#idk if this is drabble it is what I say it is

[douqhnxtss]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ REDAMANCY ⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

𝓡𝑬𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑪𝒀 (𝘯.) — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯.

𝓝𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝓨𝑰𝒁𝑯𝑶𝑼 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝓨𝑶𝑼 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼̧𝖺𝖽𝖾, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗈 ��𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗎𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗑𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐— 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

✧ fluff, angst, uni & ceo au, objectification (by parents), reader has terrible parents, cold!reader, arguments, reader has self doubt & fears disappointing her parents, kissing, ft. aespa, big time skips, arranged relationship/engagement (not ningy/n), running away, reader discovering herself, jimin × minjeong, sleeping in the same bed, kisses, rich!reader, reader is lwk mean if u think about it (at the start), thriller & mystery solving undertones, complex!reader (if that makes sense), yizhou becomes a detective, proofread — transfer student!yizhou × hot nerd!reader ⋆ wc! 8.07k 𐙚𐙚 OH MY GOD. i love this sm, soz it took me 22 days to write this, like very imagine I write they keep getting longer and longer, my lord. pls enjoy this dish kira has served that she gave her heart and soul into making, likes and reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated (pls interact i cried one too many times writing this T_T) i might expand on this fic like provide moodboards, a playlist, more drabbles that branch from this fic as extra content idk lmk what I should do!!

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YOUR MIND WAS DEVOID OF THE JOY. devoid of the joy anyone would expect experiencing upon getting a perfect score on their exam, that too of physics out of all subjects.

to you, the score was just a mark of reassurance that you weren't a failure in the eyes of your parents, nothing more. you gave everyone a blank smile who congratulated you, clearly impressed.

you looked up when you heard someone clear their throat in an attempt to grasp your attention to see a somewhat unfamiliar face. you didn't know her and you couldn't place a name to her face.

she stared for a second too long, you couldn't decipher why. before you could overthink all possibilities, her smooth and calm voice introduced, "hey, i'm ning yizhou! i'm a new transfer student from china"

you nodded, not knowing what to say afterwards. she pulled a nearby seat and positioned it at the opposite end of the desk, across from you. she sat down, now at eye-level with you.

"you seem to be thriving in physics and me.. well— i'm not the best at it to put it simply." you slowly nodded again, the chance that you may have been mute struck the transfer student but she continued, "can you do me a favor, please?"

you shrugged your shoulders, "i don't tutor." her mouth fell agape, two things she was speculating both having been rejected in a short three-worded sentence. you weren't mute and you weren't a tutor either.

she went through five stages of denial, she didn't want to miss the opportunity to be tutored by the campus crush scholar everyone couldn't stop talking about. no one ever saw you talk to anyone first, when you did talk in response to someone it was always short answers and nods.

you were quiet, reserved and always calm. people loved testing you for that fact. they tried every single way to get on your nerves but not once did you raise your voice or let your reserved persona flicker to reveal who they actually thought you could be.

yizhou was one of the people who admired from afar, wondering who you were actually like when you weren't so damn cold. today, seeing her 17.5%— she knew she needed to get some help.

no one actually loved physics, most who scored between average to a little below high just studied and got it over with. they all despised the subject with a burning passion. someone who didn't despise physics, rather loved it; was of course, you.

you were one of the best at physics in town, you loved every concept, every theory, everything that summed up the contents of physics. you were more than 90% of the time the best in the state, which is why your reputation was so important.

your parents couldn't afford to have a daughter who peaked and then fell down, refusing to get up. you got scoldings for being second in the state level, you weren't just some ordinary nerd. you were always referred to as a science prodigy since you were little.

best at science when you were in middle school, best at physics in high school and currently still upholding your record at being the best at physics in university. there wasn't a day when you weren't talked about.

whether it be by the parents passing by or gossiping, the principal and teachers bragging to others, your parents flexing their perfect daughter or the others in the university who admired you.

you were practically an icon.

you didn't mind the attention, you didn't love it either. you just dealt with it and were neutral about the topic. you were known for declining almost every interaction prompted by anyone.

parties, coffee, studying, tutoring, hanging out— you never agreed. yizhou wasn't aware of that and as she sat there across from you, your furrowed brows, carefully analyzing what she must've been thinking. she knew she needed herself to become an exception to your no tutoring rule.

"please, look i'm okay with my other classes but i can't for the life of me, not struggle with physics!" she rushed out, quickly taking your hands, looking at you with the brightest, most alluring cat eyes you'd ever seen.

some students murmured, some gasped. another thing you weren't known for: physical contact. the day when you punched a boy so hard he broke his nose when he tried to pull you into an empty classroom by tugging your wrist— to confess his undying love initially, all of them knew you weren't one for physical affirmation. at all.

you should've just pulled your hands out of her hold, that's what you would've done with any other human. however, you didn't. your mind went blank, you didn't know what to do.

her eyes and the warmth that radiated from her hands that covered yours had an effect that couldn't be explained with physics, chemistry, biology, math or any other subject you could think of.

looking at her hopeless expression, you felt as if you were going to commit a sin by rejecting her polite request. you let out a sigh, not so sure why you were saying what you were, "alright, i.. i guess i'll tutor you."

her pretty brown eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across her face like a child who just got their favorite candy. she thanked you profusely, her hands leaving yours to clap a few times I'm excitement.

the warmth faded, leaving you looking at your colder hands. her fingers brushed past yours again when she took a pen and paper from your desk. she hurriedly scribbled something on the little sheet of paper before she handed it to you.

your gaze followed the notes content, it was her phone number and her name written below with a few sparkles and hearts drawn on. "text me whenever you have the time to discuss the schedule. bye, tutor y/n!"

she waved with her bright smile before skipping to her friend group. you read the note over and over again, a small smile curling up your lips. she seemed nice.

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"how do you love physics? it's the most boring shit ever!" yizhou dropped her head in her arms, exhausted from the never ending theories and concepts.

you lightly smiled, tapping the end of your pen on her head, "you know..." you drew out, but stopped before saying anything further. should she know about your feelings on physics?

she turned her head, looking up at you, raising her brows waiting for you to continue, "i know what?" she asked. you pondered for a few more seconds, shaking your head. her brows furrowed further.

"c'mon we're friends now, you can talk to me." she smiled, you couldn't see the smile, you knew she was by the way the skin near her eyes crinkled at the corners, chubby cheeks just visible enough to make you coo in your mind.

friend. you made a friend?

you didn't remember the last time when someone referred to you as their friend. you were a little dumbfounded, your little smile increasing at the corners at the thought before it fell again.

don't get too happy, y/n, she'll leave anyway.

she'll leave someday when she decides she deserves much better friends than an eye candy nerd who didn't know what their is to life outside of studying and presenting yourself elegantly.

for now, you chose to give her a response, "physics isn't my favorite subject," she audibly gasped, suddenly sitting up straight, this— this was tea.

her eyes were wide like she'd heard the most bizarre sentence to exist, "that's like a mathematician saying math isn't their favorite!" you only let out a little suppressed giggle at her shocked face.

"no doubt i do love physics," you said first and foremost, seeing her cringe at the statement. "but my favorite is not it." she nodded mindfully, understanding you perspective.

"so what is your favorite?" she slightly narrowed her eyes. you knew she didn't need to know anything more, "that's a conversation for another day." she gave you a little pout before she went back to the paper she was doing.

tutoring yizhou wasn't so bad. you'd rather not admit it, but you were starting to like the sessions. she cracked a few jokes here and there, sometimes spilled some hot tea about others which you never paid much mind to.

yizhou usually only spilled tea with her bestfriends, not with any student. but you weren't just some student for her, you were her friend. friends share tea, that's all, she thought.

she became even more nosy than she already was in her friend minjeong's opinion, why? she wouldn't answer. she noticed how you held eye contact when she ranted, albeit you didn't give any reactions other than nods and hums, she still liked it.

yizhou liked having your undivided attention. she chalked it up to her ego as you rarely gave anyone attention and you giving her just that made her ego jump. well her heart raced too, but you'll catch her dead actually acknowledging it at the moment.

"that's a gorgeous dress!" she exclaimed when she saw the little dress you drafted mindlessly. your eyes widened a fraction, your arm quickly covering the drawing, gulping your nerves down.

she wasn't supposed to see that. yizhou's brows furrowed when she saw your arm move to cover the dress. "it's nothing, focus on your test." you quickly ordered the chinese, your tone too precise, too calculated, as if you'd been in this situation before.

she didn't push it, opting to continue her work, though her mind was now occupied with many aswerless questions. what was wrong about doodling? maybe it was wrong for someone like you.

yizhou knew one thing was certain from the many more study sessions that followed after the dress drawing incident. you were secretive, and you were good at being secretive, also just as good at appearing perfect.

you were always the neat and perfect you. your image started to feel like it had been crafted carefully, like you'd spent years planning who to be seen as. you were strategic; every responce, answer and even laugh sounded as if it'd been planned out.

yizhou was starting to think you were a robot. she knew it wasn't true of course, but you intrigued her. you made her think so hard about you. aeri once said to her that she looked like she was stalking you.

she wasn't stalking you, why would she anyway? you just made her want to dig deeper, want to get under the bottom as to why you were so prepared for everything, like you knew every single way any conversation could flow, like you could read the minds of the people and immediately know what their intentions were.

something clicked in her brain when she was doing her homework in her room. you were mostly good at being flawless in every way— except that day.

the day when you drew the dress, that you hid as soon as she acknowledged it. that moment was a crack in your skillfully constructed persona. the dress was a small piece of who you actually were behind your picture perfect façade.

her pen stopped mid air, the realization sudden and gave her more questions and some answers to her previous ones. she saw your parents once, when they came to pick you up for whatever reason.

she saw the way your eyes darkened, turning more lifeless than they already seemed, almost like a void. your face remained stoic, hands clenched by your sides as your mum gestured for you to get in the car.

you were a puppet.

yeah, exactly! that's who you were. you were a million dollar puppet in the name of the kims' daughter. your mum and dad didn't look at you with anything, no love, no care, just blank.

you were controlled by your parents, one way or another. yizhou didn't like that. she knew she needed to help you, however, she didn't know how. she didn't know how she would break through your hard exterior to see the real you.

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slowly but surely, she tried to gather clues. she figured out that whenever your eyes would look around too much, almost as if they were searching for a card to play out of the many you'd prepared, it meant you were caught off guard.

she always payed attention, she tried her hardest to get more knowledge about you, yet with each passing day, the fire to keep searching dimmed.

she'd make a pretty good detective by the way she over-analyzed your every move. you'd make a good criminal by how nicely you portrayed yourself, knowing what to do in every situation while making sure no one caught on to your plan.

which in this setting, is you. what you are like under the puppet costume you were forced into wearing by your parents, according to yizhou's analysis and brainstorming.

she totally wasn't expecting that today she'd get a lot of answers to her previously unanswered questions. she sat on the table you two always studied at, in the far corner of the quiet library.

your attention diverted to the ring of your phone, it was your mum's call. you quickly took it, "i'll be back in a few." you spared her a glance before walking to the back exit of the library so you could talk without disturbing anyone.

yizhou nodded and went back to her work, she knew it would take a little time as it was your mum's call, she saw the caller id for a split second, she was getting observant.

the call was to inform you about a party they're hosting in honor of a new deal they just got and you needed to be there. you were taken aback, you were usually not to attend the parties.

your mum's sharp voice stated you needed to talk to the son of the opposite party they just made the deal with and hinted at a potential romantic arrangement between you two if things went according to plan, in her words.

you were infuriated to say the least; first she commanded you to attend a party, which she knew you hated, and second she was suggesting an arranged relationship. great.

the conversation ended on a terrible note, with your mum's loud orders and your quiet protests. what you said never mattered to her anyway, so now, you had a party to attend.

meanwhile, yizhou tied her hair up in a ponytail to prevent her hair from being a distraction because of the flowing wind. she yawned, tired from studying but she needed better grades, meaning she had no choice but to push through.

a few pages of your diary that you always kept near you flipped, an envelope and many pages slipping out, using the air as a medium to travel.

she shouldn't have snooped and violated your privacy, but with her recent tendencies of being overly nosy and her quest of unraveling your outer demeanor made her unconsciously reach out for the envelope and pages.

the pages— they confirmed her claim, they were a confirmation that you did indeed like drawing and fashion. she smirked knowingly seeing the countless suits, dresses, skirts, purses and pants.

the envelope— was something she didn't expect. her fingertips trailed over the edges of the envelope before she opened the flap. yizhou took out the stack of neatly arranged paper sheets covered in sketches.

sketches of her. kim y/n, the untouchable it-girl, drew sketches of her: ning yizhou, a sassy chinese transfer student.

was she dreaming?

her mouth was agape, confusion evident on her face and like with every interaction she had with you before, more questions arised that appeared to have no answer.

she saw an opportunity come to light in her mind, this could be her ticket to getting you to open up. she pretended to do her work whilst she waited for you.

you emerged from the door you went out from, eyes somehow darker than they already were, the formerly dark brown had been substituted by a gloomier, almost raven colour.

it was only when you sat down and looked forward did you see the opened envelope, numerous sketches and a yizhou who looked at you with a what is this? face like she was waiting for you to give an appropriate explanation.

"why did you snoop in my personal diary?" you didn't mean to sound so fed up, except the conversation you had prior with your mum played with your mind and the anger seeped out.

yizhou looked perplexed, "the pages and envelope flew out and i got curious." now that she thought about it, she had opened the envelope without consent.

"why are there so many sketches of me and clothing?" she got straight to point. the complexity of the situation really sunk in, there was no way to successfully cover up the fact that you loved fashion.

"that's none of your business, yizhou." you said her name for the first time. your tone was harsh, but the way her name flowed on your tongue? what was she thinking about?

you reached out to take the pages from yizhou who resisted, keeping them in a tight hold. "you can tell me. i promise i won't tell anyone!" she was not going to back down.

"this isn't something you should worry about. do your work." your voice was laced with authority and demand, which she'd normally obey though she had other plans right now.

"i want answers, y/n. don't change the topic." yizhou narrowed her eyes, looking up at you through her lashes. telling just one person won't be wrong, right?

you stayed still, contemplating every way this could play out like you did for every situation. yizhou noticed how your eyes moved around, she knew you were trying to make a decision in your mind.

she should really become a detective. was yizhou really trustworthy? you thought, you could make up an excuse right now but you'll have to come back at some point to tutor her.

you'd under no circumstances let your guard down and told anyone about your ambitions before. you were the perfect daughter of the kim's after all, your life had been planned out long before you were born. you had an path established by your parents to follow.

you let out a deep sigh, realistically speaking, what more could you do? you began from the start, from your dreams since you were little to become a fashion designer.

how your dreams were crushed over and over again, how you never had friends growing up as friends are distractions, how you had no choice but to comply to your parents' wishes.

her jaw was wide open, heart clenching as you told her how your hope and spark for having your own brand dulled, no longer having enough will power to fight back for what you love.

now, you just sketched in your free time and did what your parents wanted you to. you were just a pawn in their game of business, power and status.

yizhou was speechless, this was it. the truth she'd been hunting for the last month, her questions were answered and her heart, it was broken. she knew you weren't doing the best by your permanent gloomy eyes, yet she didn't expect it to be so upsetting.

now that she knew who you were, she wanted to help you. she wanted you to feel confident in your skills and believe in your passion. you shouldn't stop dreaming because they don't align with your parents' vision according to her.

"what if i help you?" she blurted out, only thinking about what she said when your brows furrowed, "help me in what?" you asked back. "you shouldn't give up your dreams!"

"what's gonna happen if i, let's say, actually do try reaching out to brands and showing them my designs?" you questioned, procrastination was your bestfriend and it showed.

"if they have functioning eyes, they will realize how your designs are amazing and offer you a deal, obviously!" she held up some of the pages, talking like she was stating facts.

you looked at her as if she was crazy, "there are so many ways i could be rejected and fail with this strategy." the word failure was hated upon in your dictionary as being first was always the goal for your parents.

"so? you will fall countless times and you should get up every time and learn from the fall and utilize the mistake so that you don't make it again. failing isn't bad, it's a necessary part of the journey of success."

her words stuck in your mind, they were the complete opposite of what you heard growing up. "you.. you sound too optimistic. the world isn't sunshine and rainbows; we don't live in a fantasy, this is reality where the concept of a happily ever after doesn't exist."

"your mentality needs a lot of fixing. i'm not too optimistic, you have the skill, your designs are unique and pretty. this isn't fantasy, yes i agree, but that doesn't mean you can't have a happily ever after, some don't have it but i believe you can!"

you didn't understand. why was she fighting you on this? what's her ulterior motive? there must be one, no one helps you without having a motive beneficial to them.

"you're talking nonsense. the world is dark, yizhou. your perception of the world needs a reset." your fury from earlier made your words colder and ruder, yizhou couldn't help but let a scoff slip out.

"you sound very full of yourself, y/n. i hope you do realize you're talking like how i expect your terrible parents to sound." her final sentence echoed in your brain and you stilled.

"infact, your perspective is extremely dark and dull. the world is dull but it's on you to find things to make your world colourful."

you didn't utter a word, processing the opinion. your mind went back to the rough retorts you'd spat to yizhou— recognizing the sole focus on the negativity of a topic, fixating on the cons and none of the pros, you were talking like your parents.

you never thought you'd ask such a bizarre, for you, question to anyone, yet here you were, in the library with a student you were supposed to tutor who you just told your whole life story to, asking her, "what do i do?"

yizhou's eyes lit up and a little smile made its way to her lips, "i think you should start giving your designs to major brands and collaborating with them, and at the same time slowly build your brand, plan it out, and we'll go from there."

her thought process made sense, although you weren't sure if you'd be able to do this, "this sounds good in theory, nevertheless i can't help but doubt if i have my ability to pull this off."

yizhou stood up, walking around the table and taking a seat beside you. she took both of your hands, "trust me, you can do it! i believe in you." her eyes held sincerity and warmth, a look you weren't at all used to.

"why? why do you believe me?" you muttered, voice barely audible. she smiled, "because i'm your friend, i know how you are. i know you're capable of achieving your dreams, you have that spark in you; you just need to ignite it and produce a fire."

you looked down, lips curving into a faint smile, this is what having friends is like? you actually made a real friend? "you think so?" you asked, eyes holding hesitation.

yizhou had the most hopeful grin on her face. this was the first time you'd completely let your guard down, let her lower the walls you'd mentally built around yourself. "yeah." she said.

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six months. it'd been six months since mission: freedom, named by yizhou, started. many things happened during the six months: you'd collaborated with many brands and your own was pretty much planned out, only a little more preparing as well as pulling some strings were pending.

you were condemned to around three or four dinners with your parents' business partner's son, park jihoon, which you reluctantly went to. the latter just didn't pick up on your super obvious hints that you didn't like the meetings or him.

you were now a part of yizhou's friend group, you refused to meet them at first but with her pout and cat eyes, you were left no choice. you considered all four of them your friends now.

if you'd told your self from half a year ago that you'd have four friends and a good career plan, she would've cringed and rolled her eyes internally, saying "stop talking fakery."

maybe the one above didn't like seeing you happy, you thought as you sat across from jihoon with your and his parents present, talking about the potential engagement of you two.

you wanted to dissappear. you wanted to just run away and hangout with yizhou, she was all that was on your mind. you two had gotten close. she always had your back, always there when you needed her.

she made you realize it's okay to depend on someone and not bottle up your emotions. she warped your perception of the world, showing you the colours and joys of adventure and exploration.

"y/n." your mum snapped her fingers, making you snap out of the spiral of thoughts in your head, "yes?" you straightened, looking forward to see jihoon give you a shy smile.

you now knew he picked up the hints you gave but chose to ignore them and live in delusion that you liked him when you hated as much as sparing him a little glance.

"you are happy with this decision, right?" the look your dad gave you was enough for you to know the question was only here to serve as a formality and the answer you were supposed to give was a yes.

you gulped, head starting to hurt. every time yizhou told you to rebel against them played like a broken record in you mind, however much you tried to suppress them, they didn't budge.

you nodded, knowing your words weren't on your side and you'd say something you'd regret later. your mum held a practiced smile which didn't reach her eyes, same with your dad.

jihoon and his parents were overjoyed, meaning you were the only person not actually approving of this arrangement. you wished the ground would swallow you up.

jihoon soon left with his parents, not before giving you a wink and sly grin. you gave a blank smile and immediately stood up, taking a beeline for your room as soon as they left.

you didn't know when the tears started flowing down your cheeks. you didn't know when you jumped out of your window, still in the elegant light blue dress you wore along with your plain flats.

you weren't sure where you were headed, your feet walked on accord of your heart, not your mind. you were accustomed to disregarding what your heart suggested, opting to be logical, never letting your feeling get a hold of you, but you'd changed since then.

you ended up at the door of yizhou and aeri's shared dorm, cheeks stained in tears and bottom lip quivering. you hurriedly wiped your cheeks, trying to rid them of the dried tears the best you could.

after a few knocks by you, a drained yizhou opened the door. her eyes were as wide as saucers when she took in your dolled up but tear stained and bummed self.

she didn't say anything and instead firstly ushered you inside, locking the main door behind her. she guided you to her room, gesturing to aeri who sat on the couch with a wide mouth at your appearance that she'll tell her later.

yizhou sat you down, giving you a cup of water and then sitting down on her bed with you. "so, what happened?" she asked, tone laced with worry, bottom lip in hostage of her teeth.

you told her everything that went down hours ago, she was flabbergasted. she thought these dinners you went to weren't serious and were just there to make sure your parents were occupied so that mission: freedom didn't face any problems.

"why did you agree?" she shrieked, fury swirled in her, each sentence that left your mouth only feuled the rage. "what could i do?" you had your head in your hands, it felt like your head on the verge of exploding.

she knew what she was about to say was dumb. so dumb. incredulously dumb. though it sounded the best and most logical, she didn't like seeing you upset like this because your parents can't stand to see their daughter happy.

"how about you run away?"

your head snapped to her, your gaze saying are you serious right now? she clapped her hands, "listen, you have a ton of inheritance money right?" she asked, mentally fitting the pieces of your puzzle of life.

you nodded. you were given a hefty allowance and had inherited a great sum from your grandparents from both sides, you had your own bank account that included all the cash.

"you go back, pack your clothes, tell your parents that you don't want to marry that jiyeon-jihoon whatever his name is, we both know they'll disagree. then you say i've had enough of being your doll, i'm leaving and shit. after all that, you leave and stay with me, i'll arrange everything here."

she said it so nonchalantly like she didn't just tell you to get yourself disowned. "i don't know if i can talk back to them. also i don't want to burden you." you'd never done anything out of line, you were always doing what they wanted you to, always tried to please them, even when you knew they wouldn't say any encouraging words.

nothing was ever enough for them.

"you'll have to, y/n. i know you can do it. i believe in you. and you're not a burden, don't think of yourself that way." she squeezed your shoulder encouragingly. "you do, but i don't believe in myself, ning."

"don't worry, i'll have enough faith in you for the both of us!" yizhou giggled and leaned in to give you a warm hug. your hands hesitantly wrapped around her. you'd only gave eachother a hug a few times before, each time a little less awkward than the last.

you pulled away, muttering a "okay, i'll do it." she looked at you, eyes having an unreadable expression. you couldn't register when she leaned in, realizing she just kissed your forehead when a strand of her hair tickled your cheek.

"i know you have it in you, my star."

the nickname sounded almost melodic, like a symphony you'd instantly fell in love with. "my star?" you asked, tilting your head. an overwhelmingly lovely feeling bloomed in yizhou's chest at the sight.

she hoped her cheeks weren't flushed or if they were, you didn't notice, "like the nickname?" you nodded, a bright smile on your face. the upcoming storm you could feel brewing didn't matter at all when yizhou was here with you.

"i'll get going now." you said and stood up, smoothing your dress our of habit. "nice dress." she said, you giving her a shy thank you in return, you were never good with compliments, having not received many by the people you cared most about in your upbringing.

you gave aeri a wave on your way out, her reciprocating the gesture with a smile. you didn't mention the kiss nor did yizhou when you left. she hoped you wouldn't ask, as she didn't know why she did that either.

you took the few pairs of clothes you actually liked wearing, leaving the closet still more than half full which were all the clothes your parents made you wear.

you packed your bag, a million thoughts and possibilities running through your head. should you really do this? should you burden yizhou? you wanted to think of every outcome, but you resisted, you needed to think of the future, you were not going to marry jihoon.

you changed into regular blue jeans and a white button up, slinging your bag around your shoulder after stuffing your phone, charger and a few essentials in the bag.

you composed yourself, your nerves were slowly getting to you, anxiety creeping up in your body. you thought of the freedom you'd started wishing for that you'd finally have after this and descended the stairs.

your mum and dad were both on the couch, discussing something amongst themselves when you stood infront of them. their attention diverted to you. your mum gave you a distasteful look as she eyed your outfit.

"what is this?" your dad asked, his deep voice ringing in your ears. you took a deep breath, repeating the sentence in your head before you spoke it out loud, "i don't want to marry jihoon."

the silence that followed the blatant statement was suffocating. it was like they were waiting for you to take back your words or say that you actually meant i do want to marry jihoon.

"what?" your mum broke the tense atmosphere. "i said i'm against this arranged marriage." you repeated your words, more confidently this time.

"i hope you're aware of what you're saying, y/n." your dad said, you could see through him, through his eyes which appeared their usual brown but had underlying greed.

your dad wasn't happy as this could break his deal, not because his daughter is going against him, against his morals. that's when it hit you like a punch in the gut, you really were just a moneymaker they were investing in by giving you the title of their daughter.

the years of bitter words you'd kept hidden about them and their unbothered gazes now were enough to break the little patience you had.

your mum stood up and walked over to you, "you will be his wife." you gritted your teeth, you were done. they were no one to treat you like this, you were done with tolerating their narcissistic, greedy and self-absorved selves.

"i'm done being the picture-perfect daughter you want me to be. i will not marry him and i certainly won't give up my dreams to follow your path and become equally as terrible as you are."

you wanted to say more, wanted to voice your frustration you'd skillfully hid for years, yet your flow was broken by your mum's hand meeting your cheek. your head whipped to the side, mouth agape.

"since you've learned to talk back and be an ungrateful brat, you'll learn to live as an orphan." your mum spat out. you neither replied nor cried, you weren't fazed by being a disappointment in their eyes anymore.

"leave, you're not my daughter." your father ended the conversation and you nodded. your mum huffed, "enjoy being a nobody, you're nothing without us."

you scoffed, a smirk on your face as you spoke, "good challenge, i'd love to prove your controlling bitchy self wrong." you didn't say anything further, you didn't wait for them to talk either.

you walked out the main door, leaving your twisted parents and past behind, ready to embrace everything you loved and cherished.

the feeling of freedom spread through your veins, it felt like you'd escaped from your personal prison that you'd lived in since you were born.

yizhou and aeri both welcomed you with open arms when you reached their dorm for the second time that night. you gave them a tired smile and thanked the two profusely.

yizhou had placed blankets and a few pillows on the couch, "i'll be sleeping here, you'll sleep in my room." your brows furrowed, "what do you mean you're going to sleep on the couch?"

"it's just for this night, i talked to jimin she'll arrange a bunk bed on top of mine in my room tomorrow." she talked like it was the most normal thing to sleep on the couch.

well, it was for her. for you? terrible, something you'd not done before and you couldn't stand to see her sleep there for you. "no, it's your dorm, i'll sleep on the couch."

past you would've rather died than have said that.

"what, no! you're not sleeping there!" she exclaimed, aeri just shot a knowing glance to yizhou, who glared at her. "how about you two sleep in the same bed, it's not that small."

aeri's voice brought a little pause of silence. yizhou spoke, "yeah, i don't mind. we can if you're okay with it, star." the assertive sentence paired with the nickname made your mind go blank for a second.

you didn't want her to sleep there and she didn't want you to sleep there whatsoever, the only other thing was for you two to sleep together as you didn't like the idea of her or you going to sleep with aeri too.

"okay." you said, running your hand through your hair in an attempt to camouflage the heat on your cheeks. you tried but aeri saw the redness on your ears and smirked to herself.

"it's settled then, good night you two, i'm off." aeri teasingly winked at yizhou, which went unbeknownst to you. she took the blankets and you took the pillows. you trailed behind yizhou to her room.

you two layed down, turning off the lamp, darkness enveloping the room. yizhou was exhausted and slept in the matter of a few minutes maximum and you were still wide awake.

your mind referred back to the hours prior, the little part of you that still loved them resurfaced even though you tried to bury it, tears were welling up in your eyes.

you wiped them with your hand, you did what you did for your future. you were now free, you didn't need to be flawless or perfect anymore; you could be you.

──────── ✧✦

a year. the earth had completed a full revolution around the sun since you left your then house. your inherited money and the money you got from your collaborations were enough for you to live without having to work another job.

in the past year, you graduated two years earlier, at the same time as aeri and jimin. you also officially started your own brand, named luciscura.

the word meant the light born from the shadows. it represented you, how you used to live in a dark world, in your parents' shadows and how with yizhou, you shined, you saw your own potential and turned your world vivid.

yizhou was in her third year and minjeong was in her last year. you still helped yizhou whenever she needed help in physics while you worked on your brand.

luciscura was a rapidly growing clothing brand, known for its chic, timeless and diverse style. the brand sold classy dresses, grunge pants, tops, bags, heels, everything anyone could think of.

you never ran out of ideas when it came to fashion. you were also quite popular on Instagram, known as the young and rich ceo and fashion designer on social media.

your instagram had a large following, though you only posted once every month. you were loved by everyone, like you were in university, but this time it was different.

everyone loved who you were, not the perfect image you presented of yourself in uni. you liked it that way. you'd also moved into a new appartment.

after aeri and jimin graduated, leaving yizhou and minjeong, the two started living in one dorm. aeri, an art major, was now one of the models of luciscura and jimin, a fashion design major, was also a part of your team.

the two loved working with you, you'd practically became one of them now, you proudly referred to them as your bestfriends. you were still quiet and preferred your small circle of friends.

you loved the new life you'd made for yourself. you were as content as you could be in the moment. you did face struggles still, regarding your brand and your parents.

your parents tried to meddle in your brand and sabotage it, however, as it goes— cunning parents raise even more cunning children, you didn't fall into their trap, it wasn't easy to fight against their corporation that had been there for generations, but you gave it your all.

you fought for luciscura, the brand you'd spent blood, sweat and tears making. jihoon sometimes dropped by your office too, in the name of a business deal and you did merely that, treated the meeting like you would a business meeting, though he tried to chat with you.

he tried to ask you out and you disagreed to his face, you told him you never liked him. he blew up, saying he liked you better when you were kinder. you said too bad. she's gone now.

many other fashion brands tried to get in your way, but what they didn't know was the fact that you were incredibly smart and strategizing was second nature to you. they posed a threat, you bit back, hard.

no matter what situation you were in, yizhou was there by your side. in the lows and the highs, when you were stressed or overjoyed, she was there. she was always there.

she never lost faith in you. you lost faith in yourself, but she didn't. she reminded you of how far you've come, how proud she was of you. she was there for you whenever you needed her.

you thought she did so because she was your bestfriend, and it made you mad at yourself for feeling the way you felt. you hated how much you liked, heck maybe even loved yizhou.

it was your birthday. you didn't even remember it, only apprehending you'd turned twenty one when yizhou walked in, cake in her hands. she looked at you like you were a alien when you told her you didn't know why she had a cake with her.

"you know, you're the first person i've seen who doesn't remember their birthday, star." she shook her head in disapproval. you shrugged with a smile, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"happy birthday, my star." she wished you, feeding you a piece of the cake she'd made herself, it was a little too sweet for you but you talked about it as if it was the best thing you'd tasted in your life.

"what's my gift?" you asked, tilting your head. she couldn't help but giggle, looking endearingly at you. she always referred to you as the gentle giant, as you were the tallest out of you five but with her, you were the most gentle and caring person.

"close your eyes," she began. you complied, she waved her hand infront of your eyes, checking to see if your eyes were actually closed. once she was sure, she bit her lip.

what she was about to do would either make her the happiest girl in the world or ruin the most ethereal friendship she's had in her entire life of twenty one and a half years.

she stood on her tippy toes, her hands cupping your face. you didn't know what was happening, you could feel her breath ghosting on your lips. yizhou leaned in, connecting her lips with yours.

you gasped, you didn't know what to do, you hadn't kissed anyone before. she knew the fact and swiped her thumb over your cheek encouragingly, making you slowly relax in her hold.

your hands hesitantly rested on her waist. you eventually got a hang of it, following the rhythm she'd set. she pulled away, butterflies dancing in her stomach and you hoped she didn't hear your heart which was racing a mile a minute.

"so, how's the present?" she asked breathlessly, her hands looping around your neck. "the best i've ever gotten." you giggled, letting your head fall in the crook of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

her scent filled up your senses, overwhelming you in the most amazing way. "i love you, my star." you didn't know how to reply to her confession.

it seemed like she sensed your difficulty in expressing yourself, "it's okay, you don't have to confess right now, i'll wait for you." she twirled a strand of your hair.

"i, i love.. i love you too." you said, you voice was muffled but she heard it. her mind went haywire then and there, she needed to hear the sentence from you again.

she cupped your face again, pulling you out of the position you were in, "say that again, please." the way she asked so gently and how her hold was so soft and delicate, it was like she feared you'd break if she held you too hard.

your cheeks were dusted bright pink, ears also red, "i said, i love you." she kissed you again. and again, and another time. she couldn't get enough of you.

the night was enchanting, knowing she loved you the way you loved her, you couldn't be happier. your heart felt elated, contented, it was a feeling you hadn't experienced before.

at some point, slowly but surely, luciscura grew, flourishing into one of the mainstream brands. yizhou at last graduated and it'd now been two years since you two started dating.

you were pleased. you were living your dream life. you were the ceo of one of the most iconic and popular fashion brands, luciscura; you had three beatfriends you'd never forget and you had the love of your life, yizhou.

somewhere along the way, jimin and minjeong began dating while aeri was happy with her single, model life. you couldn't wish for anything more than what you had.

you wouldn't trade your loved ones and luciscura for the world. your parents now wanted you back, but you knew better, they just wanted your money.

jihoon also tried to chase you, you had enough of it and one such time, kissed yizhou infront of him. that was enough to shut him up and get him off of you.

you and yizhou moved in together into a new appartment. she now ran a bakery along with minjeong. it was close to luciscura, which made it easier for you and jimin to visit yizhou and minjeong in between little breaks.

"happy second year anniversary, my darling." you kissed yizhou and gestured for her to look at your queen sized bed, filled to the brim with boxes.

you handed her a bouquet of silk ribbon roses you'd made yourself, "made this myself, all for you." she was lovestruck. she jumped into your arms, you twirling her around, your and her giggles mixing and filling the room.

"you're the best, i love you so much, happy anniversary!" yizhou pulled you in with the collar of your shirt with one hand while the other held the bouquet after you set her down.

she kissed you passionately, your hands already on her hips, lost in the feeling. "thank you so much, my star." she kissed you all over your face, making you giggle more.

"no, i should thank you. all that i am, it's all because of you, i'm nothing without you, my darling." you left a lingering kiss on her forehead before you pecked her again, your foreheads touching.

the day was perfect, you knew that if you'd told the y/n who was still in her first year three and a half years ago that this would be her life, she'd actually cry.

you would forever be thankful to your darling, your yizhou, for coming up to you after failing her physics exam. if it weren't for her being new and not knowing better, you wouldn't have been here.

your love for yizhou was everlasting. she was the love of your life, she taught you something no one else could. she taught you the act of loving in return.

ning yizhou taught you redamancy.

you showed her the most dreamy and ethereal example of redamancy you knew— the love you sacred in your heart for her.

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[iwoulddieforher]

nonsexual power play

idk casey and alex do what the title says. drabble. don't ask why I wrote this.

warnings for canon-typical mentions of cases but not exceptional graphic, mentions of death, nonsexual dom/sub dynamic., handfeeding, idk. it's a weird one.

Casey was sitting on the couch facing opposite the door like she always did when she was stressed out. Her hands, too, spoke to the discontent, clasped firmly together in her lap as she stared blankly down at them.

“Casey,” Alex said softly, as the woman hadn't initially moved when she entered, and Casey looked up and immediately started shifting to her feet the way a startled person does.

When Alex jerked her chin once at the couch, Casey obligingly sat back down, her expression still unmoved from the blank stonewall it typically was when she was holding her facade.

Alex’s eyebrows tilted with sympathy, and she lifted her hands, showing her what she had brought. Chinese takeout, and a styrofoam cup filled with diet coke, Casey’s typical order. Casey visibly swallowed, opening her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Liv told me about today,” Alex murmured, walking around her to sit by her side, placing the foot on the low table.

“That snitch,” Casey muttered in response, raking her hand through her hair. Alex scoffed, placing an arm on her shoulder, running her thumb along her back.

“You know,” Casey started again, her speech abrupt, “When I started this stupid job, I wanted homicide. And you, who actually wanted this job, are working for homicide, while I’m here.”

“You don't want to transfer,” Alex said wisely, shifting her torso to angle in Casey’s direction, moving her hand from her back to stroke through her faux blonde hair, which Casey sighed and relaxed under.

“No,” after a moment of consideration, “No, I don't.”

“Living victims are hard,” Alex soothed wisely.

Casey could only nod, her bottom lip clenched slightly lest it start to quiver. Her hands made fists in her lap and then released again, and her eyes scrunched.

“Oh, Casey,” Alex sighed, pulling the younger woman into her shoulder, who rested her forehead against her neck immediately as if she had only been waiting for Alex to make the first move. Her face was warm with stress and unshed tears, her body tense. “Oh, honey.”

She clung to her, quietly for a few seconds, face nuzzling closer, before she snapped. Casey shoved her away, suddenly, not harsh but quick and firm, scrambling to her feet, beginning to pace back and forth.

It reminded Alex incredibly like a caged lion, a wing-clipped hawk. All that power, all that energy, a majestic creature with more radiance than most could dream to observe cruelly forced by way of situation to waste their own potential. Casey was a force that couldn't be stopped until it harshly was by way of literal death.

“Living victims, fuck- but he’s not even living anymore!” Casey snarled at no one, glaring fiercely into the little reflection of herself she could see in the interior windows.

“I talked to him-!” She protested, switching directions to stare at Alex with blank eyes and a face contorted in anger, “I spoke with him yesterday. I told him everything was going to be <i>fine<I>. That was yesterday, hours ago, and they found him- they-”

“Casey,” Alex whispered, and it had the intended effect. When Casey’s voice was raised, arguing with her or raising one's voice higher was pointless. She freaked, or got defensive. Whispering always made her quiet, made her breathe for a second, tilted the situation. It stopped her from going too far in her own head.

Casey didn't know what to say again. That happened incredibly rarely for her. Casey was good at dispensing her energy into arguing, into debate. That’s what made her such a good lawyer. But when there was no enemy to point at, all she could do was further frustrate herself, and all Alex wished to do was calm her before that could happen. She knew the cycle too well; it had been her’s before. A teen boy who had walked out of her office and then struck tragedy, too.

“I can't be me right now,” she said slowly, after a while of standing there, “I can't- I can't do this.”

“You have to ask me,” Alex said quietly. “I won't start this for you.”

Casey’s gaze lowered to her feet and she bit at her lip in a way that made Alex immediately want to soothe the pink mark her teeth left, her eyes averted. Yes, she knew the deal. If she wanted Alex to wield total control over her, she needed to be the one to ask, or Alex wouldn't do it.

“Imagine what Olivia would say,” Casey murmured, “If she knew what we were doing. What anyone would say.”

“I don't think it's as embarrassing as you think it is,” Alex breathed, “It’s understandable.”

“You know damn well it isn't,” Casey hissed, even though she knew Alex wasn't a liar. Her voice was higher in pitch, as though she were about to cry, because she was. Her hands balled into fists and she met Alex’s solemn gaze with a desperate, pleading one.

“Alex,” she begged, but the elder woman only shook her head gently.

“You have to ask me too,” Alex murmured, her voice still incredibly quiet, “Or I can't, in good conscience.”

“Fuck conscience,” Casey barked, exasperated, “You know that I need it, Alex, you can see, I don't want- I- <i>please<i>.”

“Use your words.”

Casey growled, low and in her throat, heads raising to grip at her hair before she sighed deeply and spun on her heel, facing the direction away from her. Alex did not take this as rejection- Casey was in a complicated state of mind right now. She understood that.

She could hear Casey’s breathing slow from agitated to intently calm, and then the faux blonde turned around, her jaw loose the way Alex had taught her- she kept too much tension in her mouth, and Alex was proud she had remembered to unlock it.

Her steps as she paced were the aggressive sort of desperation of a trapped apex predator, but when she slowly walked towards Alex, her footsteps were so soft her heels barely made a sound. Her eyes were downcast, but Alex did not take offense to that, either. Casey was a person with stature, with a drive to prove herself, and she considered this type of display as weakness. Alex had yet to convince her that it was a strength, but she hoped she would make progress.

“Alex,” Casey said again, and Alex was pleased as her voice had lost most of her agitated quality, “I would like to submit to you for the next few hours, as I … I believe relinquishing control would help me process. I think it would help calm me down. Please.”

“Good,” Alex said simply, a small, sympathetic smile forming on her lips, “Come sit, Casey, by me again.”

Casey did as she was told mechanically. This is what she had wanted. No decisions, no thoughts. For the time being, Alex would tell her exactly what to do when, and she wouldn't need to worry herself about anything other than following her directions.

Alex studied her face once she was sitting, raising her hands to cup Casey's cheeks. Her eyes were glassy, her bottom lip red from agitation. Alex leaned forward and kissed her bottom lip softly, briefly, but long enough for Casey to understand she had acknowledged it.

“Close your eyes,” she said, and when Casey did she kissed the space just above her eyelids, first on the left side, and then the right. Casey leaned into the motion slightly and Alex smiled, even though she knew Casey couldn't see it.

“Open,” Alex murmured, and green eyes slid back, gazing at her expectantly, although she seemed significantly less emotional now. She was entering the headspace she had wanted to be in, one where everything was manageable.

“I think your eyes are pretty,” Alex whispered, because it was intoxicating being able to compliment Casey when she would immediately deny or grow bashful, and although her eyes flickered slightly Casey made no reaction exactly as expected.

“Thank you,” Casey murmured back, her raspy tone low, mimicking Alex's tone of speech.

“Have you eaten adequately today?”

Normally Casey would probably skirt around the question, but her answers now were robotic. Alex watched as she perceived the question and then responded without considering the possible alterations, spitting out only the truth.

“No, I haven't.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” Alex affirmed, and Casey’s lip jerked in a miniscule, weak smile. Alex had known her behavior already well enough to know that Casey had skipped meals today, she had brought food for her already regardless. They both knew this, but Alex still considered her verbal communication to be important.

“I want you to straddle my lap,” she continued, “One knee here, and the other here.”

Casey did not hesitate to do so, which Alex was proud of her for.

One hand on the middle of Casey’s spine encouraged her to stay put as Alex leaned, picking up the bag she had placed on the counter and prying it open with one hand. A small styrofoam box held six pieces of jiaozi, and Alex noticed Casey’s eyes round slightly when she saw them. Alex chuckled.

“I would like to feed you,” Alex told her calmly, “Are you alright with that?”

Without moving her eyes from the jiaozi Casey hummed, her head bobbing in a small nod.

“You have to tell me, Casey.”

Green eyes flickered back up, narrowed again. She was stubborn. Casey’s life was full of her demons that lurked without words, prosecuting based on gruesome details one didn't want to speak of. She was used to using her own words as a weapon, and to take special care not to let her own words make her vulnerable. They both knew she wanted Alex to do this for her, but Alex wanted her to relax into honesty. Put things forth without hesitation, speak to her without assumptions or mind games. Vulnerability with Alex should not scare her.

“This is a space only for us,” Alex reminded her gently, “I need you to trust me enough to admit everything. If you want me to assume this, where will the line be drawn between what you expect and what I can't perceive? There is no place for miscommunication in this relationship, Casey. If you want something from me you will tell me verbally, or in writing, or I won't. I won't risk assumptions. Not with someone as important to me as you.”

Casey softed, gritting her teeth as she swallowed before tentatively opening her mouth. “Alex,” She whispered, “I would like that very much.”

“Good,” Alex replied, smiling into Casey’s lips as she kissed her again, a soft reward, gentle encouragement. Casey accepted the kiss greedily, chasing her mouth as Alex drew back, but a millisecond later obligingly pulling herself away.

Alex snapped the chopsticks between her thumb and middle finger, and then rearranged her hand to hold them properly, picking one up and holding her hand beneath it to ensure nothing dropped onto the clothes of either of them. Casey opened her mouth obediently, following the portion with her eyes until Alex put it in her mouth. She chewed, and Alex kissed her cheek.

“I’m sorry for being stubborn,” Casey murmured after she swallowed, while Alex collected another piece to repeat the cycle with.

As Casey bit the food on the chopsticks, Alex shook her head gently. “Don't be,” Alex soothed, “I understand it, and I will tolerate it, long as you don't allow yourself to grow frustrated. I don't want this to ever make you feel worse.”

There was silence as Casey chewed and then swallowed.

“It helps,” she affirmed quietly. “Thank you for doing it.”

[plotwhatplot]

illi mcmillin drabble 🖤

requested by @fawn-ehehehehehe <3 (love when my friends match my freak frfr) AND ALSO YALL BETTER NOT BULLY ME OK I TRIED IM SUPER DUPER NERVOUS ABT POSTING THIS ALR THIS IS MY FIRST POSTED SMUT THIS IS AN ACCOMPLISHMENT LET ME HAVE THIS😿😿💔💔💔

I think this kinda went from a drabble to a kinda smutfic?? Idk but it's way longer and more detailed than a drabble should be so atp this is like a rlly unprofessionally written fic but fuck it we ball 👅 ANYGAYS-

Remember kids illi mcmillin is fictional and not Gerard Way <3

Afab Illi mcmillin (she/her) x afab *but gender neutral* reader (no prns used)

Contents/cw: semi public sex, strap ons, vaginal sex, making out, anal plugs, bathroom sex, handcuffs, leashes, use of cunt in reference of the vagina,suggestive language, and guhhhhhh I fogor

Illi has been thinking about you all morning, staring at you any chance she got to do so, just letting you linger in her thoughts rent free. It's sweet really it is,

But the thing is, her thoughts on you this time weren't exactly.. safe for tumblr-

No, not at all, not one innocent thought in that head of hers, to be exact. God she was just so so horny she needed to get you in her dirty little paws as soon as possible!

So there you were, getting dragged into schools bathroom, illi locked you in one of the stalls with her and kissed you hard without hesitation.

But of course, you consented to all of this about a minute ago, as I say consent is sexy kids! but we don't have the time to write that do we? Nope! nuh uh!! we need to get this drabble drabbling and the sluts slutting! Now, where were we?

She kissed you so hard its like she was fuckin feral and you loved it, the way she gripped your waist hard but gently at the same time, ugh! she made you so hot ya just can't stand it! You started to get impatient and she noticed that and new exaaaactly what to do...

She broke the kiss and quickly reached into her bag to pull out a strap with the dildo pre-attachted, an anal plug, a leash and collar, a pair of handcuffs and a small container of lube, who the fuck brings this shit to school?? Illi mcmillin does! A girl always comes prepared <3 (How does she not get cought tho??)

So she turned you around so you faced the wall of the bathroom stall, pulled down your panties, and dolled you all up in her cute little toys as you whimpered, progressing to light moans as she put the plug in you (with lube ofc)

Illi loved using all this stuff on you, she thinks you look so pretty with all this stuff on you, the cuffs, the leash all of it, you're her sweet little slut!

She then put on the strap, which was easy being she wasn't wearing tights under her skirt that day (and neither where you), and turned you back around to face her. She asked you if it was okay for her to penetrate your cunt and you said yes (consent is sexy kids 🗣️📢) and just like that her "dick" is right up in there! Yay!!

She wasted no time with fucking right into you, slow but deep, tugging lightly at the leash as you whimpered softly. You squirmed in the handcuffs as she pulled in and out, increasing her pace slightly.

Illi started to pick up her pace, your small sounds soon became louder, shame she had to shut you up so no one hear :( she loves your noises..

She was fully fucking you with the strap now, hand over you mouth, pulling on the leash harder. As risky as it was to be doing in school, you loved it so so much!!

She kissed all over your neck as you let out muffled moans and curses into her palm. the sensory of everything was enough to make you collapse, the way the plug felt in your sensitive hole, the feeling of the collar tugging at your neck, the way the handcuffs made your wrists slightly red, the way illi thrusted hard into your cunt, God you loved it, and she loved it just as much!! She was rough but so kind and gentle at the same time..

soon you started to feel yourself getting close, you tried to tell illi but you could barely get your words out, but she understood! a girl can just tell those kinds of things ya know? (Gerard ref 👅)

So she kept pounding into you, slightly harder this time, pulling the leash a bit more too. she was getting close herself, oh of only you knew how much she got off on this!!

you twisted your hands around in the cuffs as heat boiled in your core (and illi's,) and after a couple more extra hard thrusts, oh god it's everywhere!!! You both came at the same time, pleasure washing over your bodies in a euphoric haze (A/N ok pop off Shakesqueer)

After a moment She cleaned you up and took the off (and out) the toys and such. once you both had your clothes back on she gave you a loving kiss on the forehead, she's so sweet <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(a/n) YAYAYAYAYAY LETS GO LESBIAN'S 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️📢📢📢📢📢🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

*ehem* SO-

OH GOOD GOLLY MY FIRST POSTED SMUT 😰😰😰😰😰😰 I have no clue how it took me 6 days to finish a literal DRABBLE but like I said fuck it we ball (it's taken me a matter of months to have progress on my other wips so this is kinda an accomplishment 💀) BUT YEAH I HOPE U LIKE THIS FAWN!! 🖤🖤 sorry I kept u waiting 😭 I hope y'all like this too guhhhh have a good day/night/evening :D *ascends into stardust*

Also if I made any typos or anything pls tell me !

[murderofravens]

Hi Raven !

hope you are doing well love. Just wanted to compliment you and basically (or kind of yap idk) about LADYBUG. it was magnificent and beautifully written. It scratched a deep part of my daddy issues itch I didn't even know about. Once i was thinkin abt it and had tears in my eyes for a moment ......

I was also wondering how dad inhowould react to us wearing traditional/cultural clothes since I'm a south asian too (pakistani) and qameez, shalwar/kurtiz are an essential part of me or a sari too !

how would he react, what would he say. you can make this a short drabble or give me your thoughts. once again I would like to kiss your hands for presenting us with a masterpiece such as dad inho !!

thank you nonnie! and here's a little something i cooked up in 10 minutes, i hope it's good

pairing: hwang inho x south asian fem reader

warnings: fluff! inho calls himself appa, inho in a desi environment basically

"you're doing it wrong!"

"because you keep shaking!"

"it's 'cause you have that look in your eyes—"

"will you just trust me for once?"

you sigh in defeat, and inho chuckles— amused. you admire him like this— eyebrows furrowed in focus, pouty lips downturn. you love his mouth so much. his hands shake slightly as he applies henna to your hands; he's trying to draw a flower. don't doubt him— he's not a bad artist. he's a big fan of van gogh, studied a lot of art books. he liked to paint, back when he was younger. it was a therapeutic outlet. but this time your hand is his canvas, and he absolutely cannot mess his baby's design up.

"but the circle doesn't—" you whine, and he looks up. the warning glare he shoots you is playful, but it does the job of shutting you up.

"i didn't want to do it," he reminds you, finishing another petal, "but you forced me."

"i didn't force you into nothing," you pout, and he laughs. "will you write your initials into it?"

"are you sure?" he quirks an eyebrow, leans back to sir cross legged on the floor— your palm securely placed in his bigger hand. "your family would see the design."

you wave him off with your free hand, your bangles jingling with every movement. "not if you write it in hangul."

he grins and gets to work. you look at him fondly, and he pulls away proudly as he finishes the job. "any other complaints?"

"no, sir." you tease. you hold your hand up, brightly grin at the flowers he drew on your palm— he hid his initials within one of the leaves. it makes you blush. "it's perfect."

he gives you a victorious salute before grabbing your ankle. he places your foot upon his lap, "i got you a gift."

you blink at him, putting your hand to the side, careful not to mess his handiwork, "what gift?"

he brings something out of his pocket— an intricate gold anklet, laden with tiny bells. you gasp, and he gives you a wink before gently securing it around your ankle.

"pretty jewellery for my pretty girl." he mumbles. he lifts your foot and places a kiss to your ankle, making you blush.

"oh stop!" you giggle, pulling your leg away from his grasp. he chuckles along with you, and you rise from your seat and run around the bed. the anklet jingles with every step, and he chases after you— looking elegant as ever in his black sherwani. you went shopping with him and he saw the monster you turn into whenever you can't find the clothes that you like. that's why he didn't bother bargaining when you finally found something you thought was perfect— a pink chikankari dress, embroidered with white flowers and pearls. to match with you slightly, inho's carrying a pink rose in the pocket of his sherwani.

you look over your shoulder and in that moment he grabs the delicate fabric of your white dupatta and pulls. it slides off your shoulder and you laugh, turning around to grab it back with your free hand, dramatically covering the exposed skin of your neck.

"hey! not fair!"

"all's fair in love and war," inho replies with a theatrical edge to his voice, and with a strong tug he pulls you into himself. you collide into his chest and his hand wraps around your waist. you playfully glare up at him.

"come on," he leans down, brushes your noses together, "won't you give appa a kiss?"

your cheeks heat up and you huff, "let go! what if my father comes in?"

his eyes crinkle amusedly, "why, i'm right here."

"shut up," you chuckle heartily, your stomach erupting with butterflies. he leans down again, and you gently peck his mouth. he hums, and you sigh dreamily, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"it's beautiful." you whisper, "thank you."

"anything for my love."

you grin and lean up to kiss him again, but the loud knocking on your door separates you two. your mother calling your name and a bunch of aunts whispering in the background grabs your attention— and you and inho exchange a cheeky, knowing glance before moving to the door.

dating someone your father's age comes with it's risks but another glance at your henna reminds you it's worth it.

[tojisteddy]

After Care with Toji.

cw: no use of ‘y/n’ I use ‘[+]’, depicting after care (obviously), sub space, softdom!toji, fluff, dom/sub dynamics, treading the line of dd/lg (anyone could digest this), pet names (baby, doll, mama, ma), it’s LONG (idk how many words, I know know it’s LONG), toji is the sweetest bf ever.

Toji knew your limits. He knew just how much he could push and pull, throw you around until you were delirious. And he knew when you were fucked out of your mind, when you couldn’t think properly, you who’d only knew how to moan and spew gibberish.

He’d had half of his manhood in you, slowly sliding out of your gushing cunt as he looked down at your ravished body. He had hickies and bite marks from the top of your neck to your toes, both of juices on your stomach down an absolute mess coming from both of your thighs. He adored the sight of it.

He gently lifted your chin to look at him, your eyes kept wandering around, “no, no, look at me mama, focus.” His voice was gentle but it was a command.

It sorta sounded like God was calling you, maybe the pearly gates were opening. You wouldn’t have minded.

“Where’s yer head at? Tell me.” He always asked when you were blissed out.

You couldn’t verbally answer though. You reached for the back of his knee and tapped. Once, twice, three times. Toji’d known from the first tap alone you were calling it quits, he sat you up on the pillows. Running to go get a damp towel or two to clean you off.

“Such a good girl f’ me today Doll. Did so well.”

You hiccuped, rubbing your face that was once full of tears. “Really?”

Fuck, you were so damn cute like this.

“Course mama,” he lifted your hand and kissing your knuckles and intertwined your fingers, “Loved bein with you. You love it too?”

“Course papa.” You replied, using his same sweet tone.

The ends of his lips curved up, leaving a quick kiss at your temple, “Yer so sweet baby.”

You hadn’t even realized when Toji finished cleaning you up and had sat you up, legs dangling off the bed. You felt his fingers going into your hair.

“I-I can take care ‘f myself Toji.”

“Sure you can ma, but not right now. Let me help you.”

Togi was consistent with after care. It was something he learned how to do after being with so many women, to look out for them. Help them clean up, get them properly conscious, relaxed.

It was different with you, though.

Not that he wasn’t a fan of it already, but after pushing you to your limit, manhandling you every which way known to man, forcing you to take everything he had— he loved taking care of you. To the point that even when his dick K.O’ed you into darkness, you’d wake up at 3 am, the moonlight slithering it’s way into the your shades bedroom through the curtains. You’d sit all the way up, rubbing your tired eyes to find yourself completely wiped down, in one of Toji’s sweatshirts that hung off him just right but gave you sweater paws, a pair of underwear and a scarf to protect your hair because he knew you’d be grumbling all morning if you woke up with out.

He didn’t mind because he loved you.

You, who never asked too much of him or pushed him too hard. You, who felt every need to be independent, and he had to teach you to rely on him. You, who had every wall built up as far as the eye can see, worse than him— it was Toji who broke every one of them down, breaking his own in the process.

Yes, you were his play thing in the bedroom, a messy girl, his slut— but everywhere else, you were his baby, his gorgeous girl, cute future momma to his kids, his lover.

Oh how he absolutely adored you.

“What’ddya wanna do, huh? Take a drive, eat, a bath?” He had put your curls up with one of the silk scrunchies you left lying around, leaving peppering kisses on the back of your neck.

“A bath.” You mumbled.

“Yeah?” He carefully rubbed your hips, thankfully they didn’t bruise this time.

“Go on, take a shower first ‘nd I’ll meet you there. You know what to do.”

With a pat to your ass, you were off. Legs wobbly from so much action.

Toji took care of everything. From changing the sheets, lighting candles, playing whatever music you wanted to hear to wind down, running the overly hot bath water with bubbles, just how you liked it. Whatever you wanted at the moment, Toji would give it to you. He loved how reliant you were when you were blissed out.

He liked it when you were completely relaxed, completely trusting of him with not a care in the world. Your only focus was him and being with him. He also loved being needed by you, how you were like two peas in a pod— both of you needing each other.

You pressed your head on the cool tile of the shower, closing your eyes as the soap and water ran down your body. It felt soooo nice against your skin.

“Oi, if yer tired sit on the hinoki!”

He snapped you out of whatever trance you were in with the wall, but you closed your eyes again with a scuff, “fuck off… ‘m not tired… You’re fuckin tired.”

Toji chuckled, setting both of your pajamas on the bathroom counter and then joining you under the hot water.

“You talkin shit?” An amused look on his face, leaning down closer to see you. As if he wasn’t already following your every move, just to make sure you were safe on your own.

“You get in my face… talkin- talkin ‘bout me… you’rrre the one yellin. Yoouu must be tired.” You slurred out, a grin forming on your face.

“ ‘S that right?”

“ ‘M always righ—”

You yelped out, Tojis devious fingers immediately going to your tummy, your arm pits— anywhere he knew he could get a bustle of laughter out of you. At the best and worst times, Toji was a literal tickle monster. He could get anything out of you that way.

“That’s— haha- you’re cheating! Ah! Hehee- you cheater!”

“Come on! I know yer tired, I’ll stop if you sit.”

“Oh, come awn!”

Without another word, Toji had you trapped between his body and the tile wall of the shower, tickling you so much it hurt.

You groaned, still giggling up a storm, slapping his large arms that held you, “Damn it! I give! I give!”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers were off of you body, taking your hand and guiding you to the hinoki.

“Doesn’t that feel better?”

“Whatever.”

It did feel better, your legs had been contorted in every in every way imaginable. Above his head, above your head, spread out from the Atlantic Ocean to the pacific. It felt good to take a rest.

Your eyes trailed up Toji’s body, skin riddled with scratch marks from his arms to his back, a few hickies on his neck, water cascading down his toned muscles, chiseled cheek bones—

“You starin mama?”

Toji hummed to himself, he loved when your eyes were on him. They were so pretty to him, especially when you were in the sun and he could really get a look at them. Like two Hershey kisses staring back at his green ones.

“Look so cute when you blush.”

“Shut up! You can’t even see it!”

He couldn’t, your brown skin didn’t let it peek through.

But it was in the way your eyes immediately went else where, unconsciously going to feel your heated cheeks or even trying to hide your face that had a small toothy smile— so fucking cute.

“Is the bath done?” Your eyes going to the tub a few feet away back to Toji who was washing his body with a wash cloth.

“Course, but you always fall asleep in there Doll ‘nd I told you I don’t like. It’s not safe.”

“I’ve never fallin asleep in there!”

His eyes met yours, eyebrow raised. Try it [+], I dare you.

“Maybe once.”

He shook his head, going back to washing his body. Unbelievable.

“More than once.” It came out more like a question even though you knew the answer to it.

Toji peered down at you, your eyes back at the tub. The steam was rising from the water, bubbles floating to and fro in the water. Slowly disappearing. Then your eyes went back to him. Big brown doe eyes, a tilt of your head and the cherry on top; a pout on your two tone lips. Not two big, not too small- just enough to push.

You were hell.

How could he say no when you were looking up at him like that.

“Fine- fuck baby, take your time!”

You slipped twice getting to the tub. Once because of how wet your foot was because of the water and another time because your legs felt exactly like the water under your foot. If it weren’t for the bath, you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Now you would be able to, a little limp like you worked out (I mean you probably could consider what you did an hour ago a workout) but you’d be able to!

Toji was right there with you, towel in his lap just barely covering his manhood, sitting on the hinoki and washing his hair. Talking to you about anything from the lunch you packed him last week to the new sake he wanted to try. You loved it, Toji’s voice was like a melody, deep, scratchy because of all the cigarettes yet smooth— a shot of whiskey.

“Scoot.”

You moved forward so Toji could sit behind you, it was his spot whenever you took baths together. After care or not. He loved getting to hold you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, leaving kisses at every place he left a hickey, maybe placing one or two new ones there.

Tonight was quiet, The Light In by Lana playing. You really were tired, unwilling to fight it but at peace— right where you needed to be. Toji was rubbing your arms, your thighs, your shoulders, just in the right places— he had some godly hands. Toji looked at you, who was completely slumped, your head resting against the tub, your long lashes slowly meeting each again and again.

“Ready for bed?”

“Mmm.”

You don’t know how, or when but by the time you’d realized— Toji had you in bed, teeth brushed, pajamas and scarf on and was rubbing the small of your back. Whispering how you did so well for him, how good you were, his adorable baby— a total sweetheart.

“Love you papa.” You mumbled, drifting off without a second thought.

Toji smiled, taking in your gorgeous face one more time before closing his eyes.

“Love you too mama.”

[gomzdrawfr]

content warning: blood

Loyal to a fault

bonus + other versions:

Bonus:

Alt:

the words on Ghost's body reads:

LOVE (level of violence)

it takes a monster to destroy a monster (poorly cropped i apologize)

Loyal Dog

Vēnor (Latin verb for hunt, chase)

this is something very different to what I usually do I hope yall don't mind....also this was me when I was sharing this with my friends...because priceghost/ghostprice dynamic really gets a grip on me

[ruinix]

also i cant stop thinking abt shotgunning quinn bc FUCK

shotgunning QUINNIFER?! (IS THIS AN ASK FOR A DRABBLE?!). Some thoughts--NOPE, it became a drabble as we can see. Just a mini drabble though :> (this is simply in your POV) [Note: I edited it; 503-> 575 words...oops)

Beers and Dares

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Alcohol Consumption, A bit suggestive (nothing really happened), just Quinn shotgunning lmao

Word: 575 words | Masterlist

Quinn is the person who wouldn’t reveal his party tricks until he was given the spotlight or a dare—rather, taunted to do so by a dare. He has that secretive flare on him.

He would rather just watch people have fun first. His observant eyes would watch everyone and everything they do. Then he joins in his own way—in the banters and games. Although, he always holds back, hence the dares. It’s a reward for you to learn his tricks, so you take it up yourself to make him show you. Today, you decided to see him shotgun a beer.

Swiping a beer from the fridge, turning on your phone camera, you march to Quinn who’s just relaxing outside balcony. The moment he catches your arrival; you toss the beer at him. He freezes, barely catching the can. His eyes are wide from surprise.

“Do it,” you demand with a grin.

“Do what?” He tries to act clueless, but you see how his hand goes to his pocket where he keeps his car keys.

“Shotgun it. I dare you.” You smirk at him, using your weapon that he couldn’t resist: your puppy dog eyes.

Not even a sense of turmoil brew in his eyes. He immediately brings out his key, turning the can to the side, punching a hole, and fucking shotgun it with ease.

You aren’t really sure that he can do this, but Quinn is doing it. All you can do is watch with your lips parted, your eyes wide, the camera still fucking rolling. Thank fuck it is.

Quinn looks absolutely hot.

His Adam’s apple bobs for every massive gulp of the beer. His jaw is so sharp as it’s tipped up. His eyes are burning into your soul. The beer—that drips down his lips, down his scruffy chin, down his neck, down his collarbones, down to his white shirt—is so fucking alluring that you had to squeeze your legs together.

There’s no fucking way you just got turned on by that.

Oh, but you are.

When he finishes, he’s the one smirking. He smugly wipes his chin with his sleeve. Still, the trail on his neck remains and it’s making you feral. Why is he so hot? Why.

“Is there anything else that you want me to do?” His deep voice breaks whatever haze you are in.

Ending the video, you huff at him, “I fucking knew it! You were holding back during last week’s boat trip!”

He leans an elbow on the railing. He’s still smirking at you. His eyes travels from your face down to your body—so painstakingly slow like he’s stripping you. One piece of clothing at a time. When his eyes drops to your legs, you are already burning.

You feel hot all over. So much that you have to lean on the glass door for support.

His smirk only grows wider as he lifts his gaze to yours.

“I remember shotgunning two cans with Jack. You just weren’t there, my Love.”

What the fuck. What does he mean he downed not one but two—

“Well, can you do the same? I bet you can’t,” he mocks.

Now, that gets you riled up. Who cares if he looks hot with beer running down his neck. Who cares if he's too fucking hot doing simple things. It's on.

You glare at him, turning back to get more beer to prove him wrong.

-> Next (Part 2: Beers and Kisses)

[stsgluver]

synopsis. you were once gojo’s girlfriend but left due to the pressures of jujutsu. now you’re back as a teacher at tokyo.

wc. 490

series link !

"blue looks good on you."

gojo knew you were there, he'd recognise your cursed energy anywhere. still, the sound of your voice after several years without startled him more than he would've cared to admit.

it looks better on you, is what he wanted to say. instead he gave you a grin, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at you. "everything looks good on me."

you laughed, and god did he miss that - the way your eyes crinkled and the way you covered your mouth with your hand. the sound of your voice was honey and it soothed his ache of being apart from you for so long.

"glad to know you're still humble, oh honoured one," you teased and gojo felt his cheeks heat up. it was an unfamiliar sensation - the feeling of embarrassment. yes, he may have once declared himself as such, but as he stood in the presence of you, he only felt honoured to be so close to you. if you moved any closer, your shoulders could've brushed against one another and he would've allowed that. infinity off.

"you're back just for an exchange event?" gojo asked with brows furrowed. his students were training for such in the field in front of you, only megumi vaguely aware of the significance you being there held.

it was the same field the two of you would sneak out to a decade prior just to watch the stars.

"didn't yaga tell you? i'm a teacher now," you quirked a brow as you watched his jaw drop, mouth slightly agape. "yeah believe me i'm just as shocked as you."

it took a moment for him to compose himself as he struggled to find the right words. "jujutsu was killing you," gojo's tone softened to just above a whisper. he was wearing glasses that had by now tipped to the edge of his nose as he studied you with those ocean blue eyes swirling with a formidable power.

your smile dropped slightly. there was no point in avoiding the elephant in the room forever. "losing you killed me."

you cleared your throat and took a step back. three and a half years of unspoken words created a wall stronger than his infinity and gojo wanted nothing more than to personally crush every brick.

nodding your head over to the practicing students, you changed the subject, "i've been assigned to help you out with the first years as i get used to being back so try to go easy on me." gojo managed to muster up a small chuckle at your jab at your different grade levels. he didn't respond, however, and turned his attention back to the students.

if he spoke, he'd be on his knees, promising you that he'd never hurt you or allow anyone else to harm you now that you were here again.

he'd lost you once and he'd be damned if he did that again.

[teddybeartoji]

this going to be a proper wordvomit but i've been thinking about a fucked up little dazai thing,, like what if you two were at the port mafia together when you were younger? orphaned and molded into a perfect little killing machine alongside with him and chuuya.

oh, but what's your ability? well, it's awfully similar to yosano's but it's.. more selfish. while she can also save and heal others, you can't. your ability only works on yourself - you're unkillable. even the smallest cuts fade on your skin, the remainders of everything you've gone through disappearing within hours. you still feel it though. the pain.

you just never fucking die.

tied up, tortured. beaten. cut. shot at. broken bones and bruises. you've seen them all, you've felt them all. but it shouldn't matter.

it shouldn't. this is who you are, right?

you've seen people die hundreds of times, wishing it were you instead. what is the point of this ability if you can never actually do anything useful with it? you're one of the best sharpshots at the port mafia and you know you're way around just about every melee weapon there is but you're still no real competition to the people with real powers. you're just another tool, another soldier. just a shell of a person, sent out mission after mission, no matter whether the fractured bones have already healed or not.

anger builds. shame builds.

something murky.

and it only gets worse after dazai leaves. he understood. he didn't ever say it, but he did. and now he's gone. he's left you behind; there's nobody to lick your wounds or to match your tone and darkness.

and then word gets around that there's someone with an ability similar to yours but better. more useful. and you just... lose it.

mori has no hold on you. he sees it in your eyes, so he doesn't stop you from leaving. you don't say goodbye to chuuya, only leaving him a fancy bottle of wine as a thank you for always having your back. and a note. something along the lines of seeking out your other half.

he's the only one who can do it.

you dream of him wrapping his bandaged hands around your neck and squeezing until you can feel tears dropping onto your face, until your vision blurs, until you can't breathe. until you can't come back anymore. of course, he wouldn't want to do it. he's killed more than anybody could count but with you, it's different. he's finally found something to live for and you haven't. he offers for you to come to the ada with him, he assures you that fukuzawa would listen to him but it doesn't matter.

you're smiling and he isn't. it isn't funny anymore. the gun pointed at kunikida isn't funny anymore. dazai won't do it unless you force him; you know it's going to be hard but you accept it as your one last mission. you will draw your one final breath at the hands of the man who's always been there for you. your friend. your partner.

the only one who should understand.

should.

but maybe he's not who you thought he was. maybe he truly has changed. maybe he really is a better man now. it doesn't matter. you'll break him one last time and let him live his new life. it's only fair.

[moongreenlight]

Greek mythology/the Olympians has been my hyperfixation for going on two decades now and I just… Soap as Dionysus.

Always brings a good bottle of wine and a few rooted cuttings of ivy as a housewarming gift. If he’s fixed his attention on you, he’ll also put a few sex toys in the little bag he brings. Puts them right on top for the pleasure of seeing your scramble to try to shove them in a drawer or tuck the whole gift in the closet.

He’s a great time. Has this intoxicating way about him. Like life is a stage and he’s the director. Playful and fun, though a little too enthusiastic at times. Handsy when the two of you hang out. You assume that’s just his nature and excuse it accordingly. Hard not to, gorgeous man that he is. A divine kind of handsome. Like his features are an eons-old amalgamation of all the most beautiful features humans have ever had.

And he gets strangely possessive, even after you’ve been nudging back his wandering hands or putting your hand between his mouth and your neck all night. Borders on vindictive and aggressive if he’s not in the right headspace.

It’s a bit terrifying to see him snapping his teeth in the face of some man at the bar who had only just asked you if you’d wanted a drink. You swear later in the night you see him babbling feverishly to a group of his friends. It sounds like total gibberish, and his friends look even more confused than you feel, but his eyes are wide as saucers and his hands are flying about hazardously. You don’t think much of it after Soap pulls you by the waist to the corner booth and tips a cocktail up to your mouth.

He keeps you out until all hours of the night. Insists on staying jovial. Club-hopping to find the best crowd, best music, best conversation. Keeps you up and active for so long that the confines of reality start to become fuzzy at the edges.

Sexuality expressed through bodies writing and twisting in drunken dance. Bumping up against one another. Collecting strangers and your own sweat in fat beads on your skin that make you shiver when they get heavy enough to trail down the small of your back.

When the room is spinning enough to make you stumble just a bit and you’re unable to do anything but giggle about it, he’s somehow able to make sneaking off into the family bathroom together seem like a good idea. He seems just as drunk as you are, slinging an arm around your shoulders when you walk. Bellowing a laugh when his hand grazes your tit but making no attempt to pull it away.

It’s less easy to be oblivious when you’re in the bathroom together. The muffled music filtering through the bottom of the door. He’s pressing up against you even though now there’s no crowd to excuse his practically grinding his groin on your hip.

It smells like sweat and generic brand bathroom cleaner. You hum when he staggers to the urinal instead of griping at him about how crass it is to take a piss right in front of you. He props himself up on the wall with one hand and a moment after you hear the teeth of his zipper come undone, he lets out a throaty, satisfied groan.

You busy yourself looking in the mirror. Checking your makeup. Seeing if you look as drunk as you feel. It’s filthy. There’s a web of cracks coming from the bottom left where it looks like someone tried to send their fist through to the wall behind it. It makes you a bit dizzy to look at and you have to bend at the waist to get close enough to see the way your mascara has smudged all around your eyes.

And all of a sudden there’s a burning heat behind you. Sickly, feverish heat pressing straight into the pillows of your ass. Soap’s spidery reflection shows up just over your smile sporting a wicked grin. Teeth and eyes flashing.

You try and swat him away, all too used to his comings-on, but he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips bruisingly hard.

“C’mon, hen. Been driving me mad all night. Relax a bit. Jus’ need this. Need you. Please.”

He has to lay flat over your back to hiss in your ear. Teeth clenched like he really needs to put some effort behind his words to sound polite. Like a petulant child who’d just been reminded by their mother to practice manners.

You were practiced in batting back his advances, but for some reason his grit made you falter. His gaze seemed to be burning a hole through you in the mirror. The idea that something inside him was hitting a roaring boil that he couldn’t stop from flowing over made your brain go foggy. The opposite of sobering. His aberrant need was contagious and catching quick.

He smelled like sweat and cheap cologne and dry, sweet wine and woods. Flirty and masculine and overwhelming. And he’s warm and strong behind you, even if he’s pushing his hard cock into you.

Who were you to deny him the pleasure of snapping his hips into your backside a few times? Letting his fingers impatiently tug at the button of your jeans and hastily tug them down with your underwear until they pooled around your ankles?

It didn’t help that the sound of him sending a glob of spit into his hand made you clench around nothing. A familiar warmth gathering between your thighs that made you shift a bit to chase the momentary relief even a touch of friction could provide.

He couldn’t even afford you the decency of pretending not to see. No. Instead he points a spotlight on you and insists you perform for him again. Nudging your legs apart and pressing his thigh flush against your core while purring the filthiest things in your ear.

“Ken I jus’ needed to wear you down, mm? Thought ‘bout this before we went out. Always did get sloppy when you drink. Jus’ needed a little push. That’s it -Jesus- cunt’s so wet. Gonna take good care of her.”

And the club is so packed full of drunken, dancing bodies that hardly anyone notices the way you two stumble out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Even though you’re still fumbling with the button of your jeans with shaking hands.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

love had always been such a strange concept for obanai. as he grew up, drifting up the ranks as a demon slayer, tethered to the ropes of his past, he found himself comparing the things around him to his childhood. he learned that the love he’d known had been shallow—controlling, obsessive, and likely not deserving of the title ‘love.’ it was strange, to learn that something seemingly so important in life had been taught in all the wrong ways to him. when he watched the love that other people described, the contrast was apparent. love seemed to be gentle and sweet and forgiving, all the opposites of the one he’d grown up with. it was, truthfully, so, very terrifying.

sometimes, he wanted to try out love. sometimes he paused, and watched one of the hashira, finding her so enticingly alluring. he wondered if what he felt for her was love—the way he wanted to give her the world. but he realized, after a while, that he did not deserve the love. because love was supposed to be gentle, and sweet, and forgiving, and obanai was none of such things. sometimes, he tucked in on himself, because he knew that he neither deserved to love or to be loved. somewhere in him, he acknowledged that fear played a part, too. but he didn’t want to admit it, not consciously, not out loud. he didn’t want to give in to his fear that he might one day twist into the love he’d been taught, and hurt someone. hurt her.

there were times, while he resided in the rengoku household, that he longed for the love they had. ruka—kyojuro’s mother—had terrified him, at first. because she resembled his family in a way—the same long, black hair, and softer features. shinjuro had never scared him. his face was sharper, rougher, and unfamiliar. in that way, it comforted obanai. because it was different from what he’d grown up with. so ruka, in her familiar-ness, had stolen obanai’s comfort for a while. but he watched from afar, occasionally, as she held kyojuro, and senjuro, so tenderly. her eyes would soften, and though she held an impassive expression more often than not, her lips would smile and then her whole face would follow. she lit up, even if it wasn’t obvious, when she loved her children. ruka was the first love obanai witnessed—and it was the first one he craved. he wondered if his own family had ever looked at him with such a beautiful gaze before. he doubted it. (even as a child, he was very perceptive. a skill he loathed to have, but wielded it all the same).

shinjuro offered a different love. a louder, firmer one—like a big hug. he had changed throughout the years, and had grown distant. but before, he burned like a fire in the midst of the snowiest winters—he was someone people huddled around, and felt safe in his presence. someone kyojuro, and senjuro, and obanai looked up to, and hoped to be like him one day. the encouragement he coaxed kyojuro and obanai through, in the months obanai had stayed with them, had always been persistent and sweet. he was a savior, of sorts. obanai was always fond of him—and he came to place his fondness as a form of love. in a way, he’d loved shinjuro, even when things changed. love, obanai realized, was hardly susceptible. if it stood true and real, it was difficult to dampen. the sort of love obanai had been shown as a child was replaceable. obanai, to his family, had been replaceable. there would be moments of dismay, but they would’ve gotten over it in less than a minute. he knew that to be truer than a fact.

becoming a demon slayer, and eventually a hashira, had stolen many experiences of life from obanai. he’d never minded—because he’d lacked the knowledge of what could’ve happened if he’d had a normal life. the years blurred past, irrelevant when all they held were days spent training until he passed out. he’d long since decided that being a demon slayer was all he could and would do; the acceptance came easily for him. it felt as if he’d been destined to take this path in life—from being a prize object to a demon, to staying with a hashira for months, it all seemed to be something to eventually guide him to this occupation. he let himself become what he was supposed to. forgot that there was ever the question of love. when he became a hashira, he learned appreciation and inclusion. but he never considered love. not until she joined, did he even blink in the direction of it. (he figured out, eventually, that it was because he hated the love he’d learned. why would he want to expect something he loathed?)

contemplating love was always a circle. going around and around—obanai wanted to experience love, he wanted to see it first-hand, but he did not deserve it, yet he couldn’t help the longing to understand it. it spun him around, confused him, and he almost hated it for that.

when he’d understood his only purpose in life was to kill demons, and then die, love had slipped from his mind. even as young as he’d been at first, he was unable to wrap his mind around the possibility that love could actually be his, so he’d long since given up on it. when she joined the ranks of the hashira, obanai had paused in his tracks. she was beautiful, and sweet, enriching his life in ways he’d never imagined possible. moreover, she was the love hashira. such a strange coincidence—to fall in love, for the first time, with the pillar of love. many times, he convinced himself she was underserving of someone as bleak as him. many times, he’d dug his own grave, horrified that he’d even considered tainting her perfection, but equally tumbling into the anxiety that he would never amount to anything to the one person he’d grown to love. love was not obanai’s, no matter how hard he tried to attain it. it just didn’t fit. he knew he’d ruin everything for her, and for himself, so he let it hurt instead. that, at least, he understood. (although he wondered if love and pain were closely acquainted. they did seem to clash often, in obanai’s life).

everyone died eventually, and obanai was no exception to that. he did die, both earlier and later than he’d imagined. he thought he wouldn’t mind—had always toyed with the fact that he’d die without regrets. but, for some inexplicable reason, he wished he could’ve loved. could’ve been loved. it hurt to know that his entire life had truly been fated to never be loved.

as his mind tried slipping away, finally retiring to the freedom of death, wanting to exist where consequences did not, his life snagged onto something. someone. and he found, in his arms, a woman. one of whom he loved. he wondered what she was doing there, for a moment, before he understood: she was dying, too. and it hurt so badly. this must be love, he realized; to wish that the inevitable could be stopped. for her. he did not want her to die, even when he knew it would happen regardless.

for his entire life, obanai had never understood love. it was an unfamiliar, faraway thing he’d never had the pleasure to indulge himself with. he’d spent many years chasing after it, had seen how wonderful it could be, and had wished to experience it himself. then he’d denied himself it, when it began to grow too tempting, because he did not deserve to long for something as precious as love. but always, always, he’d seen it as something anyone would want—would need, even. had imagined it to be overwhelmingly beautiful, and amazing. warmth sweeping over him, or soothed into the luxury of feeling relaxed. never had he thought it’d hurt. never had he considered that it was a double-edged sword—ready to stab him in the back.

pain and love correlated with one another, he’d grown to find. though the seeds of that thought had begun to bud long ago, he never let it bloom in his conscience until he approached death. to love was to accept that there would be loss. an ache that refused to fade, even when his life seeped out.

then why had love always been said to be gentle, and sweet, and forgiving? he didn’t understand. obanai would never understand love. perhaps he truly was underserving of it. love was strange, because it was never for him.

[soulsforsales]

Is it obsessive if I spend my free time reading fanfics about Jason Todd and my other free time daydreaming about him in a maladaptive way? Yes. Do I care? Not at all.

[starry-sophrosyne]

me realizing i havent ever posted my initial designs for tox and leo/ive stopped talked about ttos as a whole:

[echolocalia]

He then realises with a certain gravity that Arthur Pendragon has not recognised the man in his reflection is a long, long time.

He can actually pinpoint the moment.

He was wandering the halls, just as he was now. He couldn’t have been more than nine summers old.

He remembers looking into the mirror and grinning, a wobbly, gap-toothed grin, he had been unsure of himself, but now he felt like he could fly. He had just unwrapped the bandage from his first ‘battle wound’. Squire trained had started that day, he had nicked himself on a sword.

That was before father actually began to acknowledge his existence and began getting very hurtful in his words.

An older Arthur looks back at him in the mirror, weathered and battle-worn, with too many scars to count, eyes red and face splotchy, he will hear no more of what his father has to say.

[shoot-i-messed-up]

…ngl the Ilana & Rick dynamic was more interesting before they fucked

[ruinix]

A date with Q? Movies or Coffee?

Hello, lovely. Pardon the mistakes coz I typed it directly here. Maybe, movies 🥰🥰🥰 Too many movies out right now, and I cannot choose so...i didn't mention any. I decided to make titles now...like who am I? It's hard tho (im sobbing)

Popcorn and Sweets

TW/CW: None, Fluff, Kisses, You’re stubborn (aka a bit bratty) and Quinn isn’t having it, a slight suggestive tone (on one or two sentences but i didn't elaborate)

Count: 1499 words | Masterlist

You’re freezing. Quinn almost stands and drags you out of the cinema. The only that stops him is how your eyes—so wide and round—are glued on the big screen. He can’t just ruin the experience for you. He knows that you love movies.

Although, he knew it. The sweater you had on isn’t thick enough. He told you many times to change into a thicker sweater. Your shared closet is filled to brim with them of similar designs. Of course, you didn’t listen. He even brought a spare hoodie that he instructed you to hold and carry, but you left it in the car. Because you’re a brat. You could’ve just told him to carry it for you. He was already carrying your purse. It doesn’t matter if he has to hold another thing for you. He’ll even carry you. But no. You left the hoodie and now, you are freezing.

Another shiver from you and Quinn is outright fussing over you, wrapping his arms and rubbing his hands over your arms.

“My Love,” he calls. You curl further into his arms. “Too cold?”

“Yes,” you whisper, teeth clattering.

That’s it. Quinn quickly takes off his hoodie, not caring about your initial protest minutes ago. You didn’t want his hoodie—declining him a few times already. You are still complaining, huffing and crossing your arms while turning away from him. You are so stubborn.

Don’t you know hypothermia is dangerous? Not that you can get one in a theater…or can you? Fuck, now he’s overthinking.

And you are still huffing.

At him.

“Stop being a brat.” He forces the hoodie over your head.

When he notices how he ruined your hair, panic grips him. A lump forms in his throat. He just messed up the hair you were so proud of. He’s about to say sorry, but the words die on his tongue, because you are fighting him. Not because of your hair, no. You’re fighting his effort to put his hoodie on you.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I don’t need it,” you whisper-yell. Your voice trembles, but you don’t even care. “I have my own sweater.”

Are you fucking serious? What do you mean ‘you don’t need it’? You’re fucking freezing. He can feel the tremors wreck your body. You just agreed that it’s too cold. Maybe the cold has gotten in you. Maybe you’re already fucking delirious. This is not okay even for you.

He can’t have you brave the cold when he has his jacket, can’t have you be so uncomfortable and cold that you must curl up into him for heat. He won’t be complaining—about you leaning into him for warmth, because he loves your proximity—when you’re not trembling like this, but you are.

You must be fucking crazy.

When you’re about to pull off the hoodie, Quinn grips your shoulders, shaking you once. “No. You will wear it.”

“Or what?” you challenge.

His reply is immediate. “Or I will not drag you out and make sure you won’t be able to see this movie at all.”

You don’t look convinced. Maybe you don’t really like this movie after all. Another shiver has you crossing your arms, yet you keep pouting and not wanting his hoodie.

So he adds, for extreme measure, “No cuddles here and tonight.”

“You’re mean,” you gasp, waiting for him to take back his words.

Quinn won’t.

You finally put on his hoodie, murmuring about how ridiculous this—he—is, about how your sweater was enough, about how he is not cuddling you right now. So, Quinn grabs and made you attached to his side. You might have forgotten how he got his arms wrapped around you prior to this scuffle. It’s fine because he’s here to do it again.

It’s nice you didn’t argue more, but also, he wants you to. You’re so cute with your chin tipped up. He could just eat you up. Literally. Quinn can’t stop himself from turning his head and pressing firm kisses into your hair. He wants to bite your cheek, so he does. He holds your jaw and just nip at your cheek once…maybe twice.

“What are you doing?” You giggle.

“Nothing.” The corner of his lip curls up. “Watch the movie, princess.”

Quinn catches the blush creeping up your neck and cheek even in dim lighting. He knows that you like being called princess. It makes you feel special. You are special. It makes him feel special for being worthy enough to call you that.

The panic and anger from the whole you being cold seems faraway. With one more kiss to your cheek, Quinn settles with you right next to him. Still a bit shivery, but it isn’t long until you aren’t anymore. Thank fuck. He'll really lose it if you didn’t stop. He can’t have his princess turning into an ice cube when he’s there.

With you being comfortable, he finally calms down.

It's been so long since he last saw a movie. Honestly, he has no time to. You two prefer watching whatever’s in Netflix—or Prime or whatever subscription he signed up for so you can watch your shows—anyway. At first, he was so skeptical. He only uses the TV for sports—football, hockey, and the like—or a few shows Jack told him to watch, so he didn’t think it would be worth it to subscribe.

However, when he saw your attentive eyes glued on the screen and the widest smile you have to retell him what you’ve watched, it’s the easiest decision of his life. If his girl, his princess, his Love wants her shows, then so be it. Your happiness is his.

He loves staying in with you. Always, you’re bundled up together under a fleece blanket which smells of fresh laundry detergent and you—which Quinn won’t say out loud. You might stop spraying your colognes or using your lotions and body oils. He doesn’t want that. He needs every linen, every sheet, every blanket to have hints of you. It makes home feel even more home.

Quinn doesn’t think that you notice him burying his face on everything when you’re not home or when you’re in another room. He does though. Every time, he would find himself falling asleep instantly. You’re like a quick dose of melatonin. Completely lulling him to sleep and dream of nothing but good and sweet dreams of your smile, your touch, your laugh, and you. Just you.

Even right now, he almost fell asleep a couple of times, but he tries to stay awake and focus on the movie because what if you get cold again? What if you need company to go to the restroom? What if you need more popcorn? What if you ran out of your caramel toffees? What if you suddenly want to do stuff in the restroom with him? Yeah, he should turn off his mind. So many what ifs. He should relax.

With one subtle pants adjustment, he leans his head over yours and just watches. At one point, your hands are interlaced with one another. At one point, he really succumbs to sleep.

You wake him up during the credits. It’s your giggle that does it and maybe, your soft kiss to his jaw. Oh, it definitely is. With a haze, he is kissing you. Deeply like you aren’t out in public. Passionately like he wants you in bed. He does.

“Ah, ah. Not here, handsome,” you whisper into the kiss.

Quinn can only groan. Fine. He almost rolls his eyes, but he remembers he’s not a child anymore. Ugh.

You two exit the cinema with his hand to your waist, gluing you to his side, his head leaning towards you, because your ramblings start. Through you, he understands the movie better. It doesn’t matter if he missed half of it. You’re here to save him.

Your eyes are twinkling as you talk. You are so alluring. He’s convinced that you’re otherworldly sometimes. It’s how you smile with the crinkle beside your eyes. It’s how your lyrical your voice sounds in his ears. It’s how your hand perfectly fits in his.

He should take you to the movies more frequently. Or better yet, he needs you to read his books for him. He needs you to narrate the series he hasn’t finished watching. He sounds so greedy, but he truly enjoys everything though your lens.

Top that off with you in his hoodie.

What a time to be alive.

Quinn mentally starts planning more movie dates with you. He just knows that you’ll be happy…but he needs to know which movies you want to see first.

It would be a problem to subtly ask for it. You’re too intelligent not to get the hint of another movie date.

Except, you already have your phone out and telling him all about the next movies for the next few months.

You’re so incredibly cute for that.