way to the treadmills.

“When’s the last time you dated?”

You would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked to see him trip from the corner of your eye. “why the sudden curiosity?” He finally responds.

“Not sudden, I’d always wondered.” You defended. “You’re good looking and you’re very…I mean, you live on your own and have your own car. You have good relations with your family AND you’re good with kids. So, what is it?” You hadn’t realized how troubling you thought it all was. But now that you started digging you couldn’t stop.

“I just—” you pause, “it doesn’t make sense.”

You hear him chuckle, “you might wanna slow down before you pull something.” You look down and realize that your pace had gone from a relaxed jog to a borderline run during your rant. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to psychoanalyze your only friend in the city.

“Well, I just don’t know how to let people in. It’s just that.” He finally responds. “I love kids, but I don’t know or think I’d be a good partner.” He slows down before stopping, ending the conversation. He waves you off with an easy smile as you stay running.

Huh, maybe you pushed him too far. Your eyes can’t help but follow him around the gym.

Sweet and bitter chocolate, The taste at the end is always the same

Like the saddest movies, Only tears in my eyes

Your hands were sweaty the entire morning, anticipating your lunch time. It was his birthday today, and while you hadn’t made any concrete plans you ended up agreeing to go over to his place after work. Your gym bag was ready with snacks and comfy clothes to stay over. You remembered him saying he was excited to watch that new Marvel movie that had recently come out so you had bought it online to stream it at his place as a surprise. But what had you nervous was the small heart shaped box sitting in your purse. You didn’t know what possessed you to buy it but you had immediately thought of Jae when you passed by it at the mall. You remember vaguely mentioning that it was a special occasion to the sales lady (as in, his birthday), but she must have thought it was your significant other rather than friend because she changed the box to the red velvet shaped one while giving you a wink. In her defense, you could have protested but…why didn’t you?

You hear a knock on your door, “hey little miss sunshine.” Ah, Nakamoto, this couldn’t be good news. He was only sickly sweet to you when he needed a favor.

“What do you want?” you deadpan. He only laughs as he makes himself comfortable in your office. “Well, nothing in particular. Can’t stop by and see how you’re doing?” he feigns hurt.

“Right—the last time you ‘came by’ you left me working over-time through the weekend,” You sigh, “so what is it this time? Missed meeting? Late proposal?” To be fair, your supervisor WAS overworked sometimes. And since you were the only worker under him, it was normal for him to sometimes share some of the load with you.

He smiles at you, “nope. Just have a proposal for you. I know you’ve been working hard these past few months and I’ve been really impressed by your work ethic.” He stands and moves closer to your desk, “And I thought some sort of reward was in order, as well as celebration.” Ok, now you’re confused. You were ok with the reward part, it usually came in the form of a gift card to your favorite coffee shop, but celebration?

“Why would we celebrate? Did I miss something?”

“Not yet, but I did recommend you to the partner position with me. And I wanted to be the first to tell you that the boss approved it earlier today. So, what do ya say? Dinner on me?” he extends his hand out to you and wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

Oh.

Shit! You were hoping this would happen eventually, moving up from the entry-level position you had. But you had never thought it would be this fast. “Oh my gosh, are you serious?” You give him your hand and he shakes it in mock salute.

“Of course, some people will come by to move your computer to the office next to mine. You start Monday!” he winks, “So, wanna go to that new rooftop restaurant? This is a once in a life-time ticket, so you best say yes.”

But your dinner with Jae…He’ll understand, right? He has to. It’s not like he seemed that excited about it anyway. And you could always spend the day together tomorrow, too. It would be pretty rude to turn down Yuta after he pulled some strings for you…

You smile at him, “Thank you Mr. Nakamoto, I won’t let you down as a partner. Yeah, dinner sounds great. Wanna meet there?”

You sit down on the small table, now nervous for other reasons.

Jae sits opposite of you, a small smile on his face. “Hey you,” he greets.

“hey…” you start, “I hate to change plans so suddenly, but…” crap, you feel really shitty. But you really were between a rock and a hard place.

“everything ok?”

“yeah, no. I actually just got promoted,” you start.

“You did? That’s awesome! So fast, too. Wow—but shouldn’t you be more enthusiastic about it?” he chuckles.

“I am, just—my old supervisor wanted to go to dinner to celebrate. And I don’t think I could say no after helping me out like that.”

“I mean, did you want to skip it or?” Now he’s confused.

“Well, he wanted to go out tonight since I start Monday and today’s Friday…I don’t think I can come over tonight,” you explain.

Realization crosses his features before he gives a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, you’re fine. And he’s treating you! You don’t know when the next time he offers might be,” he continues, “we can celebrate another day anyway.”

“Are you sure?” now you feel like shit.

“Of course I’m sure.”

For the rest of the lunch, a thick silence settles before he excuses himself back to work.

Jaehyun knew this was coming. Nothing ever went his way; it’s why he kept everyone at a distance from his heart. But he was weak when it came to you. This game of push and pull was bound to keep happening, and it only brought him that all familiar foul taste in his mouth.

I know, that sweet love song, Those words of promise

When you turn around, It's just an unfamiliar someone

It was why he decided to go else-where for university, instead of joining you and some of your friends to the one closest to home. He chose to go across the globe—far, far away from the curse of you.

It had started on a windy day, back when you were 4 and new to the town he grew up in. Jaehyun didn’t want to leave his mother’s arms, he didn’t like the thought of being with strangers until later in the day even if his mom promised that she would be back. A little girl with jean overalls like his came up to him and his mom, “why are you crying?”

“I am not!” he sniffed. He didn’t need to make new friends like his mom was trying to tell him. All he needed was to go back home. You took out something from your pocket and showed it to him, “look, my mom said I could give one to my first friend. She said it was sharing. Want one?”

In her little palm, were two kiss chocolates. “You’re not my friend,” he grumbled, “I don’t know your name.” At that, you giggled, “I’m Y/N!” you took his hand and placed a chocolate there, “there, now we’re officially friends.”

“See, Jae? You can spend some time with Y/N and have fun. Before you know it, I’ll be back,” she promised.

“Yeah, Jae! Come play blocks with me, and then we can try the coloring.” You held his hand as you led him deeper into the classroom. Just like that, Jae began to feel a little warmth in his chest. He didn’t mind that his favorite thing to do was play tag outside or that he wasn’t really good at coloring inside lines yet. But that didn’t matter to him. As long as he had this one friend around, he was content.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I want to run far away

My heart that already chases after you, Blazes up as a small flame

Looking back at it now, it was a little funny. All it took to let you in back then was a simple chocolate kiss and your little sticky hand in his leading the way. You were always larger than life to him, sometimes he forgot that you were just as human as him.

As you two continued to grow, nothing seemed to change your friendship. But he knew that the depth of his feelings wasn’t mutual. It was in the way that you brought a lot different people together and decided to call it your family. Another of your friends, Jungwoo, liked to joke that you collected introverts for fun. To Jaehyun, it was more likely that you just didn’t see the fun in leaving people out. You were charming and passionate. Traits he wished he had. Your empathetic nature and gentle disposition were all that Jaehyun needed, even if he wasn’t the only recipient.

Once you guys started to hit puberty, things started to feel rocky. Jaehyun couldn’t help but physically distance himself from you, his ears were always red-hot. You had always been pretty to Jaehyun, but you were starting to become really beautiful. And if the boy’s locker rooms’ talk were anything to go by, then other people were definitely starting to realize “what a great catch” you were.

It really pissed him off. Who were they to say things as if all you were was a piece of meat? It disgusted him. But what disgusted him more was the fact that sometimes, he couldn’t help but also feel the way your body felt in his when you hugged in greeting. He hated the way his body reacted to everything you did.

He first messed around with a senior girl back when he was a sophomore, Sooyoung. She was leaving and he couldn’t take it anymore. Your boyfriend was a piece of trash and he was tired of hearing the way he would share what Jae considered to be intimate moments that had no business being public. But you seemed so happy… that next game, Jae stole the ball from him and scored on his own. Even if it cost him a three hour lecture from the coach, he would do it again. Fuck being a team, that guy was an asshole.

What he hadn’t planned on was liking messing around. He would never admit it, but the reason he couldn’t commit was because he couldn’t get rid of that small grain of hope that glowed in his chest every time you stared at him longer than would be deemed normal. It wasn’t often, but he knew he wasn’t seeing things. So, he succumbed to the cycle of push-and-pull that you guys had going on.

Jaehyun wasn’t blind, he knew that your work definitely spoke of your professionalism, but he’s also seen the way Nakamoto stared after you. Of the way his hand would often touch your waist when walking together. Even now, as he hears you apologize through the phone again as you get ready for your “date” with him he can’t help this heart feel heavy with anger. Anger at himself, for letting you slip away once more. He usually hopes for nothing but the best for you, but this time, he wishes you had an awful dinner.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I don't believe in romance

I'm afraid that after burning my whole heart, It will only leave behind ashes

Throughout the entire dinner, you can’t seem to get Jae out of your mind. It keeps you from enjoying the delicious food, keeps you from keeping your usual banter with Nakamoto.

You’re about to call it a night and thank Nakamoto for inviting you out when he beats you to it, “damn, I was hoping this might be a good break from the usual overtime we do, but something tells me your mind has been elsewhere,” he offers good naturedly, “I know it’s valentine’s, so maybe this is why we feel so awkward, right?”.

You grimace a bit at that, “ah—I’m sorry. I really am grateful for the way you look after me in the company and I’m also thankful for this lovely dinner,” you stop a bit, afraid you might offend him, “I agreed to come out tonight, so no need to feel awkward.” You offer a smile.

“Alright then. I guess you already have your sights on someone?” he prods. Should you be honest? There was no rule against dating outside your department, and you were pretty sure your new boss’s wife also worked within the company. “…I do. But I’m pretty sure they don’t feel the same way. It’s been so long since we’ve known each other. Surely if something were to have happened, it would have by now.” You were loosening up, definitely the wine’s fault.

Nakamoto sighs at that, “damn, and here I thought I could woo you after this,” he winks jokingly but you laugh him off. You knew he didn’t care for you that way. “I really hope you’re talking about the guy you always eat lunch with. I swear everyone thought you guys were married when you were released from training.”

“What?! No, I—we’ve been friends since we were children—”

“Aha! So it was him then,” he smirks. “Good.”

You groan, “Please, no.”

“What, it’s not him? You sure about that?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement,” you groan. Why were you discussing your love life? You push the wine away and take a sip of your water.

“Hmm. That’s too bad. Could have sworn that guy was after you.” He stands up. “But fine, I’ll stop prodding.”

You sigh in relief—“for now.” You groan. “What do you even mean by that? You don’t even know him. Or me, or at least personally at least.”

“Mmm, I don’t have to. Some things you just know. Like how he wishes I was six feet under every time we run across him at work,” he sobers up at that. “He seemed like a cool dude, but his glare isn’t too friendly. I don’t know how you fell for that.”

You scoff, “just because someone has a resting bitch face doesn’t mean they’re a bad person.”

You both make your way to the underground parking. “You’re right, it just makes them unapproachable. Is that why you won’t confess?” His genuine tone rubs you the wrong way, you don’t need be given false hope.

“Stop it, you said you would drop it,” you frown, “Anyways, thank you for the food boss—”

“—not your boss anymore. Just call me Yuta, we’re partners now.”

“Aren’t you two years older than me?”

“And?”

You shrug at that, “well, thanks Yuta. For the food, not for the interrogation.” He chuckles at that, nodding while pulling out his car keys. “see you Monday!” he waves you off.

You sigh as you get home. It wasn’t as late as you thought it was, only a few minutes past nine. You really wanted to see him. Would he be busy?

You fish out your phone and dial his number before chickening out.

“Hello?”

“Jae! It’s me. Are you busy right now?” your heartbeat is pounding so loud, you’re scared he could hear it on the other end. “Right now?” you hear shuffling on the other end, “no, I was just reading that book Jungwoo sent me. Might have dozed off a bit into it but don’t tell him I said that,” he chuckles.

“Why, is everything ok? It’s still early, did you end dinner that fast?”

“Oh, Yuta and I called it a night pretty early. Too many couples were out and about and it got a bit awkward,” you explained.

“Yuta?”

“Ah, yes. Yuta Nakamoto, but now that we’re associates, he said it would be better to address him less formally.” You waive him off, “actually, I was wondering—if it’s not too late, can I still come over? If not, that’s cool. We can still hang out tomorrow, but your birthday is today and I thought—”

He laughs at your rambles, “of course you can come over, you know you don’t have to ask. How many times have I told you that?”

“Ok, ok. Just checking,” you still had your comfy change of clothes in your car, so you opt to save those for tomorrow and change into something causal for tonight.

“Do you want me to go get you? We can get ice cream on the way, hopefully they don’t close early.”

“Sounds like a plan then,” curse your heart for melting at everything he says.

“Alright, give me 15 and I’ll be there.” He hangs up.

You look at your bag, resting on your sofa and you sigh. The entire night, it’s almost as if you could feel the weight of his gift weighing it down. Yuta is known for being very observant, it’s why he was so good at his job. Closing deals and making contracts in advertisement. Would he be right about this? You know you desperately wish he was, but is it worth risking your best friend?

EndNote | Woooow, that was a longass ride. Let me know if you liked it or if there are other typos I missed! Or just to let me know what you thought, that would be much appreciated. I'm thinking of finishing it by Sunday 6/13, so hopefully the next part is up by then. Until then!

Here's Part 2!

[kashimos-hajime]

sawdust and plastic | g.t.

summary: you learn two things from your first real fight with goro. 1) he apologizes through cooking. 2) he hates it when they argue.

WARNINGS: spoilers for the gimme danger main job, swearing, slight angst, theye just communicating pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.2k

a/n: written with a fem!street-kid v who used to be a corpo kid. also dont yell at me but i rearranged v's apartment so the couch goes on all 3 sides bc comfortable :^) crossposted on ao3! enjoy :) 

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

Sitting down on the couch, you kick up your feet for the first time in what you feel like has been ages. From Jackson Plains to reconnaissance on the Arasaka warehouse, you haven’t eaten shit besides the yakitori Takemura had ordered at that booth which already felt like ages ago. It’d been good—better than the trash you’ve eaten as a kid so you don’t really get picky—but you can’t help but recall the disgust on Takemura’s face when he had taken a single bite.

“Sawdust and plastic.”

You snort, running hands over your face and tilting your head back. Stupid fucking Japanese man with an endearing sense of dry-humour and… zero tolerance for your cheeky smiles. 

Then he had to go ahead and bring up Jack.

His words, cold, callous, echo in your skull like a goddamn radio and you squeeze your eyes tight, raking your hands down your face and melting into the couch. No matter how much you wanna stop it, you can’t help hearing it over and over and over.

Grabbing the remote, you’re about to switch on a channel in hopes you catch something that cna take your mind off everything when there’s a knock on your door.

For a moment, you truly debate telling them to fuck off but then, there is a pause.

“V.”

Eyes widening, your body goes rigid at the sound of his voice.

“V, let me in before I look anymore foolish.”

In the back of your head, you tempt the idea of just leaving him out there, pretending like you’ve fallen asleep, but then you get up anyway against your better judgement. You drag your feet over the floor, picking up old takeout boxes you haven’t had time to clean up and tossing clothes into a hamper to make your apartment look more like an organized mess than the dumpster fire you know Takemura will scold you for.

When you reach the door, you let him in without a word and you note the bags he holds on, hoisting them over to your living room counter.

“What’s this?” you question wearily. “Goro, I’m not hungry.”

“I realized I must apologize for my harsh words.” Beginning to pull out the groceries, you walk over and peer inside the bag, frowning. All the stuff inside is cheap synth shit, nothing you haven’t eaten before, but you’re still confused as to what’s going on since you don’t exactly have a kitchen in your place, but then out of one of the thicker bags, Takemura pulls out a big box.

“For saying them?”

“Yes." He sets the box down before continuing with groceries. “Earlier, I told you if I had time and resources, I would cook onigiri.”

“With cod, or grilled salmon. Or umeboshi plums, because they were Saburo’s favourite,” you finish and he sends you a look that could’ve been a smile if his lips had curved more and his eyes meant it. “I remember.” Helping him with the big box, you cut it open and find a rice cooker within. Eyeing the contraption with an arched eyebrow, you can’t help but ask: “Where’d you find this stuff?”

“It was difficult. I had to lower my standards.” 

“Lowering standards,” you echo dryly, unable to help your empty smile. “Yeah. We do that a lot in grand ole NC.” He doesn’t seem amused by you even trying to help as you sit down on the couch, twist to watch him work. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

“I am cooking to apologize. It would not be honourable for you to help me,” he replies shortly and you nod to yourself, turning back around to watch the news. Nothing about a break-in with the floats, nothing at all indicating… anything.

For some reason, it makes you uneasy. The last time you snuck into an Arasaka building, everything went to shit and it made its mark. The lack of visible ripples makes you feel like nothing’s happened at all. Like it’s all been a fever dream, and you and Takemura didn’t sit on that roof for hours, watching the cat, just… talking.

Jesus, you need to get laid.

“Still don’t know why you bother cooking,” you say. Takemura noticeably stiffens and even though you don’t see it, you can almost feel the way he manipulates the air he stands in. He has that power—pure corpo power—and you clench your jaw. “Why waste time on someone so lazy as me?”

“V—"

“Nah, my bad. Arrogant. Hell, you probably see all the takeout around here and think I’m taking some easy route to food.” The bitterness is enough to puncture holes in steel as you stare blankly at the screen. “After all, I dirty my hands for money,” you quote. Your chest tightens as you hear his voice echo in yours, the way he had said it so coldly. Stomach turning, you shake your head. “Not in the name of some fucking principles.”

There’s a silence on his end and you close your eyes, swallowing through the bruising in your throat, a telltale sign you’re holding back tears. Just the mention of Jackie makes you want to spiral and you take a deep breath, trying not to react.

For the first time, you think Johnny might be right.

“Damn right, I am,” a voice says and you open your eyes, gaze fluttering to the side to see Johnny lounging against your couch. You turn around to see Takemura’s moved to the bathroom, probably to clean rice… however the fuck you make onigiri. You don’t know. You’re too tired to care about food, or feelings, or anything. “Never can trust a corpo. They all want one thing.”

“I don’t need to remind you that I was a corpo kid, do I?”

“Not anymore. It’s about principles.” Johnny’s tone is wry and you scowl at him. “What? If there’s one thing you might be able to relate to is that you both have ‘em. His might be wrong as shit, but…”

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna forgive him. This guy’s got you wrong, V. You don’t waste time on people like that.”

“I don’t have time to stay angry with him,” you argue. “The fact is, I’m dying and he’s gonna be the only one who can save me.” Johnny sits up straight, leaning on his knees and you sigh, shaking your head. Resting your arm along the back of the couch, you fit your hand to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fuck.”

“Stop. Don’t do it, V. It’s not worth it,” Johnny warns, standing up and you wrench your gaze up as you shift your feet on the floor and lean forward, burying your face in your hands. “I can feel everything you are feeling, and if I have to deal with your indecisive debates on whether or not it’s worth it to become attached to this corp piece of shit, I’ll kill myself.”

“You’re already dead, Johnny.”

“Let me live a little.” He stands and edges around you as if he were real and you rest your chin in your palms, watching as his holographic imagine crosses you before glitching back into view again across the table. He sits down. “The truth is, you’re gonna have a hell of a problem.”

“I know.”

“So, stop.” Johnny says it like it’s so easy and you chew on your cheek as the faucet turns off and you turn around to see Takemura begin to leave your bathroom. His pale eyes catch yours and you turn around only to see your brain tumour’s gone and left you alone. It’s eerily quiet in your head and you stand, clearing your throat.

Takemura slips the clean rice into the rice cooker before closing it and you cross your arms below your breasts, squeezing yourself tightly. You feel bare in your clothes despite wearing your scuffed jacket. He regards you warily, and then he sighs, gesturing to the couch—a silent ask.

 You nod, stepping back and letting him take where you were sitting earlier. You retreat across from him, where Johnny was sitting and he glances around your apartment. You wonder if he’s judging even more of you, but then he looks into his hands, swallowing visibly. 

“V—"

“You’re not the only one with principles. Just because I kill for money don't mean I'd do anything for it,” you begin coldly, leaning back and studying him. “And nothing about my life has been easy. When I said you did what you had to do to keep food on the table, that wasn’t me judging you. That was me getting it, alright, Goro?” His eyes meet yours and you arch an eyebrow, scoffing. “Not my problem if you don’t believe me. Yeah, I oppose corps, because they ruined my life, and so many other people’s lives no one can count 'em, but that doesn't mean you're any better than me. You don’t get to make assumptions about me. You never get to make assumptions about Jackie.That is all I have to say.”

He nods, accepting your harsh tone and you bite your tongue, trying not to burn down the bridge anymore than you need to as you prop a foot up against the table. Takemura doesn't say anything for a hot moment and you think you've wasted your time. Your knee jiggles. He doesn't even look at you.

Then: “I must again say that we are both still grieving. We ache to lash out. That is why I said what I said, and why, I presume, you say what you say.” He steeples his fingers and regards you with those eyes, gorgeous in their own right. “I understand what I said was callous. You have been nothing but understanding to my own loss.”

“No shit.”

“And I understand Mr. Welles was your friend.”

“He was like my brother,” you correct icily. “He’s been there for me since the beginning, I—I can’t forgive you saying something like that about him so easily, Goro.”

He dips his head. “I understand. It is why I cook for you. It is how I best express myself." The corner of his mouth tugs up faintly in a mirthless facsimile of a smile before he exhales sharply through his nose, looking at you again. "I confess I have not had time recently to cook, but I will do my best.” Johnny’s link comes to life at the mention and your own stomach squirms silently. “We are in this together, V. I do not wish for you to be angry at me.”

“Don’t do it, V. Don’t take it.”

“Fuck off, Johnny. I’m starving.” Aloud, you say: “I’ll be angry for a while. Just… let me sleep on it and we'll see from there.” He nods and you let your arms fall to your sides as you sit up. “It’s been a long few days, so I just… I just want to not think about anything for a while, you know?”

“I understand.”

He says that a lot, you notice. 

“Thank you for apologizing, at least,” you continue grudgingly. “Thanks.” You stand and gesture vaguely around the place. “Make yourself at home. I’m… I’m going to shower and scrub this grime off.” Dried blood, sweat, dirt, et cetera. He nods and stands as well, returning to the tiny cooking station he’s made for himself. You head to your closet, managing to pick out a clean shirt that’s a bit big and a jacket you ripped off a 6th Street goon a few weeks back. You just picked it up from the cleaners.

Heading for the bathroom, you set your crap on the toilet cover before poking your head out. Spotting Takemura sitting in front of the table, carefully sharpening a knife, you wait until he’s noticed you staring and he prompts you silently to ask.

“How’d you even know where I live, anyway?” 

He turns his gaze back on the blade.

“Ms. Olszewski marked it in my map, should the need arise.”

“This was a need?” you ask, curiously sardonic. Takemura doesn’t smile back and again, you get that impression he either doesn’t know how or he doesn’t do it often enough to remember. For some reason, that makes you sad. "Could've left it well enough alone. You know that."

“Oh, come on, V,” Johnny murmurs in your ear. “Don’t wax poetics on this guy.”

You ignore him.

“I do not enjoy the thought of a rift between you and I,” admits Takemura. He sets down the knife and sighs, eyes flitting to you briefly. Your hand wraps around the doorframe and you press your lips into a faint frown. "I... I have grown used to you."

You nod despite the words punching into your chest. “I don’t like it when we fight either.” At least, that you don’t have to fight twice to figure out. Your expression eases and your shoulders drop. “I’ll just hop in. Help yourself to whatever you can find. Really.” He accepts your offer with another nod and you close the door. It locks and you press your back against the metal, tipping your head back.

“For the love of—“

“Shut it, Johnny. Just… just give me a second.”

And on one of the rare occassions that he listens to you, Silverhand says nothing about how your heart doesn’t feel like wrought iron anymore.

[curryaboo]

— hiii! i was tagged by @banglatown @bengayli @jentlemahae @chameli aaand @/minteas to do this “get to know me better/20 questions” tag!! thank u so much beauts!! <3<3<3<3<3

🪁 what do you prefer to be called name-wise?

rao is absolutely fine!! <33

🪁 when is your birthday?

oct 13 :) i share it with some,, prominent people in popular culture and politics which aren’t rlly MY personal faves but wtvr it just goes to prove i’m the superior oct 13 baby !

🪁 where do you live?

the uk :<

🪁 three things you’re doing right now?

answering these questions, sorting out some spotify playlists in between answering these questions & casting my eyes between lines of james acaster’s classic scrapes and my phone (sunny @/amarakaran mentioned the book on one of her tag games n very kindly gave me the link to it and i jumped str8 to reading it! u know you’ve watched too many things featuring james acaster when u now read his book in his exact voice :/)

🪁 four fandoms that have piqued your interest right now?

bbc ghosts (ppl have some amazing theories n opinions surrounding it but i would not advise looking up the tag on here and sorting thru recent god bless youse but there are some awful takes there) aaand idk ig a range of kpop groups but i don’t rlly participate in the fandom sides of things anymore (and i’m not consuming a lot of new media or at least keeping up to date with the media that i do to label myself as being interested in being part of the fandom)

🪁 how is the pandemic treating you?

icl now that i’m seeing it in retrospect, it’s been cruel in the sense that it’s taken a lot of important things away from me (my last two years of high school for example i’m rlly bummed abt that) & stunted me in some ways but regardless i’ve learnt a lot about myself and my friends & family and yeah i’ve learnt to cherish myself and my loved ones all the same :)

🪁 song you can’t stop listening to right now?

boy am i glad this question is here bc since yesterday ? maybe i’ve been listening to gal mitthi mitthi endlesslyyy i think my brain chemicals recognise that we haven’t been to a wedding for the past 2 summers so it tries to fill the void by fixating on this one wedding-y song 💔💔

🪁 recommend a movie

PLS if u haven’t already , pls watch assassination nation bc i need someone to begrudgingly revel with in the absolute shit show pisstake of a movie that this is . (as a side note: my soul will not know peace until kennie jd does a video on it) on a more serious side, english vinglish is one of my most favourite films 10000/10 recommend pls go see it if u haven’t it’s an absolute warm hug of a movie <3

🪁 how old are you?

18 :)

🪁 school, university, occupation, other?

gap year babieee my soul is just wondering the place rn

🪁 do you prefer hot or cold?

cold !!

🪁 name one fact others may not know about you.

uhmm i lived in bangladesh for about 9-10 months when i was abt 4 and it was so amazing i miss it very much :’]

🪁 are you shy?

yes quite shy :} but i will always put effort into getting to know someone or initiating a convo !!

🪁 do you have any preferred pronouns?

i was in turmoil over them rlly but she/they is what i’m comfy with rn ! :D

🪁 any pet peeves?

other than some obvious ones, when ppl open things like crisps packets upside down,, that disgusts me truly

🪁 what’s your favourite “dere” type?

i would be a liar if i said i wasn’t biased towards a good bakadere but not too much that it annoys me lmao

🪁 rate your life 1-10. 1 being really crappy and 10 being the best you could ever be.

hmm rn it’s maybe a 5?? i’m grateful for so many things but there is def a lot of room for improvement :] (actually i just got on a 3 month free trial for spotify today so that just bumped the 5 up to a 6 😌)

🪁 what’s your main blog?

this one right here jaanoo.tumblr.com !!

🪁 list your side blogs and what they’re used for.

i don’t have any but i’ve been thinking of making one for aesthetics or like future references ??

🪁 is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

uhmm again i am quite shy teehee™️ imo there’s a noticeable difference between when we were yk just friendly towards each other vs when we actually become friends and i’m more comfortable with u . that’s not to say that i was being fake in the earlier instances of u knowing me, i was just a lot more reserved :) i’m also one of those *is online 24/7 but gets virtual interaction burnout every 2 hours so postpones replying to ur message to 3 days later* which sucks skfjdsj but yeah if there was anything that i’d need to know about YOU it’d be if u had any dietary requirements bc i love baking for my friends <333

ok now i’m gonna embarrass myself more than i already have & tag a lot of ppl bc i’m super nosey like that and want to know my mutuals’ answers to these 🥸 ofc u can absolutely ignore this and not want to do it we’re not under any contractual binding here <33 @allenoraaa @okhag @watermlon @gayanese @letteredwingsmain @theropoda @holyself @txtzy @creatures2010 @junqhwans @mistblush @snsdyuri @waterz @derelicthousefootage @killuaology @staycverse @amarakaran @tendermachines @shahrukh-khan @peachysara @firesigns @postmoderncaricatures @horrormanga @iqraars @123dream @sunmisbf @avisachi @bengaligirlfriend @morksuns @czennie-on-top @markvibes @joppin @nyuly @shin-jiyoon @99lover @mithaai @chamelis @thefinalgirlz @nikolailantsovswifey @mehendi @yerification @oneustual @singinginthecar @yejiswife @lovedsoup @mangopickled and uhh tumblr’s not letting me annoy tag anymore ppl so if u wanna do this and ur not on the list (ur in my heart 💕 and in an ideal world where tumblr automatically tags all my mutuals 😑) u can say i tagged u if you’d like!! ^_^

[vennilavee]

pink matter

pairing: levi x reader- grad school/boxer au (set in 2:58 AM//bare knuckles universe) summary: it’s levi’s birthday and you’re his present. word count: 4052 warnings: smoking (shisha), smut in the form of: oral (f receiving), fingering, grinding, oc is lowkey a pillow princess, oc cries (bc levi’s stroke game is too good), edging, spitting (dont @ me). 18+ !!!! a/n: ummm what can i say other than...happy birthday to my mans. and yes i listened to pink matter by frank ocean on repeat while writing this

Levi and birthdays were a tricky thing- he stubbornly refused to do anything over the top every year that you’d known him. His birthday celebrations have almost always been something that his friends have planned, or for the past few years, they’ve been celebrations that you have planned. His birthday fell during winter break, but this year neither of you were heading home. He was staying on campus for his internship and you were staying on campus to apply for jobs and give Levi company.

Besides, your family’s home wasn’t far from campus anyway.

He had had a boxing match earlier in the week, and had come out relatively unscathed with a few still healing bruises and welts over his knuckles. Despite your many attempts to dissuade him from underground boxing, none of them worked. He was good at it, great even, and he made more money underground boxing than he could ever hope to make at his internship. Besides, he had promised you that he was almost ready to quit.

You refused to let him splurge on you the way you knew he wanted to. If he was going to hurt himself to save up money for his mother, then every penny of his boxing money would go towards that. 

Levi could splurge on you later, as you often reminded him when it was late at night and he would voice to you how you deserve more. You scoffed at him, telling him that he knew you better than that. Besides, his kisses, his touch, his time was worth more than anything. Him coming back to you unscathed was worth more than a pretty piece of jewelry.

That didn’t stop him from getting you a beautiful gold necklace for your birthday. He needed to get you at least one thing for you to show off. You had protested immediately- you were both struggling for money, to make ends meet as graduate students. But he had silenced you- “Let me treat you just this once.”

And you couldn’t argue with that.

So today, you choose to keep Levi’s birthday lowkey, just how he prefers it. Just you and him. He’s spending most of the day at his internship, and then will be meeting Erwin and Hange for a quick drink. And then he’ll be having dinner with you.

He had asked you several times if you had wanted to join him for drinks, but you waved him off. Telling him to spend time with his friends, and that you’d go to his apartment once he came back.

Levi had kissed you goodbye in the morning, letting you linger over his chapped lips for a few minutes longer. 

You’re satisfied in letting him leave in the morning, as you had woken him up early with a birthday blowjob. The rest can wait until after he comes home.

You had given instructions to Erwin and Hange to keep Levi with them for as long as they could. After all, you had to finish baking the mini lemon tarts you wanted to make for Levi, make dinner, and get ready.

You were going to wear your baby pink satin-y dress. The one with thin straps. The one that Levi loved on you.

Anticipation floods through you as minutes tick by. You were multitasking- rolling dough, chopping meat, green chilis and vegetables up for the jiaozi and noodles that you wanted to make for dinner while checking the oven. Levi had given you his mother’s recipe for jiaozi, and you were eager to try it out.

Hopefully it came out as good as his mom’s.

You'd told Levi you’d be heading back to your own place to tidy up and fix up your resume, but really you had just snuck back into his apartment to start cooking with the spare key he had given you.

His kitchen smells wonderful and spicy mixed with sweet. A thin layer of sweat pools over your brow as you make sure that the broth is just right and the tarts aren’t too overdone. You’d even bought wine and whiskey- the wine mainly for you, and the whiskey for him.

Once the dough has rested for long enough, you add soy sauce, rice wine, salt and pepper to the meat and mix it. Then, you cut the dough into thin slices and add the meat filling to it. Before wetting the dough and folding the edges, you pull the tarts out of the oven.

Maybe you had prepared the tarts too early. Oh well, that’s okay.

You cook the jiaozi and pan-fry them, satisfied at the golden brown, crispy texture of them.

You make several servings of spicy Szechuan chili garlic noodles, to save as leftovers for tomorrow. You love noodles, and chili garlic noodles are one of Levi’s favorites.

Perfect. You still have around forty minutes left to get ready. If you move quickly, that’s all you’d need.

The small dining table in Levi’s extended kitchen is set with two plates, a glass of whiskey for Levi and a glass of red wine for you. You had strung more pink fairy lights around his living room and kitchen, giving the walls a faint, romantic glow.

Not that Levi knows what’s awaiting him. He’s not even expecting you in his apartment, but when he fumbles with the keys and sees the pink glow washing over his walls he knows you’ve been by.

But then he sees you sitting on the couch in his favorite baby pink dress with your legs crossed and a soft smile. You swirl your glass of wine at him expectantly, before setting it on the coffee table and greeting him at the door.

“Hey,” You murmur, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt with your hands, “Welcome home.”

Levi can’t take his eyes off of the red of your lips. He plants his hands over your hips, drawing you in closer to him. He traces over the curve of your jaw, eyeing the necklace sitting nice and pretty at the base of your throat. Levi dips his head to kiss your clavicle easily.

“Hey,” Levi drawls, “You all pretty for me?”

“No,” You roll your eyes, “‘M all pretty for me. You’re just an added bonus.”

“Even on my birthday?”

“Shut up,” You laugh, swatting his shoulder, “Go wash up. I made you something.”

Levi palms and smacks your ass generously, swallowing your soft sigh with his lips before ducking out to wash his hands. You watch him walk away from you, enjoying the way his dress shirt clings to his narrow waist and his broad shoulders. You ring your own hands in slight nervousness, hoping that he enjoys the food you prepared for him.

You know he will. But still, you like compliments and you’re not above admitting that.

You refill your wine glass, nearly jumping when Levi wraps his arms around your waist. His hands are warm against your belly, sending a bolt of desire through your spine.

“Started drinkin’ without me?” He murmurs, voice low in your ear.

“No,” You shake your head, “I had a glass as I was cooking. That doesn’t count.”

Levi’s hand slips up the slit of your dress, squeezing your thighs and trailing up your leg. “You made us dinner?”

“And dessert,” You mumble with a nod, turning in his arms and gesturing to the dinner table. Levi’s eyes soften when he sees the set up of the dinner table- two neatly prepared plates with steaming food. How had he not smelled it when he walked in? 

Probably because he was too taken with the scent of your perfume.

“It’s not much,” You mumble shyly, “But-”

Levi cuts your words off with a searing kiss, pulling you into his chest and cradling your neck. “It’s everything, angel,” Levi says, pressing his forehead to yours, “You’re everything.”

Your painted lips split into a bashful smile, and you push his hair out of his eyes to press a kiss to his forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

Levi kisses you again in gratitude, soft and chaste. His hands are rough over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He takes your hand and seats you in his lap in one swift movement, shifting you until you fit within the crevices of his chest.

You reach over for your plate and glass of wine, waiting for him to take the first bite of jiaozi. His eyes widen in appreciation, a soft hum coming from his chest.

“Tastes so good,” Levi murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulder.

“Really?” You perk up, turning to look at him, “It was my first time, I wasn’t sure if I got them quite right-”

“Really,” Levi says, “Thank you for this.”

“Just wanted to do somethin’ nice for you,” You shrug, unable to stop the smile from spreading, “You deserve it, baby.”

Levi hooks his chin over your shoulder, patting your thigh to wordlessly tell you to eat with him. After a few bites, you admit-

“You’re right, I did do a good job,” You giggle, the noise almost high pitched with the addition of wine. Levi tugs your hand into his, admiring the soft lilac color of your nails as he takes a generous sip of his whiskey.

“You did,” Levi trails off flatly, nosing at your neck. You both finish your plates quietly with gratuitous sips of wine and whiskey in between respectively. The soft material of your dress is always within Levi’s touch- he loves this dress on you because it only just ghosts over the nearly hidden lines and curves of your body. 

He thinks it makes you look ethereal. 

By the time you finish your plates off, you’re feeling the effects of wine curling in your limbs. Making you a little more affectionate than normal, not wanting to let go of Levi’s hand. Always touching him, somehow.

Levi puts your plates away and washes them quickly as you box up the food for leftovers for tomorrow. “Hey, guess what,” You murmur, “I packed the bowl for us-”

You gesture to the living room, where your pink and purple hookah sits tall and pretty next to the coffee table. Your hookah has been your trusty friend for the last few years, and you had even introduced Levi to it. Your hookah has now made a home in Levi’s apartment as well. Even though you had taught him how to use it, he had slowly become the one to pack the shisha into the bowl whenever you both wanted to smoke and clean the water out. 

You claimed that the shisha would stain your nails. He had rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. You were such a princess, but you were his princess. 

“Oh wow, is it a special occasion?” He says dryly, with the arch of his eyebrow. 

“It’s just some guy’s birthday,” You reply without missing a beat, earning yourself a squeeze of your ass. You sit next to him on the couch, legs tucked under you and give him the hookah pipe to take the first pull.

He blows the soft tuft of smoke above your head before taking a deeper pull. A larger cloud of smoke floats out of his mouth. You’re mesmerized by the shape of his lips and the way he holds the clear plastic pink pipe in between his long fingers.

Levi wordlessly hands you the pipe after a few pulls. You lean against his shoulder and thread your fingers through his as you take a few generous pulls. Smoking from your hookah has become something of a stress relief for both of you- sometimes you ended your nights with a nice pack and just sat with each other. It was a good way to wind down after long days and long nights.

It was a habit you knew you might be growing too old for, but you’ll deal with that later. 

You start to feel a little lightheaded, a little tipsy and give Levi the pipe back. “Did you have a good day today?” You ask softly, cradling his cheek with your hand.

He hums, “Wish they were paying me more at the internship. But I’m here now.”

You understand his unspoken words- I’m happy to be here now.

“We’ll be okay soon, Levi,” You promise, “We’ll be outta here soon, baby.”

But for tonight, he only wants to think about you. Levi only wants to think about you, you in this pretty dress, you all pretty in his arms. So he puts the pipe on the table and drops the coal from the bowl, ignoring your noise of protest. Levi pulls you into his lap hastily, hands tight over your hips and wandering down to your ass.

“You should suck my cock,” Levi says bluntly, “It’s my birthday, after all.”

He’s only joking- really, he likes seeing the way you pout and protest at him. Like the princess that you are. “Levi,” You whine, “I did this morning, and I can’t get on my knees in this dress…”

“You’re right,” Levi muses, fingers tracing your sides, “This dress is too nice for you to ruin.”

“It’s your favorite dress,” You say. You’re proud of yourself and Levi finds it endearing. Levi draws you even closer and lays you over the couch with your back flat. He clasps the hem of the tight skirt of your dress and hikes it up to your waist and allows his fingers to graze the softness of your inner thighs. 

Fingers instantly thread through his dark, silky hair, tugging at his scalp. He groans into your skin, eyes fluttering at the feeling. Levi draws himself up over your body, slipping the thin, pink straps of your dress off of your shoulders and dropping kisses along the column of your neck. You tilt your neck to the side in your hazy stupor, giving him an eyeful of your glowing skin.

You’re so pretty.

Levi kisses the spot behind your ear, the spot that never fails to make you sigh his name airily. He’s intoxicated by you, the sweet smell of your perfume mixed with his cologne clinging to your skin and wrapping you both in a pink bubble. Levi cradles your face with his hand, drawing your eyes towards him.

You leave him a little breathless- far more breathless than after a difficult boxing match. None of that has anything on the way you blink at him with hearts dotted in your eyes, or the way your lips are swollen from his kisses. And especially not the way you trace the hard planes of his chest with gentle calls of his name. 

His eyes are blazing, adoration stamped in his grey irises. Levi ducks his head for a sharp kiss, drawing a loud whimper out of you when he puts a little pressure over your neck. He squeezes a little harder when you whine impatiently and lock your legs around his narrow waist.

His angel in pink is just full of surprises.

Levi could kiss you for hours, the soft, wet feel of your red lips against his is something he wants to drown in. He’s certain your red lipstick stains his skin, but he pays it no mind. He knows you’ll get a kick out of it, but right now, you’re only focused on peeling him out of his shirt. You toss his dress shirt on the other side of the couch, where it lands on the armchair unassumingly.

Levi hisses when your lips brush over freshly healed bruises on his chest, but he doesn’t mind the slight sting. Levi firmly pushes you back towards the couch, an excited gasp ripping from your throat.

You like it when he shows off his strength for you. Specifically, when he manhandles you a little bit.

“Be good,” Levi murmurs raspily, taking your curious hands in his, “You gonna be my good girl? It’s my birthday…”

You nod instantly, eager to please, “Y-yes. ‘M your good girl…”

“Then keep your hands to yourself, angel,” Levi says and you pout at him. But you listen, struggling not to touch him.

Levi pushes the top of your dress down and unclasps your lacy black bra in quick succession, your tits spilling out easily. Your entire body pulses when his lips plaster over your chest, his lips sucking and tongue soothing as he slides down your body. 

He looks up at you from in between your legs, pleased when your eyes are hooded. You’re doing your best to listen to him, to not touch him. Just because he said so and you want to be good for him. Levi hooks his hands around your hips, pulling you flush against his face. 

You buck your hips towards him and hope he doesn’t notice. He does, but says nothing, only pushing the skirt of your dress higher up on your waist. Leaving your legs bare and your clothed pussy in front of him for him to devour. Levi dots your thighs in kisses before his head disappears in between your legs and rubs his thumb over your clothed clit. He presses a kiss there and you shudder, wanting to run your hands through his hair.

But you keep your hands to yourself.

Levi hums when he finally peels your panties off and puts them in the pocket of his pants, not wanting them to get dirty. You choke at the action, feeling your face heat up. Levi spreads your legs apart, hiking them over his shoulders and licks your core teasingly. His tongue is so wet and warm that you can’t help but buck your hips for more with a whine. You tighten your thighs around his head as he gathers your wetness with his thumb and circles your clit in the same motion. 

You grip the sofa cushions in an attempt to ground yourself. Your thighs tremble at the first swipe of his tongue over your folds and when he continues to circle your clit. Levi sucks your clit and pushes a finger into your dripping pussy, and you let out a strangled sort of noise. He pumps you a few strokes, your walls already clenching around his finger.

And then he just stops. You whine in annoyance, your brow furrowed and your lips pursed together in a pout. He only smirks at you wickedly, adding another finger into you and holding still. You try to fuck yourself on his fingers, but he won’t have that.

“Thought you were gonna be my good girl,” Levi murmurs, palm flat against your hip.

“Mmm-please, baby,” You mumble, eyes beginning to fill with unshed tears, “I love you, please touch me-”

“Alright, angel,” Levi acquiesces easily. He only wants to please you, wants to maybe see you cry on his cock, come apart with his hand wrapped around your pretty throat. “You know I love you.”

Your eyes light up at that, pout dissolving into a soft smile. Levi kisses your thigh once more and dips his head in between your legs. You move your foot so it’s flat against Levi’s back for more leverage, letting out a loud moan when his tongue presses into your pussy. You rock your hips into his face, nearly choking at the sight of his dark hair in between your legs. 

You don’t even realize how lewdly you’re calling his name, as he grinds his tongue into you as if you’re the sweetest honey he’s ever had.

Which you are. Because you’re his angel. You do well with being obedient, not allowing your hands to graze any part of him. So he looks up from in between your legs, your wetness dribbling down his chin and gives you a look that makes your pussy flutter.

“Good girl,” Levi murmurs and ducks his head down once more. The soft praise shoots straight down your spine and Levi tastes it. He threads his fingers through yours and you gasp at his touch, squeezing greedily.

“You feel so good, Levi,” You babble, “Love you, I love you so much-”

You cut yourself off with a wretched moan when Levi presses his tongue flat against your pussy and strokes you with two long fingers in you. Levi knows when you’re close, when your thighs begin to tremble and when you start babbling to him as you are now.

He pumps you slowly, alternating between slow and fast as you gush for him on his tongue. Levi groans in between your legs, the sound reverberating through you and he eagerly laps up another wave of wetness. 

“Look at you, angel,” Levi murmurs, pulling his tongue away to play with your clit as he presses kisses on your inner thighs.

“Yours, ‘m yours,” You slur, “Please, baby, make me cum, I’m so close…”

And since you asked so nicely, the lilt of your voice coated with silky adoration for him and him only, he presses his tongue to your pussy once more. Your back arches instantly, thighs beginning to quiver when he sucks your clit and presses two fingers into you again. 

“Levi, baby, please,” You beg with tears gathering in the corner of your eyes and dropping down your cheeks, “Love your mouth, love you so much. Wanna be with you always, wanna give you everything…”

God, he loves you so much. The way your eyes water when you’re close, the way you wrap around him perfectly like this. There’s nothing that can compare to your softness meshing with all of his rough edges.

“Cum, baby,” Levi murmurs hoarsely, scissoring his fingers inside of you. He shifts so that he’s over your frame, his fingers still inside of you and kisses you harshly. You taste yourself on his lips, moaning into his mouth. You don’t have the strength to pull away as your orgasm is within reach once more. You clench desperately around his fingers before he’s about to slide down your body again but you stop him.

“N-no,” You mumble, “Kiss me, want you to kiss me.” You yank him down to you, pushing your lips to his impatiently as you rock into his fingers. You look up at him with your lips parted and with heated cheeks, as he rubs your clit with his thumb.

“C’mon angel, cum for me,” Levi says, a soft demand. The headiness of his voice and his blown out eyes make your toes curl. With another few rubs of your clit with his thumb, stars explode behind your eyelids, your heart is about to beat right out of your chest and Levi holds you steady as you ride out your high.

Levi slides down your body to lap up your wetness and you close your legs instinctively from oversensitivity. Your thighs jump at his sudden touch over your clit and you try to shove him away but he pulls off of you himself, hovering above you and settling in your arms.

You give him a dazed, happy smile. Levi licks his lips, letting saliva gather on his tongue and presses his thumb to your chin.

“Open, angel,” He breathes. When you part your lips eagerly, red lipstick long smudged, he drops a ball of spit onto your waiting tongue and watches the bob of your throat as you swallow eagerly. Levi kisses you, coating your bottom lip with spit, just the way you like.

You grin at him, a little messy, a little in love. Levi’s cock jumps as he looks at you below him.

“You’re messy,” Levi says fondly, cradling your cheek.

“You like me messy,” You wink at him and wrap your legs around his waist to push him down to your chest. He rests his weight on top of you and you can feel the hard press of his cock against your thigh. You grind into him teasingly, lightly scratching at his undercut.

“I made dessert for you,” You say forlornly, “Made lemon tarts. With blackberries on top.”

“Lemme have you on top and then we’ll eat your tarts,” Levi says, earning himself a smack to the chest. 

Levi carries you to his bedroom after that, and you don’t end up eating the lemon tarts until most of the city has fallen asleep and flurries begin to come down from the sky.

tags: @simpingmaize​ @captainchrisstan​ @alrightberries​ @bbygrgu​ @phen0l​ 

[quinnthemushroom]

Dancing With Shigaraki

Warning: Men, mild sexual content, mild swearing, brief mentions of death (no one relevant to the story/no spoilers for anything), probably out-of-character Shigaraki, bitch boy's emotions are everywhere bc I'm inconsistent lmao. Enjoy

"Go ask her to dance."

"No."

"C'mon, boss man, you need the action."

"Is being a villain not enough action for you?"

"Not like you'll accidentally disintegrate her this time, you brought your gloves."

"Dabi-"

"Hopefully not the only kind of glove you brought."

"Fuck off."

Dabi brought Shigaraki to a club, despite Shigaraki having "better things to do" than coming to a club with horny and drunk people.

The worse part is he wasn't having a horrible time, albeit, there was one reason he hadn't gone home already.

You.

He hated everything about you already and only knew you existed for an hour. He watched the way you swung your hips to the music, he noticed how you annoyingly pick at your fingers when you get nervous, he noticed how you looked seductive when you knew someone was looking or trying to pursue you and how that smirk turned into an innocent smile when you thought no one was looking, like a 2-faced snake.

He also noticed how your innocent smile lit up the room, he noticed how you had the most fun when you danced with your feet instead of your hips, and how you talked with your hands when you got comfortable with whoever you were talking to.

Some guy, clearly drunk off his ass, walked up to you.

"How many more guys are gonna dance with her before you take your shot?"

"I could if I wanted to, but I don't."

But I do.

"I dare you then."

"What are we? 12?"

Shigaraki doesn't hear whatever Dabi says next as he watches you push the guy away repeatedly. Stupid bastard couldn't even take the hint, could he?

Without thinking, Shigaraki is out of his seat and speed-walking up to you. He grabs the first thing in his reach, your hand. He pulls you into him and glares at the bastard.

He leaves and poor Shigaraki doesn’t even notice how close and personal the two of you are until he finally looks down at your face and your wide eyes that can’t look into his for more than a second at a time, dancing around to look at anything but his red eyes. Your hands are on his chest and because he's trapping you in with his arms your breasts are pressed together.

You didn't look uncomfortable but you didn't give him the same look you gave everyone else all night. Were you disgusted with him? Were you in shock? Did you not like him?

After a second of shock, the innocence in your face washes away and is replaced with a more seductive and confident look.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands playing with the hair, giving a quick tug and not oblivious to the small gasp Shigaraki lets out.

Your hips are smoothly swaying to the music, mesmerizing the poor boy in your arms. The sudden change catches Shigaraki off guard as tries to speak, sounding out of breath.

"Hey, I'm uh-" has his throat always felt this dry? "Shigaraki."

Your eyes still can’t stay on his for long, you’re still nervous. You think he can’t feel you picking at your fingers with one hand while you twirl a bit of his hair in your other hand

but he can.

Knowing that you’re as much of a nervous mess as he is, he gains a sense of confidence he couldn’t find earlier that night. As smoothly as he can, he runs his hands over your hips and waist, around to your back to go up to your shoulder and down your arms to grab your hands.

He raises your hands above your head for your to turn around and hopes you’ll get the hint. And, thankfully, you do.

Your arms cross comfortably in front of you as he lowers his hands, still holding yours, to lay on your waist. Your ass is pressed up against his crotch, your back flush against his chest. He pretends not to notice all the little things that make him want to kiss you until you forget your name and only remember his.

He pretends not to notice how you subconsciously rub your fingers together, trying to pick at your fingers without letting him notice. You’re nervous. He pretends not to notice how your hips are swaying less now that your ass is pressed against him. He can’t decide if he thinks it’s because you’re nervous or because you’re trying to tease him. He pretends not to notice the goosebumps he can feel on your arms after he leans his head on your shoulder and starts breathing softly on your neck. He pretends not to notice how you lean into his touch slowly, clearly enjoying the warmth and comfort of being held.

It only takes a minute before you’re fully leaning against him with your head thrown back onto his chest/shoulder with your eyes shut, letting him keep you from falling.

He wonders why you trust him in such a vulnerable position and how you can just be enjoying the moment when he could take advantage of you, not that he particularly wants to. He gets lost in thought and stops swaying with you, which you notice very quickly.

And how do you get his attention back to dancing with you?

Instead of continuing to sway your hips side to side, you grind back onto him for a second, enjoying the quiet breathy groan you get from him

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Don’t do that.”

“Or what?” you say, shaking your ass a little and testing the waters.

He feels around your hips and finds the waistband of your panties, and tugs on it so it snaps against your hips. You yelp and playfully elbow him and the two of you laugh.

He doesn't know who you are. Hell, he doesn't even know your name.

But he wants to stay like this forever. He doesn't force himself to stop laughing or force his smile into a frown

You slip your hands out of his and you turn around to face him

As he’s about to pull away from you completely and walk away without another word, embarrassed you got his guard down, you grab his shirt. You look up at him with a kind gaze as you stare into his eyes and don’t dare look away.

Dabi, the bastard who tried to dance with you earlier, the other people dancing near you guys were the last thing on his mind. The way you smelled when you two were swaying and he could smell your hair, the way you felt when you jumped in his arms as he snapped your waistband against your skin, the way you sounded, the way you looked...

He couldn’t get enough of it.

Fuck he has to know how you taste.

Before you can say anything or move, his hands are back on your waist and pulling you in. His lips smash into yours, hurting the both of you a bit. The kiss is awkward at first but it doesn't take you guys too long before you find a beautiful and intense rhythm in the kiss and become involved in a short makeout.

You slowly pull away and speak up.

"Come back with me."

"Where?"

"My place, you idiot." You say as if you weren't asking a literal stranger to go to the place you lived.

"I could kill you in your sleep."

"You won't." You're confident for someone who doesn't know half of what he can do.

He doesn't know what about you draws him in so much but one thing he knows is he's never going to be able to stop thinking about you.