#if someone has those terms blocked
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
PLEASEEEEE TELL ME THE SIDEBLOG i wont send any more than this but PLEASWE u dint know how desperate i am i love your art so much ive been lookinf for ur sideblog for ahwile PLEA......
SORRY ANON I SAW UR ASKS BUT I FELL ASLEEP </////333 anyways go follow hhhloml for the full version of this when it's done 💥💥💥💥
#asks for ain#literally god's sleepiest soldier i woke up so early today but fell asleep and woke up again n fell asleep again n Finally woke up#idk if its my meds that r doing this to me but it sure is a thing that is happening#scarian#hermitshipping#trafficshipping#<- for da uhhhhh what do u call those again#if someone has those terms blocked#ya watever LOL clicking post now zzzzz
109 notes
·
View notes
Text
More notes for Roach conlanging. Roach has grammatical gender, in which only Male, Female, and Object are grammatical genders, whereas Worker uses feminine grammar, Queen and King use a slight variant on feminine grammar, and Drone, and Queen-Alate use masculine grammar. This is because King is derived from Queen, due to their similar positions in a colony, and Queen-Alate is derived from Drone, as both are forms of alate.
Queen is an alteration of feminine grammar that functionally just adds a handful of extra syllables to it, and King is an offsprout of Queen that uses the same grammar with different pronouns. Queen-Alate, despite the name, is derived from Drone, as they are both for referring to different types of alate ant.
Most Roach dialects are intelligible to speakers of Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach, but Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach is not entirely intelligable to speakers of Roach dialects due to a mix of the excessively specialized vocabulary caused by the specific needs of its speakers, the fact that its speakers do not necessarily have Roach mouthparts and thus may not pronounce syllables in a similar way, and due to the fact that Inanimate Object is a full grammatical gender that does not exist in any other dialect of roach and replaces a decent chunk of terminology for things that previously had Other Words For Them.
#we speak#conlang#bug fables#please excuse us if we're mangling the terminology here btw. we cannot for the life of us remember the proper terms for half of this#and every time we try to google things it winds up turning up nothing#probably because we're googling shit like “the term for the thing where self reference is different if youre a guy or a girl”#and like. “part of speech that you use to refer to other people that isnt pronouns or a name that has title associations”#if we reread some textbooks we will probably remember but unfortunately these are not our textbook reference posts#they are our “what if we told you about the cool ways that we did grammar in here” post#god we love grammatical grammar (<guy who doesn't have a strong enough sense of gender to remember der and die properly)#(because we are the specific type of speaker where we're half operating based on what Feels Right with the word and we are)#(so fucking bad at remembering how gendering words is meant to go)#(the secret reason we hate phonetics is because we have to contend with both figuring out how mouthparts would work and like)#(Working Out A Reasonable Collection Of Sounds To Have In Our Language. which means we have to actually like. name things)#(cruel and unusual that we have to make actual words rather than loosely tossing building blocks on the floor. honestly.)#anyways snakemouth den roach is one of those dialects where it's on the verge of becoming a language on its own#where it's very debatable on if it's Actually A New Language or just a very specific dialect of an old one because. well. boxes#picture it as like. trying to speak to someone who you Think is speaking french but they have an extremely thick regional accent#and they keep using like ten-syllable words that you probably don't know but that seem to refer to things that could be referred to#way more concisely?#and also rather than just le and la they have added an entire new lu to the mix and you are unclear if its the accent or a new word entirel#(note: we are not a specialist on french as we primarily know it in the “we've been around it long enough to vaguely know what's being said#way and are not currently caught up enough on whatever they have going on to know about any major grammar stuff going on over there)#(but we are terrible enough with remembering the grammar of the german that we do speak that we do not trust ourself to not be Worse there)
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
getting real tired of people who are shitting on “found family” more generally as a narrative concept and specifically named familial dynamics in fan interpretation of characters in particular because it all seems to be getting painted with a really wide and really homogenous brush. “we need to take found family away from people because they think it all has to be In Nuclear Family Terms and do you know friendship exists and you don’t have to call these characters siblings to legitimize their relationship while making it clear you Don’t Ship Them Ew Gross and THEN you sneer at people who Do ship them” cool cool that is a lot of really intense characterization and assigning of motive to other people en bloc!
like sure there’s some meaningful critique to be found in a broad trend to label every single relationship directly and specifically with terms that have very specific contexts and roles but im waiting to be told when anyone IS by the standards of people making and reblogging these very sweepingly generalized posts allowed to call a relationship parental or whatever. is that Ever allowed. who is handing out the permits. sometimes a specific term for a relationship isn’t actually about wanting an excuse to sneer about your ship (and frankly there’s a lot of projection going on there imo from people who are actively sneering about other people’s interpretation of a relationship!) and it’s because there are very specific contexts and details about a dynamic that makes exploring it from the lens of siblings or whatever very rich and compelling and interesting because words mean things and assuming everyone is just being reductive and demanding conformity to a nuclear family is, ironically, really reductive.
so like. cool it. stop being really fucking mean about people having an interpretation of a dynamic you personally don’t like or makes you feel a little weird or uncomfy because you ship them.
#gav gab#im so tired of seeing people do this lmao#is someone actually being reductive and trying to get your ship labeled ‘basically incest’#or did they just express on their own blog that they don’t ship something bc they see those characters as siblings#so it feels weird to them#you know#the exact personal preference and interpretation you’re expressing in the opposite#it’s all ‘UGH not every relationship NEEDS A SPECIFIC LABEL’ as soon as the label isn’t romantic lmao#like amazing of you to start caring about how friendship matters as is legitimate without anything else#as soon as it’s not about your fucking ship anymore :)#be real you do not care about friendship lmao you can just dismiss it more easily and comfortably#when people aren’t using terms that are more loaded to your ship#are the big meanie found family enjoyers actually harassing you for shipping fake incest#or are you just uncomfortable when it is not about you#and chronically unwilling to curate your experience the way you demand other people to#because fandom has always catered to shipping and why should it ever Not be expected to do that#bc I sure see a lot of shit talking of familial dynamic labels based on people who use those labels being weird to other people#and not a lot if any of those people actually being weird to shippers#and one or two isolated incidents is not indicative of a widespread problem#do what everyone who doesn’t like a popular ship does and unfollow and block lmfao grow up
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Xingqiu slumps onto his desk, defeated. The deadline for a special volume of A Legend of Sword is scarcely three nights away, and yet he still hasn’t progressed past the first fight sequence. Every word he pens feels inadequate, his characters are becoming more and more crooked, and the sentences are crawling away from him like silkworms off the page—one, two, three, four… Wait—but the next arc… His valiant unnamed hero will claim a narrow victory against the Tai-Shogun’s cyborg samurai, and then—and then…
When Xingqiu’s eyelids flutter open again, the lantern by his window has dimmed considerably. He cannot have dozed off for that long, can he?
At least his father and brother are asleep. It would be best if they never find out about his sleeping schedule.
The shadow of his hand is so sharp against the pages of his lantern-lit draft. Xingqiu traces the ridges of his knuckles, a flickering black silhouette on the page beneath it. From this angle, it almost looks like a dragon’s mouth, one of the Natlan kinds… Maybe he’ll be able to see one in person someday…
He should try to finish this chapter, since it’s almost done anyways… Oh, but didn’t Calx mention something about their alchemy experiments in their last letter? Perhaps they know a potion that could increase his inspiration… it wouldn’t be too late to ask about it, right?
His eyes shut slowly.
“—qiu. Xingqiu. Hey, bookworm. Aren’t you a sorry sight, hm?” Someone is poking his shoulder. He wishes they would stop. He knows that voice. It—
“…Wh— Hu Tao? Isn’t it late? How did you even get in?” Where is she? Xingqiu can only stare blearily in the direction of her voice, strangely disembodied in the pitch-black room.
“The same way I always do; don’t tell me you already forgot? Anyways, there was business at Wuwang Hill tonight. It takes a long time to walk back.” There's rustling, the tap-tap of shoes against the sandalwood floor, and then a crackling of fire as Xingqiu's lantern flickers to life again. It illuminates Xingqiu’s room, his manuscript, and the girl leaning against his desk, idly twirling her hat round her thumb. A smile dances across Hu Tao’s peach blossom eyes, and her merry lips quirk up at the corners, greeting him warmly. Xingqiu is impressed by her liveliness at such an hour; anyone normal would never be in such a good mood in this dead of night. Of course, Hu Tao has never settled for normalcy. And he would be delighted to see her any other time, but…
“Hu Tao, I appreciate your visit, but you should head back to Wangsheng. I need to focus, and you should rest too.” Xingqiu straightens in his chair, and immediately grimaces—his back is aching. Hu Tao’s eyes narrow, and Xingqiu resigns himself. He’s never been able to hide much from her: not his double standards, his avoidance, his fatigue.
“You’ve been in this slump for at least a week, and you’re still putting on a brave face? It’s unbecoming for a chivalric hero to refuse help in dire straits, Xingqiu.” Hu Tao’s voice is rarely so serious, and Xingqiu can feel her studying him, her gaze quietly burning. He looks away. When had she become so adept at instilling that indescribable feeling of shame-guilt in him?
“How long have you been working on this dialogue? You know, inspiration won’t strike you like a lightning bolt in this dead of night, or it would’ve already.”
“I—” Xingqiu looks back at the draft. The last sentence trails off illegibly, and there are ink splatters all over the page—it seems his brush control is no better with less sleep. He sighs.
“Aiya… look at you, already so despondent. Isn’t your deadline still three midnights away? Come on, you’re already turning into a dull and uninspired young master. If you go on like this, soon I won’t have anyone to trade verses with anymore.”
“Hey! I’m not becoming dull or uninspired! I just… I just need a bit more time.” Yeah, that’s it. He just needs to get used to the flow of his story again. After all, there’s never been another way out, has there?
“Hm. Whatever you say, young master. Listen, let me tell you about the hanged ghost mystery that cropped up a week ago; it’ll send chills down your spine for sure. I guarantee it would make for an incredible plot point!” There’s a warm lilt in Hu Tao’s voice—a rare teasing fondness that makes Xingqiu raise his head. She is looking at him expectantly, eyes alight with the promise of a good story, words waiting to spill from her lips like the sweet melody of just-ready rice wine.
Really, this girl. It’s scary how much she understands him.
“Oh? Then, if it pleases Master Hu to continue, my attention is all hers.”
———
notes: i have no idea how hu tao could get into his room tbh i just accept she's better at being a prankster than i am lmao. peach blossom eyes does not just refer to hu tao's pupils, it's an eye shape classification! i thought it fits her <3 (putting this note here since I already described it like that 2x) also just imagine that xingqiu usually has relatively fast reflexes but he's eepy and tired so he isn't as alert against intruders. also, smiles serenely. they could be each other's muses and inspirations (high honor). this is rlly just xingqiu going through The Horrors (writers block) but i hope it's decent i love him dearly. i dont actually know if hu tao was written that well tbh something about writing in limited perspective kinda fucks me up idk. the more i look at this the more things i find wrong with it but i need to be free from it now or it's never getting done
also this is irrelevant to this snippet but i choose to believe in shit eyesight xingqiu who got the teyvat equivalent of contacts and/or lasik eye surgery. he would've needed glasses but he doesn't want to look like an Old Man!!!! (baizhu: ._. )
#hoyo when will i see him/them again..... in my xqht maining era (< in terms of blorbo meter as well as gameplay)#WHEN WILL I SEE FANART OF THEM AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP im so ill#you should absolutely read this as xq slumped on his desk with white rectangle eyes and a little ghost spirit xq hanging out of his mouth#and the bg has those manga lines of doom and despair behind him#he's so me when im trying to finish my hw the night its due btw. and me using up my one remaining braincell to get out of writers block!!!!#xingqiu#hu tao#teyvat thoughts#genshin impact#plum blossom bookmark#SOOOOOOOO dead about this actually when will i see my son and my daughter in someone elses stuff....... whennnnnnn i can't subsist#on crumbs forever sigh. is it time to crawl thru ao3? is it?#irrelevant but also i was holding myself back from saying 'that's so crazy' at least thrice in the notes. ily author boy go write ur#weeb scifi novel i will support the next volume wholeheartedly (ht will support the next volume with teasing and critique)#also i want to shake genshin because what do you MEAN part of the chinese title was xq's old pen name before they changed it#his self insert novel doing numbers /JJJJJJJJJ
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE COMPLEX ✧₊
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader
𝐖𝐂: 9.7k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after you catch your ex cheating on you in your shared apartment, you run into your mysterious neighbour. surprisingly, you find a friendship in him you weren't expecting. he's especially handy in helping you put together your new bed frame
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, cheating (not by reader or toji), flirting, dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v sex, mating press, dacryphilia, fingering, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, creampie, cum play, tease!toji, f!reader
Coming home after a long day of work is something that should bring you joy but as you cross the threshold of the apartment you share with your boyfriend; you know something is wrong. The abrupt cut off of what sounded like moans followed by frantic shuffling doesn’t give you much of a chance to think the best of him.
Already knowing what’s coming, you begin looking for your suitcase you have stored away. Checking the linen cupboard in the hall first and pulling it out, dragging it behind you when your – soon to be – ex-boyfriend leaves your shared room.
“You’re home early!” He looks nervous, like he can’t tell if he’s been caught or not yet. He’s about to say something else when his eyes flick to the suitcase you pulled out of the cupboard, “Going on a trip or something?” The chuckle he lets out is awkward and off-putting.
Ignoring his question, you walk past him wordlessly, pushing towards your bedroom, you just want to pack as much of your shit as you can manage and get out of here.
He rushes to get in front of you, stopping you from entering the room, “Why won’t you say anything?”
“What do you expect me to say?” You look at him with nothing but apathy, giving him no chance to pull a fast one on you, “You want me to scream? Cry maybe? Beg you to tell me all the dirty little details?”
“I expect you to care at least a little bit! Ask me why, how long, anything!” His voice raises at you, like he has any right to be mad.
“Those kinds of questions give you hope that I’ll stay,” your hand reaches for the door handle behind him, “And I have no intention of staying,” walking forward in spite of him blocking you, forcing him to either move or stop you.
Acquiescing, he lets you pass him. There is no shock when you’re confronted with the half-naked girl in your bed, the bed you bought – he can keep it. It’s also no shock to see she’s someone your boyfriend works with, what was it again? His work wife? No matter how many times you mentioned that her clinginess and his unwillingness to set boundaries made you uncomfortable he never did anything to make you feel better.
Maybe if you had been paying more attention to him, if you hadn’t checked out of the relationship months ago, you would’ve been able to stop him from cheating. Then again, if you have to stop someone from cheating they aren’t worth your time.
You’d consider saying something to her but there isn’t anything that wouldn’t be a waste of breath, not when she’s sat so smugly wrapped in your favourite sheets. She’s proud of herself and you just can’t seem to comprehend why, the prize she won is some loser who was willing to cheat on his long-term girlfriend.
The suitcase in your hand is thrown onto the bed haphazardly, she startles at the bounce in the mattress, like you were going to hurt her or something. That’s something you find amusing, smile small as you tug open the zipper calmly.
Your boyfriend follows you around the room as you pick up all the necessities you can fit, “Are you seriously just going to leave like this?”
Without looking at him you answer, “Yeah.”
“Why won’t you even try and fight for me?” He sounds desperate and angry.
Pausing, you look him straight in the eyes, “Because I don’t want you.”
“No wonder he cheated on you,” his work wife scoffs from the bed, finally pulling herself out of it, rushing off to the bathroom to change. The speed in which she leaves the room after her comment almost makes you chuckle, like she’s still scared you’ll hurt her.
“Don’t you love me?” He pleads, ignoring her comment.
Instead of answering, you turn it back on him, “Did you love me while you were fucking her?” You don’t wait for his reply, going back to your suitcase.
“Of course I did,” he cements, like he means it, and hell maybe he does but just because he means it doesn’t change what he did.
“Why are you so surprised?” You pull the zip closed and tug everything off the bed, looking at him in exasperation, “I told you that cheating is a deal breaker for me, it always has been, and it always will be, so stop acting so incensed or like I blindsided you with this reaction.”
He glares at you harshly, like he’s the wronged party here, “I thought you would care more.”
“You thought wrong,” it’s taking a lot to continue this façade of indifference, and while you certainly don’t feel as effected as some would, it still hurts, you’re still livid, but mostly you’re tired.
“I never realised how much of a cold-hearted bitch you were,” his tone is cold, words cutting through you sharply.
Sighing at him, you say, “I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff later this week, if any of it’s missing or damaged I’ll be calling the cops.” Grabbing your handbag, you walk to the front door, suitcase rolling behind you, “Just in case this wasn’t clear enough, I’m breaking up with you.”
“You haven’t even let me say anything,” he’s almost frantic, like he’s stunned by your verbalisation of the breakup. “Wait, don’t leave! We can talk about this can’t we?”
Pulling the door open, you don’t look back, “There’s nothing to talk about.”
Your steps in the hallway of the building are rushed, worried that he’s going to follow you. Finger pressing into the elevator call button quickly like that will make it come quicker. It opens just as the door to your apartment does and you feel your heart rate spike, thumb slamming into the ‘door close’ symbol.
Foot tapping impatiently on the floor as you wait for it to reach the lobby, hoping you get there before him. The fact he can switch so quickly between calling you a cold-hearted bitch and begging you to stay is chilling, just who were you living with for all these years.
When the elevator dings you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you jump slightly and then you haul ass, going for the front door before thinking better of it. If he really does intend on coming after you then it might be better to go out the back.
The back of the building is a grimy alley and while you’d really rather not go back there, you’d really rather not run into your ex more, so grimy alley it is. It’s a struggle to open the door with your handbag on your shoulder and suitcase in your other hand. You manage it though, it’s just unfortunate that when you start down the steps you stumble slightly as your suitcase wheel gets caught on one of the stairs, your handbag falls to the floor as you struggle to catch yourself on the railing.
You’re pissed off and grumbly as you pull on your suitcase forcefully, “Just my fucking luck, God, what an awful fucking night. These stupid fucking stairs, always hated it back here–”
A short chuckle sounds from behind and it scares the hell out of you. Spinning around quickly and placing a hand over your racing heart, you see it’s just your neighbour. You’ve seen him in the hall a few times, never saying more than a friendly hello and quick nod of acknowledgement.
He seemed polite enough, you would’ve gotten to know him better, but your ex had told you to stay away from him. Making claims like he was dangerous and bad news; you don’t know if you ever believed him, but he clearly felt some type of way about you being friendly with him, so you kept your distance. Mostly out of respect for your relationship and your partners boundaries but that’s a little bit ironic now, after tonight.
Your neighbour is all too amused when he apologies for obviously frightening you, “Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to scare ya.”
Turning your back on him and leaning down to your bag, you acknowledge his apology, “It’s fine,” you’re trying to be polite but you’re still in a foul mood.
“Need any help?” He offers when he sees you struggling to put everything back in your handbag. Head tilted as he checks out your ass in your tight work skirt before realising he’s staring and looking away before you can notice.
“No.” You answer without looking up, though it comes out harsher than you mean for it to, clearing your throat lightly, you add, “No, I can manage, thank you though.”
His tongue clicks, “What are you doing in this alley, shouldn’t you be going out the front?”
Without missing a beat, you turn the question back on him, “What are you doing in this alley?” Finally standing and raising to look pointedly back at him, handbag placed precariously on top of your suitcase.
Wordlessly, he takes a drag of the cigarette you hadn’t noticed he was smoking, blowing the smoke off to the side, away from you. His smile too big when he notices how your expression twists in slight embarrassment when realising his very obvious reason for being back here.
“You gonna tell me why you’re back here or are you going for some kind of mysterious woman vibe?” He’s glib, annoyingly so.
But attractive, in an irritating kind of way, the kind of way that pisses you off because how dare he be that hot and also be looking at you like that.
Your reply is straightforward, “It’s not a mystery, you’re just a stranger.”
“Cranky little thing aren’t ya?” Smirking to himself when he mentions your bad mood, like it’s so funny.
That pisses you off, you were trying so hard to be polite to him and while you were failing, you were trying, “Listen here mister ‘I’m so handsome I can get away with being an annoying asshole to strangers–’.”
“–Toji.”
You fumble slightly, taken aback by his interruption, “What?”
“That’s my name,” he looks pleased with himself for throwing you off. It’s like he’s trying to win an award for annoying you.
Frowning, you brush him off and continue on your mini tirade, “Right, well, I have had an especially foul evening and the last thing I need after walking in on my boyfriend cheating on me, is some dick telling me I’m awfully cranky. I think I should be crankier actually!”
He huffs out an amused breath at your frustrated rant, “Normally you give your name back after someone’s offered theirs.”
You squint at him, scrutinising his person. Hesitating in answering him but ultimately you give him your name, not seeing the harm in it.
It’s like he mulls it over, smiling to himself before saying unprompted, “A damn shame to see you go, doll.”
“I’m so sure,” you snark back.
Taking a step forward, you go to leave the alley, but he speaks again, “I got one question though…”
Stopping in your tracks, you turn to face him properly, hand propped on your hip, “And what’s that?”
“Why are you the one leaving?” His head tilts at you.
You don’t know why, but you decide to answer him, “It was his place first,” you shuffle from side to side, “Plus I’m not particularly fond of the fact that they’ve potentially fucked in every square inch of that place…”
He barks a short laugh at your statement, “You know… if you were my girlfriend,” he leans in towards you, “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“Yeah that means so much to me mysterious neighbour who I’ve never spoken more than a few words to in passing,” you deadpan back at him.
There’s an entertained look on his face as he eyes you up and down, grinning to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.
Your foot taps impatiently while you wait for him to say more, he looks like he wants to say more but the longer it takes him to talk the more you’re not fully convinced he has anything to say. Puffing, you turn to walk off, only to get stopped by his words, again.
“You got a place to stay?”
Your brow raises at him, “Yeah… I do.”
He shrugs, “That’s too bad.”
“Stop flirting with me! I literally just found out my ex of many years has been cheating on me,” frown prominent on your face as you accuse him adeptly of hitting on you.
His shoulders shake with a chuckle, “The first time I’ve gotten to say more than a few words to you in passing, just making the most of it.”
Something clicks for you, “Now I see why my ex didn’t like you very much.”
“And why’s that?” He’s smug when he asks.
“He’s insecure and you’re very clearly a flirt.”
Unbothered, he answers simply, “Not usually, you just so happen to be my type.”
You click your tongue, caught between shocked and completely unsurprised by him, “Awfully blunt aren’t you?”
Toji smiles at you as he takes another drag, blowing the smoke away quickly, “If you want someone there when you’re picking up the rest of your shit from that jackasses place, feel free to knock on my door,” he follows up his statement with a wink, dropping his smoke and stomping it out. He’s walking to the door, adding, “Stay safe out there, doll. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
How presumptuous of him, he’s such an ass, and just as you go to tell him as such, he’s closing the door and presumably going back up to his apartment. Your face scrunches as you think of all the things you could’ve said to him and at the things you shouldn’t have said to him. He didn’t need to know all about your relationship like that… tonight just keeps getting worse for you.
At least you wasted enough time that if your ex did follow you down like he seemed he was going to, he’s probably left by now.
✮.
Staying with your friends is uncomfortable, they’re dating and happy and you’re sour about it. Their displays of affection are prompting you to get into motion though, finding a reasonably cheap place to live fairly quick. Fuelled by nothing but bitterness and a sickening feeling like you’ve wasted too much time with your ex.
The next step is going back to that apartment and collecting more of your valuables, having left behind a bunch of things that would’ve been too much of a hassle to grab in the moment. Taking a day off work and borrowing your friends’ car is the move, aiming to go while the place is empty.
It’s still going to be a bit of work moving stuff from the apartment down to the car and your friends can’t take the day off to help. As much as you feel uncertain about it, you might ask Toji for help, he offered after all.
By the time you’re finally heading back to that apartment complex it’s been a few days, not having felt ready enough to come back any sooner. It’s funny how everything about the building is the same and yet you feel so different about it all now, it doesn’t feel like home anymore. There’s no warmth here, just another cold place that one day you’ll pass and not feel a tug in your heart over.
Nerves run through you as you stand in front of Toji’s door, uncertainty sitting heavy in your chest. Maybe he wasn’t genuinely offering, or what if he’s busy, or what if he’s not even home. You’re stupid, you didn’t even consider that he might not be home today, feeling flustered you ultimately don’t knock on his door.
Entering your now old apartment feels odd, most of your stuff is still here but you feel detached from the place. Amazing how a few days can change your outlook so drastically. Thankfully it doesn’t look like he touched any of your things, though you never really had all that much to begin with.
It was his apartment first and a lot of the furniture is his or was bought by the two of you together. Aside from the bed but that’s just because he didn’t want to pay for a new one. If you’re being honest, it never even felt like your place. You lived here and you called it home, but it doesn’t look lived in by you. After a while you stopped trying to buy trinkets and decorations for the place, he never seemed to like them. Always leaving you feeling like it was his place first and a shared home second.
You guess, at some point, it stopped being noticeable but as you stand here now and look through your belongings, you’re realising you really do not have all that much. Whatever you take will hardly make a dent in the large ocean of his belongings, poetic in a way. You’re a small part of him but he was a large part of you.
Grimacing at your own thoughts you move on, not wanting to start feeling those emotions in fear of crying. Instead sourcing the boxes you kept from your initial move in, you tape them back into shape. It’s been so long they look weak and old; time has not been kind to either of you it seems.
On your trips back and forth from the apartment to the car, you pointedly ignore Toji’s door, not wanting to linger on thoughts of him either. It embarrassing that you told a stranger that much about your life and then was willing to have him help you move out. Though he had big arms… he’d probably be really helpful.
This whole thing is taking longer than you thought it would, your arms growing tired from each trip. As you look at one of the few boxes you have left, you wonder if it’s even worth it. Most of what’s in these are clothes or the few decorative trinkets you own.
No, he doesn’t get to keep any part of you. Not the parts that were solely you anyways, he can keep those fucking sheets. Picking up the box, you trudge out the door for what feels like the billionth time. Not able to help the frustration in your steps as you stomp out into the hallway.
Just as you’re about to pass by Toji’s door, your box splits underneath and your things spill out. Thankfully it only really has some clothes in it, but you clearly overfilled it, too heavy for the poor old cardboard. Letting it drop to the floor; all you can do is look at the pile of clothes.
A deep sigh pulls from your lungs and your eyes brim with tears, you’ve yet to cry about this all but your box breaking feels like the last straw. Fighting your tears off desperately and failing as they drip down your cheeks.
Your voice is small when you mumble a tiny, “I hate everything.”
A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, apparently out of it enough to not hear someone leave their apartment and approach you. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you look and see Toji, but you are, feeling a little confused at the small amount of relief that runs through you at seeing him.
His tone is careful when he asks, “You okay, doll?” Like he’s actually worried about you.
And maybe it’s because he’s the first person to properly ask you that, or because his hand is warm and large against your shoulder or maybe it’s just because he’s here, you move to hug him. Realising now just how alone you feel, desiring comfort from him.
He doesn’t push you back, instead he wraps his arms around you and lets you soak a portion of his shirt in your tears. A kindness you don’t think you’d expect from someone who looks – or quite frankly – acts like him.
Mumbling in his shirt, “Sorry…” Before pulling back, “I’m okay… sorry.”
“You apologised twice,” he notes.
“Sorry…”
An amused look on his face at your third apology, his thumb reaching up to wipe at the tear on your cheek before speaking again, “Your box broke.”
“I know, it made me cry.”
“Don’t cry over spilt clothes.”
Somehow that poor joke has you cracking a small smile, “Very wise of you.”
“I’m full of that shit,” he moves for your box, letting all the clothes spill onto the floor, “Wisdom.”
“You sure you’re not just full of shit?”
“Ah there’s the girl I met the other night,” Flipping the box upside down, he scoops up your clothes and shoves them inside again.
Realising he’s picking up after you, you tell him, “I can do that.”
“I’m sure you can,” he picks up the box easily, resting it over one forearm as he moves for his apartment door.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re taking my stuff?”
“Finders keepers,” his tone even.
“Hey?!” You call after him, following him into his apartment.
It’s a mirror image of yours, furnishing a bit boring but befitting of what you assume is a single man. Toji drops the box of your clothes onto the floor by the front door, pushing it off to the side.
His words interrupt your snooping from afar, “How many more boxes you got?”
“Uh, only a couple,” you blink up at him, still lost on what’s he’s doing.
He hums at you, “Come on.”
“What?” You’re then following him back out of his apartment and over to yours, he walks in like he’s been invited. Flustered and confused as you hurry along behind him, “Toji, what are you doing?”
“You used my name,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “Almost made me blush, doll,” he teases back at you.
Purposefully not indulging his flirting, “Shut up, why are we over here?”
“Grabbing the rest of your shit, put it at my place before that dick gets home,” he stacks the last two boxes on top of each other, smaller than the box that had your clothes in it. Picking them up with ease, he walks past you, “Could ya get the door for me?”
Mindlessly, you open the door. Why is he doing this for you? “Toji–”
“Do a once over and check you got everything,” he nods back at you, “Don’t take too long though, he gets home from work soon.”
He walks off before you can say anything, so you decide to do what he said. Checking the apartment all over to make sure you got everything you wanted, you were right earlier, your stuff barely made a dent. When you’re satisfied you’ve got everything, you go to walk out the front door, pausing at a note taped to the wall by it.
Not noticing it with your view being obscured by large boxes every time you walked by it, that and you’ve been a bit distracted all day. It’s obviously written by your ex, you’re half tempted to just ignore it but you’re nosy and want to know what he’s said.
It reads a simple: ‘please don’t leave me, it was a mistake. I love you’. Underwhelming to say the least, it doesn’t even move you. If anything, you feel pissed the fuck off. How dare he spit a bunch of bullshit, you’re not stupid, the day you caught them was certainly not the first time they’d fucked here. It was written all over that woman’s face, she was smug, like she’d finally got what she’d wanted by you finding out.
For a quiet moment, you consider writing something back to him, or burning the note, or even just ripping it up. But you’re choosing to leave it there, maybe he’ll wonder if you saw it and maybe he’ll always be unsatisfied as to whether or not you’d have stayed if you had. Maybe he doesn’t deserve closure, maybe he deserves nothing more of you.
You’re getting bored thinking about him, this relationship had already been on its way out, you just didn’t have the guts to leave him for seemingly no reason. Pretending like you didn’t see his shitty note, you lock up the place and take the key off your key chain. Slipping it under the door before walking over to Toji’s.
Looking at his door, you consider if you should knock or walk in. It feels wrong to enter someone’s home unannounced though, even if they did kind of hijack some of your belongings and stash them in their house. Feeling too uncomfortable to simply walk in, you knock, waiting patiently for him to open it.
When he opens the door he leans against the frame of it with his forearm, “I left it open for ya.”
“It’s rude to enter without an invitation,” you say obviously.
He points out, “Didn’t stop ya earlier.”
“You stole my clothes!” You defend.
A chuckle leaves him, “Get in,” he holds the door wider for you.
Pausing, you check first, “You’re not gonna kill me or something are you?”
“A sweet lil’ thing like you?” His smile is big and flirtatious, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of yourself,” rolling your eyes as you walk past him and into his apartment.
The door swings closed behind you, Toji watching you shuck of your shoes, “Nope.”
Standing up and turning back to him, you mumble a small, “Thanks for helping me… and sorry… for crying on you.”
He pouts at you in thought, a hum leaving as an acknowledgment of what you’ve said. “You want some tea?”
You’re taken aback by his sudden offer, “Oh… uh… sure, that’d be nice.”
“Sit wherever,” he waves his hand around aimlessly at the few seating options he has.
Cautiously, you navigate around his apartment, unsure of yourself in here. You’ve only just met him and he’s being so kind, the fact he’s a stranger a more obvious fact when you’re in his home. You hesitate for a moment before taking a seat on his couch, gazing out the window while he clanks around in the kitchen.
Finding yourself wishing you’d put more effort into knowing him, he seems kind, though with how he flirts with you it’s probably better you didn’t. His footsteps are padded as they approach you, his slippers dragging against the floorboards. The tea he’s made for you is placed on the coffee table across from you, along with another he’d made for himself.
With no grace, he flops down beside you, his head leaning back against the couch. He doesn’t seem to have very good manners, his frame spread wide, sitting closer to you than most people probably would.
After a moment, he comments, “All the furniture was still in that place.”
You guess he’s referring to your apartment, “Yeah…”
“Gonna have an empty new apartment.”
“Yeah,” you reach for your tea, “It’ll all be me though.”
His head turns to look at you, “I’d like to see it.”
You smile into your mug, “You trying to say you wanna see my new place when I move in?”
“I think I should be the first person to see it.”
Taking a quick sip, you place the mug back down on the table, still a bit too hot, “And why should you get such a high honour?”
“Because you ruined my shirt by crying into it–”
“I did not ruin your–”
“And because you’ll need someone to help with all your new and big furniture,” he smiles at you like he knows he’s right, all smug and attractive.
Being serious for a moment, you enquire, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Isn’t it obvious,” you shake your head at him and his smile grows, “I’m hoping to get into your pants.”
Your face pulls up at him and you push him away by his shoulder, “You’re pathetic.”
“Yeah, but you’re hot and single,” he barely moves at your pushing.
You continue to frown at him, “You have to help with my furniture now, after being so lecherous.”
You’re only joking but he answers as if you weren’t, “Whatever you say, doll,” he smiles arrogantly, like he knows he’s won you over, even if it’s just a little bit.
✮.
The new place is nice, smaller than your last but it’s a good size for you. It’s only been a few days since you moved in though, so your ‘bed’ has been a mattress on the floor and your living room has a sad looking bean bag instead of a proper couch. It’s strikingly bare in here but it’s all yours and you get to decorate to your hearts content, you just wish you had the funds to buy to your hearts content.
Your first big purchase has been a bed frame, deeming it the most necessary. A couch will probably go second and then a place for eating and a desk and… there is so much more furniture you need. Things that can all wait, nothing will bring down your mood. You’re feeling good, your bed frame came today and you’re going to put it together and have the best sleep ever tonight.
…
Premature optimism will be your downfall, you felt pretty good about assembling this altogether yourself. But now after having tried to put this stupid bedframe together for an hour or maybe more all the confidence you had in yourself has been drained. Sitting on the floor of your bedroom, instructions and bits of your bed in front of you, mattress pushed up against the wall and out the way, you have been defeated.
Happy thoughts, all happy thoughts, you can have it together before it’s time for bed… surely… Maybe this is more of a two-person job, you should’ve asked for help. Checking the time you see it’s late afternoon, is it too late in the day to call Toji and ask for his help. You ponder on it for a second before deciding you’re calling him; you want to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Plus, if you don’t get it together tonight, you’ll be sleeping on the mattress out in the living room and that just feels wrong.
The line only rings a couple times before he’s picking up, “Was wondering how long it’d take ya to call me, doll.”
“Don’t be smug, it makes it harder for me to ask for your help,” you roll your eyes despite him not being able to see you.
It’s scary how accurate he is in asking, “Taking me up on my offer to help with your furniture?”
“Is the offer still good?”
“For you?” he hums, “Always.”
He may be the biggest flirt you’ve ever met, “Then yes… I’d like your help, please.”
His smile can be heard down the line, “Those are nice manners you got there.”
“Shut up, just get here,” you hang up on him and text your address, he’s going to tease you plenty when he gets here, you don’t need sneak previews.
Though you are thankful you have his number, having already exchanged short messages back and forth. Sometimes you’ve even talked on the phone with him, you get a bit lonely and it’s nice to be able to call him. He’s not overly talkative but he will listen to you carry on about nothing and you like that in a man. Embarrassingly though, you tend to bring up just about anything so you can keep talking to him for a bit longer.
By the time Toji is in your apartment, you’re feeling down, having tried for a bit after the call to try and assemble it at least a little bit before he got here and failing. The pair of you look at the mess on the floor of your bedroom, his hands on his hips as his brow quirks at the sight. You feel small next to him, humiliated by just how badly you’ve done.
His head turns to the side, “Doll… what the hell am I looking at?”
“My new bed,” you pout back at him.
“You sure?” He double checks.
You’re glaring at him, “Yes. I’m sure.”
His head shakes at you, “Should’ve just called me from the beginning.”
“Well maybe I thought I could do it myself.”
“And look how that turned out.”
You whine at him, “You said you were gonna help.”
“And I will,” he places a hand on top of your head, leaning down, “I just gotta mock you first.”
“Is it out of your system yet?”
A beat before, “Probably not.”
Ignoring him, you offer, “Do you want a drink?”
He pats your head a couple times, “Quite the little host, aren’t ya?”
Your answer is dry, “No drink for you, got it.”
A laugh leaves him at your quickness, clearly enjoying the back and forth the two of you have. “Alright I’ll have your bed together quick; I don’t even know how you managed to fuck it up this bad.”
“Unnecessarily cruel,” you note.
Throwing a smile at you, he reaches for the instructions and glances over them for a moment before letting them float down to the ground. He’s clearly confident in his ability to put the bed together.
And to be fair, he had good reason to be confident. He gets it all assembled easily, barely needing your help save for a few moments where you had to hold something. Mostly, you felt like you were just there to watch him, and you found yourself not minding at all, he looked good.
As the mattress slides into place on the new frame, he gives you a helping hand in making the bed. Putting all the appropriate linens back on, including fresh sheets. It’s beautiful, all ready for you to sleep in, to think you almost cried about this a couple hours ago. The frame itself is nothing special but you’re feeling so much joy over something so simple.
“Thank you so much, Toji,” if it were physically possible, you’d have hearts in your eyes right now.
“More than welcome, doll,” he winks at you, “Want help breaking it in?”
“Okay.”
“What?” He asks again, like he’s not sure he heard you right.
“Okay, you can help me break it in,” when he doesn’t move, you ask, “Toji?”
“Hold on, I wasn’t expecting to get this far.”
You laugh airily, his surprise cute. As much as you were serious, you don’t want to put pressure on him. Moving to walk past and offering, “Do you wanna eat instead? I can order something; I don’t think I have enough in my fridge to cook–”
Your sentence is cut off by his hand on your upper arm, suddenly being pulled into him. “Now hold on, I’m not passing on this opportunity.”
“You sure? You seemed to get a bit nervous for a second there,” you tease.
“Was taken by surprise is all,” he grins.
“Are you really sure, because–”
He’s cutting you off again, his lips on yours, breathing against you, “–You talk too damn much.”
“That’s just–”
You don’t get to finish; he’s kissing you again. It’s insistent and messy, like he’s been wanting to kiss you for too long. His tongue licking into your mouth, pulling a whine from you at how his hands grope at your hips. Looping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself up into him, craving more of him.
He’s large and warm, so sturdy as you hang off him. Such a good kisser, lips slotting against yours perfectly. The way he’s making out with you has shivers running down your spine, finding yourself obsessing over his lips. You don’t want to part from him, drunk on him and the messy way he’s kissing you.
A hand leaves your hip and grabs the side of your face, his thumb pulls on your chin, getting you to open your mouth more. He wants to kiss you deeper, he wants to kiss you so you never forget what it’s like to be kissed by him. Leading you back, he walks you both to the bed until your legs are knocking on it and then he pushes you down onto it.
“You know,” his smile is suggestive, “I think I am hungry.”
It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to understand what he means, it’s not until his hands are at the waistband of your pants are you catching on, “Oh!” You’re feeling flustered, “I– you don’t– if you want–”
“–Oh, I want,” He returns quickly. “Do you?”
“Yes…” Your voice comes out smaller than you intended.
He can’t help but snicker at how you’re suddenly so much more shy, “Where’d your sharp tongue go, doll?”
“Shuddup Toji,” you snark back.
The breath that leaves him is amused, his hands pulling your pants and panties off in one go. And then he’s a little breathless because you’re so wet and pretty, his hands are keeping you spread apart.
“Keep ya fuckin’ legs open, doll,” he grunts, “Don’t deprive me of the view.”
“How can you be so– hah–”
He drops to his knees and blows cool air onto your clit, interrupting your comment in favour of a small gasp. Enjoying the way you twitch slightly at the action, “What were you saying?”
“F–Fuck you,” you curse at him.
“You’ll get the chance, don’t worry.”
Not able to hold himself back any longer, he’s putting his mouth on your cunt. His tongue spreading your folds, licking from your hole to your clit and back down again, repeating the motions over and over. No real purpose behind his actions, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue, relishing in the sounds he manages to pull from you. Essentially making out with your pussy, reverential in his actions.
You try grinding down into him, to guide him where you want but he’s too happy to torture you, his arms hold you open and pin you still. Barely able to rut down into him with how his arms are around your legs.
“Toji,” you whine at him, wanting more.
He ignores your call to him, too involved in how he’s lapping at your cunt, making a mess. Though finally switching things up in a show of pity, his tongue slides inside your hole, fucking you with it. Your chest stutters with your breaths and your legs fight his arms, wanting to close around his head. It doesn’t work, he’s so strong and you feel so weak with how he’s turning you into a puddle.
This may be his new obsession, making out with your pussy and refusing to let you get what you want. Your pathetic whines and fruitless struggle against his grip amuses him just about as much as it turns him on. He rubs his nose purposefully into your clit, the moan you let out is shocked and cute. The way your cunt flutters around his tongue has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
You’re really going to let him fuck you and that thought alone makes him feel giddy. Parting from you in a messy display, string of his saliva connecting him to your wet pussy, “You wanna cum, doll?”
Blankly, you nod back at him.
He smiles evil, “Ask.”
“Toji…”
“You wanna cum or not?”
“Make me cum…” You look at him and it has your heart leaping, his face slick with you, eyes glazed, “…please.”
“‘Atta girl,” he says like he’s proud of you.
All to happily, he puts his mouth back on you. Tongue fucking you with more purpose, nose pressed into your clit. The sounds of him eating you sloppy and obscene, not that you can find it in yourself to give a single fuck. Your high approaching so much quicker now that he actually intends on letting you cum, back arching off the bed as you get closer and closer.
So badly you want to rock down onto him, you want to grind on his pretty face, but he still holds you tight. He’s so mean to you, shouldn’t he want to make a good impression. Then again, he’s making you feel so good right now, orgasm so fucking close and then he does something devious. His finger slips inside your hole, alongside his tongue, never stopping and barely giving you a chance to acknowledge it.
It feels good and you feel the slightest bit fuller and you’re cumming, so unexpected to you that you’re blindsided as you twitch and cum all over his finger and tongue. Toji groans into you, drinking down your creamy slick. Your hearing is dull and you’re involuntarily twitching in his grip, soft whines dying down as you calm.
He keeps licking at you, you’re not able to tell if he’s cleaning up or adding to the mess between your legs but with the way he’s drooling on your pussy you’d have to guess the latter. Your thighs still shake in his grip, he’s going to force you into overstimulation, that or he’s going to have you cumming again.
Reaching down, you pull at his hair, “Too sensitive.”
“Couldn’t help myself, sorry doll,” he smiles lazily at you.
Your hand drops from his hair, he’s so beautiful, all pussy drunk and horny. “Is okay.”
While he waits for your breathing to start evening out, he licks and bites at your thighs, leaving behind so many marks that you will no doubt be embarrassed about tomorrow. Right now though, you can’t be bothered to move away or try and stop him. Jerking every now and again when his teeth nip at an especially soft spot on your thigh.
When you’ve calmed down, he stands up, undressing in front of you, not minding in the slightest the way you stare at him. His dick bobs under the weight of it, all heavy and leaky, precum dripping from his tip down the length of himself. Your thighs rub together at the sight of his incredibly hard cock, caught between worried about taking him and desperate to be fucked open on him.
“Your shirt,” he points at your chest, “Off.”
Pushing yourself up, you go to take off your shirt but before you can Toji’s tugging it off himself. “Someone’s eager,” you tease.
“‘Course I am,” his hands are quick to grope at your tits, “I get to open your little pussy up on my cock, what’s not to be eager about.” He smirks, fingers pinching your nipples.
“Are you always such a relentless tease?”
“Did you expect anything less?”
“Stop– hah– stop playing with my tits,” your scold has less of an effect when you’re pushing into him and fighting off moans.
He hums at you but pulls his hands back, “Shuffle back.”
Doing as he says, you move back on the bed, sitting more centred on it. He crawls onto the bed, pushing you back onto the mattress with a hand on your shoulder. Quick to open your legs again, hooking under your knees with both hands to push back on your legs. His eyes greedy as he watches your cunt closely, grinning when you clench around nothing.
“Toji, stop being a dick.”
“You want this dick, doll,” he returns, glancing at you, “Should ask real nice for it.”
You return a sharp, “Maybe you should ask real nice to fuck my pussy.”
“You got words now, but I doubt that’ll stay the same when I’m balls deep in you,” he grips his cock and rubs his tip between your folds.
“You gotta ask, Toji,” you remind.
Without an ounce of shame, he asks, “Please, let me fuck your pretty pussy, doll. Wanna feel the way she grips me tight when I fuck her open, want her creaming on me, wanna make a real fuckin’ mess.”
“I hate you,” you huff, annoyed that his words turned you on so much.
“She doesn’t feel the same as you,” he notes, humming at how your slick drips down and coats the tip of his dick.
Whining at him, “Toji, stop being such a– hah– insufferable tease.”
“You haven’t asked yet, doll,” the tip of his cock almost pushes inside you before he moves back.
An unsatisfied breath leaving you, almost having got what you wanted, “I thought you wanted to fuck me?”
“I do, bad,” he agrees easily, “What I want more than that though…” leaning down to talk next to your ear, “Is to hear you fuckin’ beg for it…”
Sadly, your resolve is weak, and you break easily, “Please, Toji. Please fuck me, anything, just stop teasing, please.” When he doesn’t move at your pleads, you add another small, “Please.”
Breathless huff leaving him at how quickly you gave in, he wonders how you’d hold up if he weren’t being so impatient himself. Working you up over and over only to deny you pleasure at the last second, making you cry and beg for his dick. The thoughts have his cock twitching, loving the idea of your wet eyes. He’ll just have to make you cry another way.
“What kind of a man would I be if I said no after you begged so nicely?” He asks rhetorically.
Despite his tone, you answer, “A mean one.”
Barking a laugh at your reply, “Never claimed to be nice, doll.” He delights in the way your eyes grow large, worried he’s going to deprive you more and maybe if he weren’t so fucking horny he would but he can’t bring himself to. “Don’t look so worried,” he coos.
Pulling back, he waits for you to open your mouth to talk before pushing the tip of his cock into you. Your face twisting in surprise, mouth dropping open but no words coming. His breathing stutters at the tight grip of your cunt, not quite expecting you to feel so fucking good around only this much of him.
He looks down to your pussy, watching how he’s slowly sinking into you, “Don’t know h– hah– how gentle I’m gonna be, doll.”
You mumble back at him, already out of it, “Ruin me.”
A shudder runs through him at that, just about cumming in you from your small request alone, “You’re a fuckin’ dream.” He keeps sliding inside you, rocking slightly, not able to help himself when you feel this good, “If ya need me to stop, fuckin’ slap me or something.”
“Won’t want you to– hnn– stop,” you gasp back.
“If you do though,” he insists.
Nodding firmly at him, like you want him to just shut up now, “I’ll– hah– slap y–you, got it.”
“Impatient little thing, aren’t ya?”
Though he’s not much better than you, especially when he’s finally balls deep, mouth salivating as his eyes almost roll to the back of his head. Only fighting the urge so he can see your face and watch how your eyes glaze over. A sight he doesn’t regret waiting for, his dick throbbing at the cute expression you’re wearing, your cunt fucked open and full by him, your brain having trouble doing its job.
Already so cock drunk that you can’t get your bearings enough to talk, he can tell you want to though, can see the way you’re fighting yourself. He’s surprised when you grind into him, against his pelvis. Clearly unable to find the words to ask him nicely to start moving, he groans at your shamelessness, enjoying you like this. You’re greedy and he likes that.
“Cute,” he murmurs, watching your pussy bulge around his dick.
Taking a deep breath, you moan out his name. All pitched and ruined, “Toji.”
“I got ya, doll.”
He pulls back slowly, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. Your back arches as you moan, already trying to grind back into him. Toji bites his lip at the unabashed display, so willing to be openly needy when you’re this worked up. Not even a little bit shy when you whimper and try fucking up onto him.
Giving you what you want, he thrusts harshly back into you, picking up a diabolic pace. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your tight cunt filling the room, lewd mess spilling from your hole onto your fresh duvet every time he pulls back out. A fact you’d surely be bothered by if your eyes weren’t rolling, and your head wasn’t going fuzzy at how he’s fucking you. Managing to rub up against every single perfect spot inside you, your toes curling and legs shaking.
Cruelly, Toji grabs under your legs, pushing them up and back. Leaning into the movement with his weight, folding you in half. The angle new and breathtaking as he drills down relentlessly into you. If you weren’t cock drunk before you sure as fuck are now, your moans loud, the chanting of his name slurred and barely comprehensible.
“Fuck– how are you so–” Toji’s dick spasms inside you, you’re so unbelievably wet around him. Creamy pussy making an obscene mess on him, “Feel so– hnn– fuckin’ good, doll.”
You shake your head at him, “I– ah!– can’t fff–” you give up half way through, unable to say what you wanted.
He chuckles at your inability to form a coherent sentence, heart leaping at the realisation your eyes are brimming with tears. Sitting so pretty on your lash line, adding to the glassy look in your eyes. Moans slip from him when you shed a few tears, somehow, he’s folding you even more in half. The mating press mean and firm, not willing to give you a chance to change anything about how he’s fucking you.
It’s mind numbing how he’s thrusting into you, not realising how you’re drooling over it. Pussy throbbing at the way he slides into you, the feeling of being so full and split open the only thing on your mind. It can’t feel this good, why does it feel this good? The kind of sex that has you forgetting you’ve ever had sex before. Getting dicked down so good that you can’t even think of ever wanting anything but this.
Toji notices how drunk on him you are, “Hah– Good, doll?”
“Ah huh,” you nod deliriously at him, it’s all you’re really capable of.
Skin slapping against skin fills the room, his brutal thrusts echoing throughout your barely furnished apartment. His ego growing tenfold by the stupid look on your face, your pussy leaving a creamy white ring around the base of his cock driving him insane. Fucking you is messy, and he can’t help the fact that he’s obsessed with that. Loving the way you still try to grind up into him. Failing every time with the way he’s folded you, so needy for more that it’s adorable.
You’re hot and wet and so so snug that he feels like he’s dreaming, hooked on the way your pussy sucks him right back in as soon as he’s pulling out. Taking him so well despite the way you’re struggling to fit all of him, not that you mind, so blissed out and greedy that all you do is moan and pull at the sheets.
Cheeks tear stained at this point, orgasm so close if your stuttered breaths and shaking thighs are anything to go by. He keeps his thrusts the same, not changing anything about the way he’s fucking into you harshly, building you up so quickly that you’re dizzy.
Your back arches up into him, your tits presented to him so enticingly that he feels disappointed he can’t put his mouth on them right now.
“You’re s–so cute, doll,” he compliments, “Fuck– so greedy.”
His deep voice and crude praise send you over the edge, cunt clamping down so tight around him that he struggles to fuck you through your orgasm. Cumming around him so divinely that he couldn’t stop the moans tumbling from his lips even if he thought to. The sounds he makes stick inside your head, brain foggy as you cum but distinctly picking up on the moans he lets out. Pretty and arousing, you wish he had made more sounds for you.
Even as you come down, he keeps fucking you, fervent and desperate as he pummels into you over and over. New headboard slamming into the wall loudly as he fucks you, probably has been the whole time and you’re only just now registering it. Your eyes are bleary from the tears you’ve spilt, you want to rock down into him, wanting him to finish inside you so badly that it’s a feral kind of need clawing at your insides.
It’s insane how good he looks while he fucks into you, his lips parted slightly as he watches the way he stuffs his cock back into you over and over. Abs tense with his movements, eyes lazy and blown out, body sweaty from the exertion of holding you in a mating press while fucking you diabolically. His tongue runs along his lower lip, and you involuntarily clench around him, making him moan weakly, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Glancing up at you, his eyes look wild, “You’re so adorable when you’re crying for me.”
“Toji,” It’s pathetic and pouted back at him, mind too broken to say much else.
He groans at you, “Ohh fuck!–”
The way your lower lip wobbles so pitifully when whining his name has him blowing his load, not even expecting it himself as he cums deeps inside you. When he realises, he slams his hips to yours, wanting it so deep inside that you’ll feel him for days after. His pelvis grinds into you and you practically purr at it, the stimulation against your clit has your cunt fluttering around him.
He's so sensitive he nearly whimpers at how perfect you feel around him, unwilling to move immediately, truly too obsessed with how you feel around him. The only thing prompting him to pull back being the uncomfortable way he’s folded you in half, lifting his weight off you, he allows your legs to drop.
Eyes locked onto your pussy when he pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks from your hole and down onto your bed, adding to the mess already there from the sloppy way he’s fucked you. Compelled by greed and his horny brain, he uses his fingers to scoop up his seed and push it back into you. Fingers pushing into your cunt and relishing in the way you jump at the intrusion.
“Don’t want it going to waste now do we, doll?”
“You’re a– hah– freak,” you whine at him.
“You fuckin’ like it,” he slips his two fingers deep inside and curls them, “Bet if I hadn’t pinned you, you’d be a little freak yourself.”
Your hips grind down into his hand, apparently insatiable and willing to cum for him for the third time tonight. Needy all over again that it’s almost embarrassing how willing to be fucked by his fingers you are. If Toji didn’t seem so keen to give you what you wanted you’d probably feel ashamed of how you twitch down onto his digits soaked in a mix of both your cum.
You gasp at him, “It’s– ah!– too much.”
“See…” he grins, “…You say that, but you’re rutting down into me so needily that I’m not sure I believe you.”
He enjoys the way your overstimulated body jerks at his touch, cunt swallowing his fingers happily. The sight of your overfilled pussy trying to push his cum out only for his fingers to shove it back in making his chest vibrate with groans. His thumb rubs into your clit and you whine pathetically at him, your hand clamping over your mouth as your toes curl.
So soon after your last orgasm that you’re finishing with barely any work from him, your walls gripping him as you whimper into your palm. Thighs trembling from the force of it, you can’t even hear anything, gaze so bleary that you’re unable to see for a few moments. Toji doesn’t stop moving his hand until you go limp on the bed, your breaths heaved as you struggle to collect yourself.
When he groans, you open your eyes to watch the way he sucks on his fingers. Cleaning them of the lewd mess from the both of you, he’s smug when he sees the way he’s flustered you with his actions.
“You’re so gross,” you whinge at him.
He only laughs as he gets off the bed and ransacks your apartment for something to wipe the pair of you down with. Touch gentle as he wipes between your legs with the cloth he’s found. Despite how careful he is with you, you flinch, so sensitive that you feel like you might break.
Once he’s cleaned you enough, he flops down beside you and pulls you to him, “Think we broke it in enough?”
You consider, “I don’t know… we might have to do that all again.”
“Because the beds not broken in or because you wanna get dicked down again?”
“Just wanna see if it’s like that every time.”
“It’ll be better,” he speaks low, “I went easy on you.”
A shiver runs down your spine, taking him for his word, “Then… next time?”
“Next time,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m taking you out on a date first.” Not able to leave it as a nice moment, he adds, “And then I’m taking you back to my place to make you properly beg for it.”
“You’re gonna kill me.”
“Maybe but it’ll feel real good,” he chuckles.
You roll your eyes at him, “Fine but you gotta help with all the rest of my furniture.”
“Doll, with the state of your bed before I came over, I almost feel obligated to,” smooth in how he says, “I don’t wanna be visiting such a sad apartment all the time.”
He’s as presumptuous as ever but you don’t feel the need to point that out to him, since he’s right and all.
𝐀/𝐍: this was supposed to be up before christmas but then i had to do things to prep for it UGH... as per usual this fic was only meant to be like... 5k maybe a little less and i got carried away hehe. anyways,, happy holidays all !!! i hope you enjoy !!! <3
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
#visionwrites#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#toji x reader smut#toji smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader smut#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji smut#fushiguro toji x reader smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x you smut#toji x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Saturn in the Houses : Where Karma Has Your Back 🪐
materialist🔖
DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🪐
in case of saturn retrograde:
when saturn is retrograde, it still has your back, but the rewards or consequences may come in a more subtle, delayed, or internalized way. retrograde saturn focuses on reworking past karmic lessons, inner transformation, and self-discipline, allowing you to develop resilience, wisdom, and long-term stability. while it might seem like progress is slow, trust that saturn’s guidance is leading to deep, lasting growth.
saturn in the 1st house - saturn in the 1st house ensures that people who criticize your appearance, personality, or self-expression will eventually face karmic repercussions. especially if they’ve disrespected you and made you feel unworthy, unwanted or unattractive. it may take time, but saturn works to build your inner strength, ensuring that you own your identity and command respect. if you feel judged or misunderstood, saturn is quietly working in the background to reward your inner growth and resilience, ensuring that those who mock you face the consequences in the long run.
saturn in the 2nd house - saturn in the 2nd house has your back when it comes to financial stability and self-worth. if anyone belittles your financial status or possessions, the way you make your income, your values, made you doubt your self worth, made fun of your self esteem then saturn ensures that their karma comes full circle, and they may face their own struggles with gaining security, might feel insecure, question their self worth, made you feel bad about how and what you eat, this placement helps you build your resources over time and develop inner confidence about your values and worth, even when others don’t see your efforts. expect saturn to reward you with lasting material stability and personal self-esteem once the karmic balance is restored.
saturn in the 3rd house - with saturn in the 3rd house, saturn helps you master communication and mental clarity. if anyone criticizes the way you express yourself, your neighbourhood, the kind of transportation you use, your ideas and opinions, the way you talk, your siblings etc saturn ensures that they will face consequences in these aspects of their life too. they may face their own issues with communication or learning, forcing them to realize their errors. this placement encourages you to develop discipline in thought and speech, and saturn has your back by ensuring that any misunderstandings or criticisms will be met with karmic lessons for others, while you build internal strength and clarity.
saturn in the 4th house - in the 4th house, saturn protects you by ensuring that family members or figures from your past who hurt you emotionally will face karmic consequences. if you’ve been wronged by someone in your family or early life, if someone has made you question your femininity (for females), mocked where and how you live, criticized how you nurture yourself, or belittled how you express your emotions, saturn works to restore the balance. those individuals may be forced to confront their own issues in an introspective, emotional way. saturn helps you rebuild a strong emotional foundation, guiding you to heal past wounds and create a resilient, grounded home life. expect karmic justice for those who have hurt you, even if it takes time to manifest.
saturn in the 5th house - saturn in the 5th house has your back in romance, creativity, self-expression, hobbies, risk-taking, and views on children. if someone has hurt you romantically, mocked your ideas, undermined your creativity, criticized your hobbies, or belittled your thoughts on children, saturn ensures they face similar struggles in their own lives. they may find blocks in creativity, face issues with self-expression, or experience challenges in love and family. with saturn’s support, you’ll develop strong self-worth and maturity, trusting that karmic balance will be restored.
saturn in the 6th house - saturn in the 6th house has your back in areas of health, work, and service. if others undermine your work ethic, health routines, your diet, your workout routine/habits, your pets or try to create disruption in your daily life, saturn ensures that their actions will eventually backfire. saturn works to establish discipline in your routines and helps you grow from any obstacles. karma will manifest for those who create disruptions or try to hinder your progress, while saturn helps you create a strong, reliable foundation for your health and work life.
saturn in the 7th house - in the 7th house, saturn ensures karmic justice in your relationships and partnerships. if someone betrays your trust or messes with your relationships, saturn will work behind the scenes to ensure that karma catches up with them. saturn helps you learn how to set boundaries and deal with partners in a mature, responsible way. if you face relationship struggles, saturn’s energy helps you mature through them, ultimately bringing lasting, stable partnerships as a result.
saturn in the 8th house - saturn in the 8th house ensures that any deceit, betrayals, or manipulations done against you will eventually be paid back in kind. saturn helps you develop a strong inner resilience and personal transformation, guiding you to overcome fears of loss or intimacy. if others use your vulnerabilities against you, saturn will slowly bring them the consequences they deserve, helping you grow through emotional and financial maturity.
saturn in the 9th house - saturn in the 9th house has your back when it comes to your beliefs, philosophies, and higher learning, where you’ve studied and even what degree you’ve studied, your culture, your religion or if anyone mocks or tries to undermine your education or beliefs, saturn ensures they’ll face karmic consequences for their actions. saturn encourages you to develop your own system of belief and expand your intellectual horizons, guiding you to seek wisdom in a disciplined, structured way. saturn helps you overcome challenges in travel, higher education, and spirituality, rewarding your efforts with inner growth.
saturn in the 10th house - saturn in the 10th house has your back when it comes to career and public image. if anyone tries to undermine your authority or disrupt your professional reputation, tried to use you for fame or your connections, saturn will ensure that karma takes care of them. saturn helps you build a strong public presence through hard work, responsibility, and perseverance. those who try to hold you back professionally will face their own struggles, while saturn rewards your dedication and long-term commitment with career success.
saturn in the 11th house - saturn in the 11th house has your back in your social circles and friendships. if anyone betrays you within your friend groups or social networks, or if people are criticising you online for no apparent reason, saturn ensures that they face karmic consequences for their actions. saturn helps you form strong, mature friendships and build a network of people who share your values. those who try to use you for their own gain will face the repercussions of their behavior, while saturn rewards you with stable, long-lasting connections.
saturn in the 12th house - saturn in the 12th house works quietly in the background, ensuring that those who wrong you behind closed doors face their karmic consequences. if anyone has been secretively undermining your peace, mental health, or inner life, saturn works to expose their actions in time. saturn helps you heal past wounds, confront hidden fears, and develop inner strength. expect a deep, transformative period where saturn’s support will bring you lasting spiritual growth, even if the rewards are not immediately visible.
© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]
#astrology#astrology notes#astro notes#synastry#astrology blog#synastry observations#astro community#composite#astro blog#astrology observations#houses in astrology#astro observations#astroblr#vedic astrology#astro placements#saturn#saturn in the houses#karma#saturn astrology#astrology works#asteroid astrology#synastry astrology#aries#capricorn#pluto#mars synastry#venus synastry#house overlays#sun in houses#moon astrology
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#every time I see somebody call someone else an alt-right whatever or a nazi or something like that in the notes on a post or whatever#I am like hm. I wonder if this person is Actually That or just a conservative. because some people kinda throw those terms around now#and I go click on the blog and I’m like hm okay this definitely an alt-right/nazi/terf/whatever#OR I’m like huh. it seems like this person is just a Christian/conservative#and then I’ll see a post that has some kinda weird vibes so I’ll be like huh okay. and keep scrolling#and EVERY FUCKING TIME after like 5 minutes I happen upon - actual example from today! - something like:#’some people may think this is odd but so what if someone actually is a Nazi as long as they’re not actively hurting anyone’#and I’m like oh okay. okay got it. WHAT THE FUCK and block them#like only twice ever have I seen someone accuse someone of being a terf/fascist/Nazi sympathizer/alt-right person and they were wrong#it’s ALWAYS true if you go back far enough. and I don’t mean like 2 years ago I mean like last week#it is so exhausting. like I don’t have a problem with people who are Christians or super hella feminists or and are Normal About People#so I don’t want to label someone as something they aren’t in my head and block them for being different than me (Christian) or blogging-#-about feminism without openly stating they’re pro-trans (like some feminists)#like I block pretty liberally to prevent unhealthy interactions with people I’ll want to fight with. but I don’t mind seeing posts from-#-people who have a different background than me or just don’t blog about ALL their opinions or whatever#but it’s really fucking annoying to spend my time reading someone’s blog like ‘idk it seems like this person is just a Christian or wtv#and then have to be like oh wait! you ARE a fucking fascist. excellent! great work everyone!#this place is fucking wild#like omg
0 notes
Note
What’s your opinion on the contrast between “silly” and “serious” spaces? Do you think people can have very serious interpretations about a genuine piece of media and also be goofy about it? I’m asking this particularly because I’ve seen people in the Magnus podcast fandoms fight about people “misinterpreting” characters you, Alex, and the many other authors have written. Are you okay with the blorbofication or do you really wish the media you’ve written would be “taken seriously” 100% of the time?
And follow up question, what do you think about the whole “it’s up to the reader (or in some cases, listener) to make their own conclusions and interpretations and that does not make them wrong”, versus the “it was written this way because the author intended it this way, and we should respect that” argument?
This is a question I've given a lot of thought over the years, to the point where I don't know how much I can respond without it becoming a literal essay. But I'll try.
My main principle for this stuff boils roughly down to: "The only incorrect way to respond to art is to try and police the responses of others." Art is an intensely subjective, personal thing, and I think a lot of online spaces that engage with media are somewhat antithetical to what is, to me, a key part of it, which is sitting alone with your response to a story, a character, a scene or an image and allowing yourself to explore it's effect on you. To feel your feelings and think about them in relation to the text.
Now, this is not to say that jokes and goofiness about a piece of art aren't fucking great. I love to watch The Thing and drink in the vibes or arctic desolation and paranoia, or think about the picture it paints of masculinity as a sublimely lonely thing where the most terrible threat is that of an imposed, alien intimacy. And that actually makes me laugh even more the jokey shitpost "Do you think the guys in The Thing ever explored each other's bodies? Yeah but watch out". Silly and serious don't have to be in opposition, and I often find the best jokes about a piece of media come from those who have really engaged with it.
And in terms of interpreting characters? Interpreting and responding to fictional characters is one of the key functions of stories. They're not real people, there is no objective truth to who they are or what they do or why they do it. They are artificial constructs and the life they are given is given by you, the reader/listener/viewer, etc. Your interpetation of them can't be wrong, because your interpretation of them is all that there is, they have no existence outside of that.
And obviously your interpretation will be different to other people's, because your brain, your life, your associations - the building blocks from which the voices you hear on a podcast become realised people in your mind - are entirely your own. Thus you cannot say anyone else's is wrong. You can say "That's not how it came across to me" or "I have a very different reading of that character", but that's it. I suppose if someone is fundamentally missing something (like saying "x character would never use violence" when x character strangles a man to death in chapter 4) you could say "I think that's a significant misreading of the text", but that's only to be reserved for if you have the evidence to back it up and are feeling really savage.
I think this is one of the things that saddens me a bit about some aspects of fandom culture - it has a tendency to police or standardise responses or interpretations, turning them from personal experiences to be explored into public takes to be argued over. It also has the occasional moralistic strain, and if there's one thing I wish I could carve in stone on every fan space it's that Your Responses to a Piece of Art Carry No Intrinsic Moral Weight.
As for authorial intention, that's a simpler one: who gives a shit? Even the author doesn't know their own intentions half the time. There is intentionality there, of course, but often it's a chaotic and shifting mix of theme and story and character which rarely sticks in the mind in the exact form it had during writing. If you ask me what my intention was in a scene from five years ago, I'll give you an answer, but it will be my own current interpretation of a half-remembered thing, altered and warped by my own changing relationship to the work and five years of consideration and change within myself. Or I might not remember at all and just have a guess. And I'm a best case scenario because I'm still alive. Thinking about a writers possible or stated intentions is interesting and can often lead to some compelling discussion or examination, but to try and hold it up as any sort of "truth" is, to my mind, deeply misguided.
Authorial statements can provide interesting context to a work, or suggest possible readings, but they have no actual transformative effect on the text. If an author says of a book that they always imagined y character being black, despite it never being mentioned in the text, that's interesting - what happens if we read that character as black? How does it change our responses to the that character actions and position? How does it affect the wider themes and story? It doesn't, however, actually make y character black because in the text itself their race remains nonspecific. The author lost the ability to make that change the moment it was published. It's not solely theirs anymore.
So yeah, that was a fuckin essay. In conclusion, serious and silly are both good, but serious does not mean yelling at other people about "misinterpretations", it means sitting with your personal explorations of a piece of art. All interpretations are valid unless they've legitimately missed a major part of the text (and even then they're still valid interpretations of whatever incomplete or odd version of the text exists inside that person's brain). Authorial intent is interesting to think about but ultimately unknowable, untrustworthy and certainly not a source of truth. Phew.
Oh, and blorbofication is fine, though it does to my mind sometimes pair with a certain shallowness to one's exploration of the work in question.
#Big thoughts#Big rambles#These are my current thoughts at least#They will likely change#As all things do
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Beggin' On My Knees
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: fluff, smut, hint of angst, established relationship, biker! hoshi
warnings: pregnancy, impreg/breeding kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, praise kink, body worship, spitting, praise kink
Length: ~8k
Note: inspired by the Please, Please, Please MV. this was originally an idea for taehyung but alas my top freak took over again. something about biker/mechanic hoshi really is beautiful thank u @tomodachiii @haologram and @gyuswhore for keeping me sane
summary: After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
Even at your age, it’s somehow more embarrassing to buy pregnancy tests than condoms. You wouldn’t know since you’ve never bought condoms. That particular responsibility falls exclusively on your fiance after the few times in college when you snagged handfuls from the bucket inside the campus clinic.
You’ve bought a pregnancy test before. Not for yourself but for friends too embarrassed to walk into the pharmacy and publicly declare how active their sex lives were. Now you understand why they wanted someone else to do it. Why are there twenty different brands? Why do they require some high school employee to unlock the case so you can pick the one you want? Why are they so damn expensive? The anxiety you feel rivals the first time you bought weed sophomore year of college from some sleazy frat boy.
You’ve got the box resting on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone, and the test just out of sight while you pace back and forth in the small space. The door is shut for no other reason than to isolate away from Soonyoung in the event he gets off work early.
You should call Soonyoung. He’d want to know, fight the urge to say something stupid like “I’ll try harder next time” when the tests come back negative and instead offer to pee on one in solidarity if only to lighten the mood.
You never understood when people say a woman just knows until right now because with each passing second the reality that those tests are going to be positive sink in. Despite the fact you and Soonyoung almost always use a condom and the times without them end with him coming anywhere not inside you. You just know it.
Each second ticks down like a bomb waiting to detonate.
Positive. Positive. Positive.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Your stomach twists. Surprisingly, you don’t dread it as much as you would have a year ago. But a million things a baby entails rush over you. Cleaning out the spare room upstairs, doctors appointments, daycare, clothes, school. Do you even know how to actually take care of a kid? One that belongs to you, who you can’t give back to their person when they get fussy or hurt.
Soonyoung was born to be a dad. He never hid how badly he wanted a family of his own, a family with you. He’s good with kids too. You’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews, your friends’ kids. The middle schoolers in your neighborhood come to him with broken bikes and scooters to be fixed, knock on your front door to ask if he can help them get their ball down from some tree. Even if he doesn't know what he’s doing he’d be there by your side.
As the initial shock washes away, the knots in your chest slowly unfurl. You can do this. Even though you planned your life down to the last detail, Soonyoung has a way of sweeping you into his tide. Engagement, marriage, house, babies. In that order. You’ve already got the house before he asked you to marry him and your wedding is only a month away.
After the worst of the panic settles into restless jitters, you leave the solitude of the bathroom. Soonyoung still isn’t home from work yet but it isn’t unusual. He’s been pulling more hours, shouldering more responsibilities since Mr. Lee, the owner, hinted at a promotion. Glancing at the clock, you guess he’ll walk through the door in two hours which gives you plenty of time to put together something to surprise him.
After a long shower, you burn time by cleaning up non-existent messes; you can’t sit still. The ‘surprise’ ends up being lackluster. Your weekly grocery shopping trip is tomorrow so the fridge is slim pickings for dinner and you make the executive decision to go out once Soonyoung is home. Some fancy restaurant neither of you can afford with tiny dishes designed to leave you hungry and stopping at the diner at the edge of town for a burger.
While the noise from the TV hums in the background, you scroll through internet searches on what to do when expecting. Doctors appointments, blood tests, advice on budgeting. It’s information overload but you’re giddy even with the stress.. Then you see it. A screenshot from one of your friends. No words, just a photo.
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
The longer you stare the quicker the realization becomes a reality. Soonyoung, your Soonyoung, the Soonyoung you’ve been waiting to get home, the reason for three positive pregnancy tests still on the bathroom counter, stares back. Or his mugshot does. A proud stain on the town jail’s website for everyone to see.
Storming out of the house, you notice Jeonghan’s car is gone from his own driveway. Hopefully he’s given your fiance an earful at the station already. If not, you’ve got plenty to say.
Whatever giddy happiness possessed you earlier is long gone, rotten disgust taking its place. How stupid do you look waiting for him at home while he’s gone and gotten himself locked up?
That stupid bike.
It isn’t the first time. That was the initial appeal back when you were a doe eyed freshman, finally out from under your parents thumb with more freedom than you knew how to handle. Soonyoung was the stereotypical bad boy with a taste for fast cars, working in a garage to your good girl persona who set the curve in all her classes. A few drinks at a run down dive bar landed you on his bike in some back alley, a hand under your skirt while he whispered the nastiest things you’ve ever heard. Then you returned the favor back at his apartment, riding him with enough vigor the headboard slapping against the wall sent his neighbors into a fit.
Then came the routine of Soonyoung picking you up from your dorms late at night, staying out until sunrise doing who knows what. He showed you off at street races, called you his girl in front of friends, and would take you out to the lake after winning a race and make you feel like a winner too.
It was fun.
Until the calls he’d been out street racing again wore down your patience as your friends’ giddy curiosity turned to embarrassment and ‘I told you so’s. It wasn’t enough to break your heart, but it tore your ego to shreds. They called him a loser and you defended him time and time again because you loved him. Because he promised it wouldn’t happen again.
He promised the last time was the last time. The time before that was also the last time and the time before and so on.
The parking lot of the police station is nearly empty this time of day; a few police cars and a handful of other vehicles. Otherwise, it sits deserted.
Jeognhan is waiting for you at the front desk, pretending to type away at something on the computer but you know better. You’ve done this song and dance too many times.
“What the fuck did he do this time?”
He quirks an eyebrow, sliding a clipboard with the usual paperwork your way as he speaks. “What do you think?”
You nearly rip through the paper from pressing the pen so hard as you sign. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Ma’am, language,” a young officer warns.
You’ve never seen him before and the stern look on his face pisses you off even more. His eyes widen in what must be fear because he scrambles back to the filing cabinet at the back of the room without speaking. “I didn’t know you had a new bitch, Han.”
Jeonghan takes his clipboard back before you can whack him with it. “Nope, that's still your fiancé. Chan, go get Soonyoung from the box.”
“Tell him I’ve got a hammer in the car for his balls,” you call.
“Please refrain from making threats inside the police station.”
Soonyoung has the sense to look afraid when he rounds the corner. He’s still in his work clothes, oil stained shirt and dirty coveralls, hair matted to his forehead. You can only imagine what he sees. Last time you picked up he’d still been drunk from a bar fight and you made him sleep on the porch with Jeonghan’s engine as an alarm clock. You’d been too tired to make threats, half asleep the entire time. This time, you feel on the verge of crying, throwing up, and exploding into a fiery rage.
You don’t wait for him while Jeonghan hands over the bag of Soonyoung’s belongings. Halfway to the car, he races to catch up without a word and goes as far as rushing ahead to open the driver's door for you. There’s a fraction of a second you contemplate speeding off before he can get into the passenger seat, let him walk home in the dark as punishment for being a dumbass. But you don’t. You want to yell at him for being a dumbass until your throat bleeds.
The car smells like motor oil and sweat with him so close in the passenger seat. You gag at the stench, rolling all the windows down to avoid vomiting. The last thing you want right now is to need him.
Under usual circumstances the silence hanging heavy in the air would be comfortable, familiar and warm with the golden hue of the sunset and the sound of cicadas not far off. The world holds its breath, but you don’t.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you got arrested from someone sending me your mugshot?” you ask at the first red light. Soonyoung tries to answer but you cut him off. “No, you don’t. Because I’d never put you in that position.”
He grumbles out the window. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re better than me.”
“You think I’m pissed because I think I’m better than you? I’m pissed because you act like a fucking loser. I’m pissed because you’re a liar! You promised me you wouldn’t do this dumb shit anymore. YOU PROMISED ME. And I look like an idiot because I’m stupid enough to trust you.”
You wait for an excuse. Some honeyed platitude about how much he loves you and it being a mistake and how it’ll never happen again but Soonyoung offers nothing.
“What do you want me to say?” he asks.
You scoff. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Clearly!” you shriek, the vein in your neck throbbing. “Do you know how it feels to have my friends send me your mugshot? I’m at home tearing my hair out and you’re street racing some kid for kicks.”
“He wasn’t a kid—”
“I don’t give a fuck!” The edges of your vision scorch red, teeth gnashing. You’ve never been this angry with him. You’ve never been this angry, period. “Grow up!”
He’s lucky Jeonghan caught him and not one of the other officers hell bent on cleaning up the streets. He’s lucky you didn’t have to front bail money neither of you have, especially now. Instead of spending the weekend in jail, Soonyoung’s punishment is fixing whatever Jeonghan sends his way for the next month free of charge but it’s not enough, not even close.
The kill shot bubbles on the tip of your tongue but that last bit of self control keeps it under lock and key. This isn’t how you thought you’d tell him, nowhere close to the way the evening happened in your head before you saw that picture. You wanted to surprise him. Watch the way the news sunk in slowly then all at once. You remember the test you left on the kitchen counter for him to find when he got home before everything went to shit. The ember of rage flairs back to life.
“You wanna race so bad, go fetch!” You don’t think as you rip the keys to that cursed bike from his hands and chuck them out the window into the grassy median, gone in a flash. It’s only a temporary solution but it feels good. It’s the next best thing to taking a bat to his bike until there’s nothing salvageable.
Soonyoung sputters. “Are you crazy?”
Maybe. You’re absolutely toeing the line of unhinged. The car skids to a stop, tires burning against the asphalt. Thankfully the road is clear of any traffic.
“Get out,” you demand.
“What?”
“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” You repeat the words over and over until he does what you tell him to. You feel the suffocating tightness in your chest signaling tears are seconds away.
“Baby, let's talk about this,” Soonyoung begs. He tries to reach through the window, he knows your weak spots too well. You snatch your hand away before he can take advantage.
“You can have this back!” You launch the diamond band right at his chest before taking off.
You get back home on autopilot. There are red lights and stop signs and other traffic laws you can’t remember if you followed but you’re in the driveway and barreling up the porch with shaky breaths. Guilt doesn’t cross your mind for a second. Soonyoung didn’t feel guilty for racing like a dumbass until he got caught, so why should you feel guilty for letting him deal with the consequences?
The urge to do something mean, not just mean but hurtful with the intent of seeing Soonyoung sick to his stomach, rears its head. If that’s what you wanted then mission accomplished. He saved for a year to buy that ring and you threw it in his face like it was nothing but cheap plastic. The ire from earlier rushes out of you like a deflating balloon. Your fingers itch for a cigarette but unlike your now ex fiance, you have to cut out all your vices. There’s no relief in pacing back and forth. There won’t be any solace inside the house either. You’re so tired. All the highs and lows of the day have drained you of everything. You don’t want to be mad or sad or anything anymore. You just want to go to bed and sleep off the entire day.
You want to leave but you don’t. You want to yell some more but Soonyoung will be at least another hour. There’s nothing to anxiously clean while waiting so you water the crispy plants on the porch while you wait.
Jeonghan’s cruiser pulls into his driveway across the street thirty minutes later. Still no sign of Soonyoung, not a missed call or text. You think to worry but he gets out of Jeonghan’s passenger seat and trudges your way.
He looks angry and tired. But your swollen eyes and splotchy face melts the furrow in his brows.
“I’m—”
You silence him with a blast from the water hose. Soonyoung takes his punishment like a man, standing completely still while you douse him from head to toe.
“I deserve that. Please, just listen to me—” He’s silent with another stream aimed at his chest. You feel some validation seeing him embody the way you feel: pathetic.
“Will you put the hose down so we can talk about this?”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huff, dropping the hose for him to clean up.
“Then I’ll talk and you listen.”
“No.” You head towards the door with no intention of letting Soonyoung inside. “Go sleep at Jeonghan’s, I don’t wanna be around you right now.”
“He already told me no.”
Jeonghan would take mercy on Soonyoung in this state; soaked to the bone with your engagement ring in his pocket.
You turn to face him. “I want you to get rid of your bike.”
Soonyoung stays at the foot of the stairs leading up the porch. He knows how you feel and he has the sense to look ashamed.
“You want me to sell Tammy?” he asks.
“I want Tammy to fall off a cliff into the abyss but that’s obviously not going to happen,” you seethe, blinking away more frustrated tears.
“I have a lot of good memories with Tammy.”
“What? The first time you got arrested? Or the time you fell off and broke your arm? Oh, I know! When you ended up in a ditch?”
“The time I asked you to be my girlfriend. And the time I won enough money to help put a down payment on the house. When—“
“It’s me or her.”
Does it feel juvenile giving your fiance an ultimatum between you and a godforsaken bike? Absolutely. But you’ve got a kid to think about now and the thought of Soonyoung missing their life because he’s too busy chasing the rush makes you sick.
“It’s you.” Soonyoung says it with finality but you don’t believe him.
“Then prove it.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“Sell it. First thing tomorrow morning.”
He laughs bitterly. “I’m not selling my bike.”
“Then I’ll be sure to tell your kid their dad is a fucking loser.”
He blinks like the words don’t fully set in but your back is already to him by the time they do. Locked inside the house, you lean back against the door. You don’t want him to hear the crack of breath in your throat breaking into hot, wet tears.
“What do you mean my kid?” Soonyoung’s panicked voice comes through the door. “YN! Open the door!”
“Go away.”
His whispered curses slip through the door while he scrambles for the spare key hidden in the potted plant by the door. If you really wanted him locked out, you would’ve remembered to move it before he got home. Part of you does want him stuck as far away as possible. You don’t want to face him because you know he’ll kiss your tears away and that’s all you want right now. You want him to hold you, promise you everything will be okay.
The lock of the bedroom door clicks into place right as Soonyoung gets the front door open. You hear him downstairs, looking for where you’re hidden. You can plot his course in your head: straight through the living into the kitchen where one of the positive tests waits to greet him on the counter, then he comes racing up the stairs and outside the door.
He twists the doorknob with no success. “YN.”
“Go away,” you sniffle into the pillow. His pillow. You’re on his side of the bed, in one of his old shirts because even if you wish you hated him.
A dull thud against the door and a sigh signals his departure. You hear him shuffling back downstairs, but the sound of the front door never comes. The fatigue of the day takes over swiftly. Surrounded by the comforting smell of Soonyoung, you fall asleep until the smell of food wafts up through the vents. Not burnt but if Soonyoung is in the kitchen then it’s only a matter of time.
You creep down the stairs, careful to stay quiet so you can sneak back up without getting caught. Soonyoung’s body blocks whatever he’s organizing on the counter but you tell it’s a bribe from the sight of take out bags piled in the trash.
“What’s that?”
“Dinner. Do you want some?”
He’s got an entire pizza with garlic knots and cinnamon twists laid out like a feast. You watch him pretend to be nonchalant but he’s glued to your every move as you approach the counter and shove an entire garlic knot into your mouth, chewing with enough force to warn you haven’t forgiven him yet even though you're close to it. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“Then we won’t talk,” he sighs into the base of your skull, fingers edging beneath your shirt for the comforting warmth of skin on skin.
“Don’t,” you say, but lean back into the warmth of his body despite yourself.
“I’m sorry.”
Sure he is. You know he means it. Soonyoung is always sorry but it doesn’t stop him from being a dumbass. But he’s your dumbass no matter how many fights you have.
He lets you eat, content to hide his face in your shoulder and his fingers warm against the waistband of your sweatpants. You hate crying and you hate crying in front of him – because of him – even more. The heavy silence of the kitchen and the love of your life clinging onto you like his life depends on it brings a fresh prick of tears. Once you start, you can’t stop. The tears keep coming as Soonyong maneuvers your face into his chest. His new, clean shirt turns into your tissue. You fall into him without hesitation.
“Are you really…” he asks quietly, dropping kiss after kiss against your hair while you wring out like a sponge.
“Do you think I’d lie to make you feel bad?”
“No. I just—fuck. You’re pregnant.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“How do you feel?”
You blow your nose into his neck. “Like I wanna punch my kid’s dad in the nuts.”
“He probably deserves that.”
“He definitely does.”
“And he deserves to sleep outside.”
“Yep,” you nod.
“But you still love him?”
“Of course I do, you big idiot,” you sigh, leaning back to look at him. Mistake. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” His brow presses to yours, face rounded out, soft cheeks that make you want to scream. Brown eyes shine beneath his lashes. Soonyoung knows exactly what he’s doing.
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
You don’t but things would be a lot easier if you did.
Soonyoung takes the silence as an admission, and when you don’t object he falls to his knees, pulls your shirt out of the way and presses his face into your stomach. “We should name it Donatello.”
“No.”
“Leonardo.”
“No,” you giggle despite yourself.
“Raphael.”
“You are not naming our baby after a Ninja Turtle.”
“Mojo Jojo Jojo.”
“No.”
“Thanos.”
“Stop!”
“You’re laughing?” Soonyoung gasps, rushing to his feet to pin your squirmy body between him and the counter’s edge. “I’m trying to have a very serious conversation and you’re laughing?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“And you love me.”
You nod, hiding back into his chest where it’s safe. “Yeah, I love you.”
The silence marinates between you.
“I’ll sell the bike, promise.”
“You’re not the best at keeping promises.”
“This time is different.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking their dad doesn’t worship the ground their mom walks on. Because I know she’s way too good for me and I’m lucky to have her.”
“I’m not too good for you, I hate when you say that.”
“You called me a loser.”
“I said you acted like a loser and I won’t take that back.”
He looks away. “That’s fair.”
The icy wall of hurt freezes back up but you’re too tired to drag on the fight any longer. “When I found out my reaction wasn’t ’oh he’s being stupid.’ It was ‘how would I tell our kid their dad missed their birthday because he got himself locked up.’ That’s all I could think about. Explaining to our kid over and over why you’re never there.”
The words rest like a wet blanket over his flame of excitement. He doesn’t want to be that kind of dad; the one who misses their child’s life for something as stupid as street racing. Who leaves you to pick up a broken heart time and time again, two broken hearts.
You’re at arms length, Soonyoung examining you like a puzzle he can’t figure out but wants to try anyway. You hate when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”
“Shut up.” You hide the blush staining across your cheeks with another slice of pizza.
“You are.”
“Well,” you swallow. “I need you to be a good dad. And if you can’t then I’m not afraid to do it by myself.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“Can I talk to it?”
“If you want to.” You don’t tell him that the thing growing in your womb curiously of him is the size of a pea and doesn’t have a face, let alone ears. You want to hear what his first words as a dad are.
He rucks your shirt up higher until it’s bunched beneath your breast, stomach on full display for him to bury his face into.
“Hi. I’m your dad,” he starts timidly. You bite back a smile at his earnestness. “I don’t usually make your mom this angry. Usually, she’s pretty happy with me.” His lips brush your stomach with each word, tickling them into your skin. “I hope you take after her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty. God, she’s so pretty. I remember the first time I saw your mom and I knew I wanted to marry her.”
You snort. “You did not.”
“Yes, I did,” he corrects. “We were at this bar. You’re not allowed to go there. Ever. Maybe when you’re thirty or I’m dead. But I remember seeing her when she walked in and I thought ‘that is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and if she talks to me, I’ll throw up.’ I still feel like that sometimes. Even when she’s mad at me. And then when I got the courage to talk to her, I didn’t throw up because your old man is cool.”
Your heart swells too big for your chest. The night you met him wasn’t the stuff of fairytales. You saw him across the bar, all blonde hair and ruby cheeks as he screamed with his friends. He did throw up the first time you talked to him. After an hour of riding him until it hurt, you melted boneless in his lap and he snuck away to the bathroom to toss the used condom. You faked asleep as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl before crawling back to bed and begging for cuddles. Pure romance.
“So cool,” you tease.
Soonyoung laces your fingers together, nipping at your fingertips in protest. “Your mom is mean to me but it’s okay because I love her. You’ll love her too. I just hope you’ll love me.”
You fight the urge to cry, only a single tear streaking down your cheek before stopping. “They’ll love you.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”
“How?”
“Because I love you and I’m very smart. Remember?”
“I did say that, didn't I?”
You hum in agreement, pulling him up your body to nudge his nose along yours.
“I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you.” You let him shower you in gentle touches, his hands smoothing up your sides. Soonyoung traps you between his body and the counter, his lips sweeping over your chin, your jaw, your covered chest. That’s when you feel it. “What are you doing?”
“Apologizing.”
“Feels a lot like your penis to me.”
“That’s a part of the apology,” he whispers, the weight of his cocky heavy against your thigh, harder with each controlled grind. “Can’t believe I knocked you up and I never even came inside of you.”
“I can. You talk about kids so much I bet you manifested this.”
“You want it though, right?”
“Yeah.”
You’re lifted onto the countertop, legs spread around his hips. He’s got one hand wedge between your ass and panties to keep you close. “Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”
Not the conversation you thought would happen while you’re tugging his shirt off and working at the tie in his pajamas pants but you humor him.
“I think you’ll be a great dad.” You kiss him gently. His lips, his nose, his cheeks that round in your favorite smile. “If you stop getting arrested. How are you gonna ground Michaelangelo if you keep getting in trouble too?”
“She’s gonna be too smart for that. Just like her mom.”
“Oh, it’s a she now?”
“I’ve got a feeling.” He nips at your throat, a sweet flick of his tongue to soothe the sting. “Back to me coming inside you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Gonna take it all for me?”
Your chin tips back to provide more skin for Soonyoung to mark up. “Want it.”
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he heaves. You’re trapped between a hand against the crotch of your panties and one pawing at your ass like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
“Take your pants off.”
An amused breath warms your throat. “Someone’s bossy”
“Yeah, and I’m telling you to take your pants off.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Shirt gone, sweats pooled around his ankles, Soonyoung stands in nothing but a pair of tenting briefs and the thin chain you gifted him a week after he placed that band on your ring finger.
“Wow, who knew you'd be such a DILF.”
His cheeks tinged pink from the complement. “I’ve been a dad for five minutes and you’re already trying to hit on me.”
“We’re engaged, doofus.”
“Speaking of.” He snatches his pants off the floor, digging through the pockets until a familiar ring appears. “Don’t take this off again.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
He catches your chin between his fingers, pining you in his gaze. “I don’t care how angry you are with me. When I asked you to marry me, I meant forever.”
You can count on one hand the number of times he’s used that tone of voice with you. Soonyoung doesn't get angry often; at least, not with you. The last time he talked to you like this was when you wandered on the wrong side of town late at night, alone and drunk without a way home. You were pissed about a grade and wanted to do something reckless like every other kid at your university got to. Luckily, Soonyoung found you before trouble could. He used the same tone to chastise you for an hour about how stupid you’d been.
But he isn’t just mad at your antics. He’s scared too. You look at him — really look at him for the first time since this morning when you kissed him goodbye before work. Red eyes, lip bruised, not from kisses but the way he chews it when he’s anxious.
“I’m sorry.” You pull him back, arms wrapped so tightly around his torso he probably can’t breathe and you both like the certainty of it. The tension in his shoulders softens like candle wax but he doesn’t let go.
There’s still the matter of damp underwear and his boner. You want him, the gnawing aching way you always want him. Between your legs, stroking your sensitive spots to life over and over again until you beg for mercy he’s too eager to deny.
You nose against his cheek, adoring kiss after kiss against his skin until mouths meet. Soonyoung slips his tongue between the seam of your lips. You feel it the way down to your toes. On instinct, your hand trickles down his front, wedged tight between your bodies to paw at the fabric. A few dry jerks is all it takes for him to unravel.
“Wait,” Soonyoung gasps, hips rutting into the tight squeeze.
He keens with another tug, neck flushing a pretty shade of pink. The linoleum bites into your knees before you mouth over his underwear for a taste of what's to come. You suck the head through his underwear before leaning back to tease him with a kiss.
“Bedroom.”
“Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d refuse a kitchen blowjob,” you snicker.
Soonyoung doesn’t laugh. He pulls you back up into a bruising kiss, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bruised. His hand gropes down your ass, fingers tight to your entrance from behind. Whatever he wants like this you’ll agree to.
“Want you on my mouth.”
You’d kneel over his face right here on the kitchen floor if he wanted. But knowing your fiance, his sights are glued to whatever fantasies boil beneath that blond hair of his.
You race up the stairs, Soonyoung hands heavy on your sides. His thumbs press into the bare curve of your hips. Your clothes fall until just your underwear remains. You want to turn around and mount him on the steps but the second floor landing is close enough you don’t get a chance.
Soonyoung flicks all the bedroom lights on, eager to see every part of you as you crawl up the bed on all fours in nothing but your underwear. A few years ago you wouldn’t dream of sex with a lamp on let alone the overhead light but years of his utter devotion to your body and wanting to watch you get off like it’s his very own miracle gave you confidence. He looks ready to jump out of his own skin at the doorway. You glance over back and arch your spine a little more, ass higher in the air for his viewing. You might just finger yourself like this to see him suffer. You’ve done it before.
You stretch out, naked chest on display. “Are you coming?”
“Fuck yeah, I am.” Unconsciously, he palms his cock and approaches the side of the bed, pulling you into a kiss with a heavy lick of his tongue.
It doesn’t take much to drag him on top of you, dick hot to your thigh, perfect to rut against. There’s too much Soonyoung to think of anything else. His hands pinning you in place, his breath fanning across your chest as he suckles across the slope of your breast, thighs surging between yours in a dry hump you can’t help but beg for more of. His hips stutter when you do.
He follows the same playbook you did earlier; fingers trailing to the wet patch of your wants, mouth following closely. You’re in for a treat when he’s on his knees like this. He wants to tease you the way you did him but Soonyoung isn’t committed to denying you anything, he wants to rake you over hot coals by giving too much.
Your hands eagerly hook beneath your knees, legs spread wide before him like a feast..
“Taste so good,” he rasps with a soft suck at your clit. “You’re so hot.”
Even with the barrier of your underwear each lick lights you on fire. Soonyoung moans a lewd melody, lost in his own paradise. Your thighs twitch with each gentle prod at your entrance, folded away by his shoulders so he can touch as much as he wants.
The promise from earlier lights up your brain. You twist a tight grip in his hair, pulling hard enough to detach him from your body. Lips wet, eyes blown, Soonyoung tries to dive back down until another twist of your nails makes him wince.
“Call Jeonghan.”
His mouth may be gone but his fingers circle your clit in the way that makes you whine. “What?”
“Call. Him,” you command.
You snatch your phone from the end table, forcing it into Soonyoung’s grasp. He still doesn’t understand what you’ve asked.
“Sell him the bike right now.”
“Now?” He looks down at your pussy still on display, underwear soaked in spit and arousal.
You nod. Soonyoung knows better than to argue. He’s back in your good graces but only just, the promise of shipping that infernal bike off to someone else keeping him afloat.
Your body throbs for release, for his mouth to go back to work instead of whispering into the phone when Jeonghan answers.
“Two grand? Bullshit! There's at least…” he trails off.
You’re not going to stop just because he’s busy. You grab your breasts, taunt nipples visible between your fingers. Clad in a pair of sticky panties and nothing else, you’ve reduced him into a stuttering mess. Any other night he’d already be smothering himself in the wetness. You can see the urge in his gaze as he swallows loudly.
“Four,” Soonyoung counters. His face twists between wanting to argue with the neighbor, brows furrowed, lips in a heavy pout, and watch in awe as you suck on your own fingers before pinching at your chest again.
You’ve got him distracted with a hand between your legs, pushing your underwear out of the way to flash him exactly what he’s earning. Flushed and wet, the smell of sex hangs in the air.
“Thirty-five,” his voice cracks as you spread your legs wider, pulling his hand right where it belongs.
Soonyoung bats your hands away, fingers twisting through your heat. A gentle prod at your entrance like he hasn’t mastered your pussy enough to make you stupid and strung out with a few touches. There’s no way Jeonghan can’t hear every pleased sigh, the wet noise echoing from your pussy, the annoyance in Soonyoung’s voice as they barter back and forth.
Soonyoung leans over and spits where his fingers disappear, making you jolt with the force as he does it again. You nearly ask him to spit in your mouth just to see his eyes bulge but the opportunity disappears with the sound of Jeonghan’s cackle through the line.
“Fine, three. I’ll give you the keys tomorrow.” He ends the call, forces your hand out of the way, and eagerly makes up for the minutes lost.
Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically only to be welcomed with a grunt. The rip of fabric registers right before what was once your underwear is left stretched across the middle of your thigh.
“S-shit, don’t stop.”
His fingers spread for his tongue to lick between. You punish him for such a dirty move with a harsh pull of his hair that he loves more than anything. Soonyoung does what he does best: groveling for your forgiveness. You’ll give it to him like always. But you both want him to work for it; it’s better when he does.
He spreads your legs wider, gives a pleased grunt when you hold him in place and grind into his mouth.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant; vision blurry, body on fire.
Soonyoung moans into the sloppy mess of your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips, wedging another finger between the two already ruining you.
“Oh god—there.”
Your thighs crush his head but he forces them up and open, pinned in place. The tender glow of the end escalates into a scalding burn as it rips through every muscle. You clench so tight around his fingers he can’t move them more than a tight curl. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally rests.
“Did you just—”
Pins and needles ripple through your muscles and all you can do is nod. Once the initial shock fades, there’s a smug twitch of his lips. He catches your foot and pins it before you can kick him.
“Shut up.”
“Have I told you how much I think about you being pregnant?” he asks, watching your every move.
You shake your head. His fingers keep working in gentle strokes, the wet noises quieter than before but loud in your ears.
“It’s a lot,” he grunts. “Fuck, you’re gonna be so sexy.”
“I’m not already?” you half laugh, half gasp. The spark of arousal already demands more so you rock your hips down despite the sensitivity.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“But I’m not sexy?”
“Don’t pick an argument with me right now, please,” Soonyoung begs.
“Why?”
“Because I’m thinking about coming in you until you can’t take anymore.”
“Then I’ll be sexy?” you goad.
“You’ve always been sexy.” He punctuates the compliment with a kiss to your left hip bone. “Beautiful.” Another on your right. “Gorgeous.” One on the plush of your thigh. “I love you.”
He folds you in half, knees to chest like you possess the flexibility to stay there, ankles cuffed in his hand, lips hot on the back of your thigh.
“We should fuck on the bike one more time,” you tease.
“You want me to defile the mother of my child on a motorcycle?”
You moan at his words. You want him to come wherever he wants, as many times as he can. Until he can’t anymore. To feel nasty and used however he sees fit. You want him on top of you, behind you, bending you over every surface he can until you’re shaking.
“You’re about to defile me right here. W-what’s the difference?”
Soonyoung curls the fingers inside you tight, eyes glued to the way you heave before answering. He fucks into that spot that makes you his puppet and all you want is to ruin him the same way he ruins you with the slightest touch. “You said I should stop doing things that’ll get me arrested.”
You choke on another tease as he sucks on your clit, tongue coaxing pathetic sighs right out of your lungs. He could do this all night. He’d be happy to. Soonyoung grips you tighter as you squirm away. It’s too much. He knows it and that’s why he loves it so much, knowing he can make you cum hard enough to scream.
“Are the cameras still broken at the garage?”
“Yeah,” he grunts, already knowing exactly what you’re thinking.
“Then you can defile me at your place of business, over the bike. Just like old times.”
“No condoms.”
“How else are you gonna stuff me full of cum?”
Soonyoung groans, pushing your legs wider as his hips rut into the mattress. “Wanna come inside you.”
“Then get up here and do it.”
You’re soaked between the legs, sensitive and swollen. Soonyoung settles into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing his cock into the wet mess of spit and arousal. Your body acts of instinct, hips tilting until he slips between your walls.
“Oh my god.” He laps at the swell of your breast. “‘S okay?”
“Yeah, they don’t hurt yet.”
The sharp edge of his teeth leaves lines across your skin while he sucks at your chest until your spine breaks in half. His fingers keep firm pressure against your clit. Sloppy but enough to keep you pulled taunt. You’ll come a second time if he keeps it up.
“Oh my god,” you echo.
Soonyoung likes to fuck hard. Hard enough you feel like all your seams are splitting, just shy of shattering your limit. Now’s no different but there's a new edge of caution. Even with his hips flat, inside you until nothing is left to give, he tangles your fingers together and pins them over head in the pillows.
You push your body against his, needy and pliant. Blind want acting as a guide, your ankles lock around his waist. It feels so much better than all the other times he’s fucked you like this; knowing the risk of him coming inside no longer counts and he can do it as many times as you ask.
The slap of your skin against his fills the room, grunts and pathetic whines passing between mouths with narrowed vision. Nails biting into his shoulders, you flutter tight, trying to pull Soonyoung deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Stretched full beyond belief.
“More,” you beg. Frantic. Needy. All those feelings Soonyoung can incite with the barest of touches and a look.
He rises back on his hands, lighting up with each pathetic whimper of his name. “More what?”
If you had the brain power you’d knock the stupid smirk off his face. “Fuck me.”
“I am,” Soonyoung taunts.
“Breed me.”
“Already h-have.” Soonyoung looks like he wants to laugh but he sinks as much weight as he can into his hips, rhythm clumsy but it’s so good you don’t care. “Fuck, such a good girl. Aren’t you?”
You clench around him. He isn’t the most inspired with dirty talk but he knows your buttons, loves to press on your praise kink when you least expect it.
“Say it.”
“I-I’m,” you stutter from his fingers finding your raw clit. “I’m your good girl.”
“My pretty little wife,” Soonyoung gasps. “Perfect.”
Every bit of praise adds a drop in the bucket, chest tightening until it explodes without permission; shredding through your veins. Your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hard enough to bruise as you cry, “Soonyoung.”
He doesn’t stop for your orgasm, not for a second. You asked him to breed you and it’s his sole purpose until you’re both satisfied. “G-gonna come.”
“Want it, want you to come in me,” you sob.
Soonyoung grabs for your hair, a gentle tug with enough force your eyes open to find his.
“Want it?” he pants, tilting your hips to fuck deeper. You nod with limited room thanks to his grip. “Then take it.”
The sticky heat you’re accustomed to on your skin stains your insides for the first time. There’s no way you can go back. Not after knowing how right it feels to have him fill you. You shiver beneath his weight, nerves twitching from the idea of him doing it again. Immediately.
“Love you, love you, love you…” Soonyoung chants into your skin, lips slipping over your throat with each breathless gasp.
You roll down into the nasty feel of cum and cock, the minor relief not nearly enough. Not with the idea of sucking the combined taste off him rearing its head. But Soonyoung collapses with a point flex of his thighs to stop your motions.
“Holy fuck,” he shudders. “If you let me do that sooner, we’d have ten kids by now.”
You’re flustered at the idea. “Do you think my vagina is a baby rocket launcher?”
“It’s definitely something.”
“How romantic,” you snort. “Give it a few months and I’ll be so hormonal you won’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”
“Is that what you think?” he hums, face still hidden in your neck like he’s too exhausted to move except to lap at the dip in your throat. A subtle grind reminds you of his cock still wedge in your guts, stiff like he didn’t come hard enough to see stars.
It’s hard to think that after so many years together, this is the biggest love rush you’ve ever experienced. The urge to keep him wrapped in your arms for as long as possible brings tears to your eyes.
Soonyoung pops over your face after the first sniffle, terrified. “Are you crying?”
“No.” You swipe at the tears. “Shut up.”
“Aw, baby,” he coos, failing to hide his amusement.
“I’m carrying your child, sorry my hormones are all over the place.” You bat his hand away unsuccessfully, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm. “We’re ready for this?”
“I mean, I was planning to knock you up on our honeymoon anyway,” he shrugs, lips soft on your hairline. “Do you have any more of those tests?”
“Why?”
“I wanna see what’d happen if I pee on one.”
“Nothing.” You push him off, rolling onto hands and knees with your ass in the air, face buried in the pillows. “Now, fuck me again.”
Soonyoung pushes the head of his cock through the mess of cum leaking out before sinking back inside with a grunt. “Yes, ma’am.”
taglist: @/tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi
@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @wobblewobble822
@futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin
@isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy @lukeys-giggle
@aaa-sia @tinkerbell460 @gyuhao365 @ourkivee @bokk-minnie
@cookiearmy @moonlightwonu @kyeomofhearts
@melonacco @lllucere @wwjagabeee @syluslittlecrows @yourbimbohope
@whrryuu @wonrangwoo @xchaenx @champagnenoona
#thediamondlifenetwork#ksmutsociety#kvanity#kwon soonyoung#hoshi#kwon soonyoung smut#hoshi smut#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#svt x reader#soonyoung x reader#hoshi x reader#svt#svt smut#seventeen#seventeen hoshi#🫡 highvern
538 notes
·
View notes
Text
❥ keep on comin’ back
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f9ea5d9d432d0d3728a6385733663745/4f06d109915fbec8-22/s540x810/909b49eee67ae0e43d74da7bce1f4bac28460aa4.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5a2ab64f5a959c02a7daa2eb715ae7df/4f06d109915fbec8-9c/s540x810/bb3f07417fb82de67ee6aecbcfe29cd09f16e762.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b7de07edc4928391540d751abda10d00/4f06d109915fbec8-5b/s540x810/e47765a2bf112867a575fd9d0a0f8b7c7048faa6.jpg)
babydaddy!toji x fem!reader
the reason he keeps on comin back.
tags: dilf toji, explicit language, dirty talking, creaming, squirting, mentions of breeding, missionary, riding, creampie, nipple play, spanking, etc.
note: shoutout to oomf who said toji keeps coming back to me, you the inspo for this.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b7de07edc4928391540d751abda10d00/4f06d109915fbec8-5b/s540x810/e47765a2bf112867a575fd9d0a0f8b7c7048faa6.jpg)
“What are you doing here? It’s not my week—hi megs, mimi!” you diverted your attention from your baby daddy to your adopted son and your daughter, hugging their small bodies; before letting them inside of your house.
Turning back around to block him from getting in, you bring up your question again. “What are you doing here? Don’t think you’re getting any, last time was a mistake.”
“Last time we almost gave those two another sibling and I didn’t hear you complaining when you were screaming my name and scratching my back up, while i made you cum back to back.” You bit your lip as he helped you remember the last time he unexpectedly came over, which led to you having multiple mind blowing orgasms that night; and a pregnancy scare.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/330eb1728225532528b3c7fafbb864e8/4f06d109915fbec8-42/s540x810/8780a0265c0da8370b0a39d45e39ad4c33dfbaba.jpg)
“well that’s never gonna happen again. now are you gonna answer me?” you stared at his green eyes, arms folded over one another—unconsciously pushing your boobs up through your black beater.
“megumi’s supposed to be having a sleepover with his best friend, yuuji, at our place, but the plumbing’s backed up for like a good week. so, he asked could we do it at mommy’s house. plus, mimi said she missed her mommy.” you cooed and looked back at your daughter and step-son, watching them play with one another.
and before you could open your mouth up to ask a follow up question, toji beat you to the punch.
“tried to find somewhere else for me to go. but, there wasn’t any hotels available. and i think it would be great for the kids to have both parents under one roof. what do ya think?” he asked and you sighed, before moving aside to let him in.
“bags are in the truck,” he smiled and kissed your cheek, turning on his heel to grab their things from his car.
being in an on again and off again relationship with each other was took a toll on you both, but it was also tough for the kids. they couldn’t understand why mommy and daddy aren’t together, however it was moments like this they were happy to have. and deep down inside, you both felt the same.
Toji returned with their bags and made his way up their stairs to the kids room, and the guest bedroom, with mimi hot on his tail. While the two of them got situated upstairs, megumi followed you into the kitchen to help you with tonight’s meal. You giggled as you watched him put on his mini apron before stepping onto his stool to watch you clean some meat for dinner.
Megumi watched with an intent stare as you moved with ease, learning from you while you cooked. “mommy? do you love dad?”
his question caught you by surprise and you nearly sliced your finger off. “yes, but not as much as i love you,” he giggled when you ruffled his raven locks before focusing back on the meal. although megumi’s mom died when he was a baby, you still loved him like he was your own. and truth be told, you really did love toji; no matter how many times he annoyed you.
“so, then why aren’t you guys married? my friend yuuji said that his dad said if two people love each, they should marry each other. plus, i saw this shiny ring in dad’s room at the other house—“
you eyes were wide. a fucking ring? there’s no way—maybe he’s got someone else in mind…right?
“mm…i don’t know. hey, you wanna have that sleepover still? go get the house phone and I’ll call yuuji’s dad.” you nervously laughed and watched him leave, before sighing out.
there’s no way, right?
—
the next couple of hours flew by, your mind was practically a blur—still caught up on the fact that toji has a ring and that he could possibly propose to you.
even though you guys broke up on good terms, parts of you missed him. real bad. you missed having him in your arms at night. missed his scent being all over you. missed him being with you and the kids. missed having him so deep inside of you almost every night.
and the reason the two of you broke up was because of him. he pushed you away, pushed you away from his heart.
yuuji came over and was having a ball with your kids, before the three of them crashed for the night, finally allowing you to have some time for yourself. you lounged on your plush brown couch, glass of wine in your hand as you caught up with one of your favorite shows, when toji’s deep voice echoed through your ears.
“knew I would find you here. what are ya watching?”
“uhh supernatural….toji can i ask you a question?”
“ya just did,” he chuckled and ducked when you hit him in the head with a throw pillow. “you know what i meant.” he nodded and you sipped some more of your wine before turning to look at him, your heart beating out of your chest; while you felt a heartbeat elsewhere.
“the ring you have, is that for me?” there was pause and his eyes caught yours. and before he could open his mouth, you spoke once more.
“meg’s told me you had it. do you really wanna marry me? do you think—“ your nervous rambling was caught off by his lips. the scar on his upper lip rubbing smoothly against yours, making you moan out. and when he pulled away, you whimpered; yearning for more.
“gotta teach him to keep secrets. damn big mouth.” he teased megumi and you gave him a slight kick, giggling at him, before he pulled you onto his lap—your plush thighs melting against his waist.
“but, yeah. ‘m gonna marry you. make you mine and pump you full of my babies,” his last comment sent shivers up your spine and you could feel your panties moisten with arousal. the tension was overwhelming and you couldn’t take it anymore. you crawled off his lap and swiftly pulled his dark grey sweatpants down to his knees, making his fat cock spring to life; before you immediately wrapped your plump lips around his head.
toji sucked in some air and tangled his thick fingers in your hair, pulling it while you worked your way down his dick. his cock was coated with your salvia, dripping down from his angry red tip—to the top of his balls, before you scooped it up and rubbed it all over him.
he was in pure bliss. basking in the sheer pleasure you were giving him. his jaw clenching as you made a sloppy messy on him, trying to suppress the moans that wanted to slip; until you swirled against his frenulum & teased his tip, making him loudly groan out.
you released him with a ‘pop’ sound echoing, your small hands jerking him off while you maintained eye contact with him, “shhh don’t wanna wake them up. now do we?” the look on his face sent a jolt of electricity up your spine and to your aching cunt, causing a switch to flip inside of you.
he watched you quickly pull your panties down, your slick sticking to the fabric, webs of your arousal following; before you squatted down onto his lap once more. “need you inside. need you to cum deep inside of me.”
you whined when you pushed him in, walls immediately stretching out and wrapping around him. this is what he missed. this is why he kept coming back…..well, one of the reasons.
his hands met your hips and helped guide you up and down on his dick, tip pressing into your cervix every once and a while. it didn’t take long for the moans to flow out freely from your mouth as you continued to bounce, stuffing you. and soon, you became even more gushy, cunt squelching while cream started form around his base—sticking to your skin while you moved.
“fuck you’re so tight. missed this pussy,” his hands collide with your ass, the fat rippling from the impact. he gripped the globes of your ass, loving the soft fat, before resting his hands on one of your cheeks.
everything about this felt sooo good. the noises you created and the touches he was giving you, was sheer bliss and you could feel an orgasm approaching. toji could feel you clenching down on him repeatedly and he groaned at the sensation. with his free hand he pulled the sleeves to your beater down—pushing it down a little—before putting one of your plump mounds into his mouth.
the warm, wet feeling of his mouth made you throw your head back; still enduring the workout of bouncing on his fat cock.
he didn’t know how he was able to last this long inside of you, especially with how long it’s been since the last time and the unbelievable head you gave him. but, he was nearing his end too.
you could feel his hands move to your waist, before your back met the soft plushness of the couch and your legs were planted at his sides. now, his cock was nestled deep inside of your tummy, hitting your spot each time he thrusted.
toji reached underneath your thighs and pulled out your wet sticky underwear, putting it into your mouth to muffle the lewd noises that left your lips. your eyes was rolling back into your head as he fucked an orgasm out of you. well, that is until he pulled you by your hair; forcing you to watch him fuck everything out of you.
“look at the mess yer makin—shit! cum for me mamas”
oh the mess you made.
specks of white blurred your vision as you stomach caved in and a stream of clear fluid splashed out, drenching his black t-shirt and the cushions underneath. you had reached nirvana, but the pleasure didn’t stop there.
toji’s grip on your hair tightened while he pounded your cunt silly—splitting you open, pumping thick white ropes of his seed inside of you.
unable to formulate any words, he just smashed his lips onto yours; hands around your neck as the two of you shared the best orgasms of your lives.
this was it. this is exactly what you wanted. what he needed. why he kept coming back.
he sat back, catching his breath while you started to come back to reality, staring at you with pure love. “guess we gotta order a new crib. hm?”
#dad toji#dilf toji x y/n#dilf toji x reader#baby daddy toji#dilf toji#toji is a dilf#jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x you#toji x reader#jjk toji smut#dilf toji smut#jjk smut#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro smut
793 notes
·
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/427e117d15aafe6a9c53ad8e461d0244/231b8ad3648d96cc-dd/s540x810/445634a558e53ff907f4b4bc8d2256c3c4f2fdb3.jpg)
❦︎ And You Look Half Dead Half The Time (nsfw)
(pt. 1) (pt. 2)
| Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader |
side! | Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |
Summary: For six years, you've watched your best friend and only companion mourn a child she barely got to know. Now, you're given a chance that might finally rid her of this lifelong guilt.
Word Count: 6.2k
Warnings: death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, making-out, fingering + cunnilingus (r! receiving), bathroom sex, one use of Y/N even though I tried my best to avoid it lol, extreme jealousy/possessiveness, no-eul is not playing about her girl in this one LOL
A/N: finally reached the romance stuff in this one but there's still some build-up of course, hope you all enjoy and as always, i appreciate any type of feedback or comments, they make the writing worth it!! :D this is so self indulgent omg
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/137e3248fd8def2a05c9257c44e5e5c0/231b8ad3648d96cc-3b/s540x810/0c7d2d7cd58b9ba75900d8f88864f274d612a227.jpg)
—
When the platform begins to spin, you feel a firm grip on your hand, looking up to find Se-mi already staring at you with a calm expression on her face.
“Stick with me.”
You nod, and before you’re able to check on Min-su, you’re nearly thrown off your feet by the sudden stop of the surface you’re on.
“10 players.”
The boom of the announcer clears your senses, and as Thanos and Nam-gyu laugh and spin, you see another group of five waving their hands for more people. You shout at the loudest volume you’ve used since arriving here for them to come over, and with a tight grip on Se-mi’s hand, you drag her to the open room right across the arena. Thanos, Nam-gyu, and Min-su (who you can now see was hiding behind Se-mi) follow right along, and, thank goodness, the other team of 5 do the same.
“Are you okay?” You don’t respond to Se-mi's question because the answer should be obvious with the way you’re trembling, but she only nods in understanding. “Just stay calm, it’ll be fine.” You want to believe her, you truly do, but you see Min-su’s fear, and in that moment, you accept that this may be the game that kills you.
The lock clicks open.
Your group of ten steps out, stepping over the blood of those who lost the last round.
You want to retch, but you stay focused and get back on the platform.
With your hand in Se-mi’s, you block out the happy singing of Thanos and Nam-gyu, opting instead to pat Min-su’s back when you see him basically shaking like a leaf. He jumps, but turns to you with a grateful look in his eye. You pray that he lives, because someone like him should not die in a cold place like this.
“4 players.”
Your heart drops. Thanos glances back and forth between the three of you as Nam-gyu stands at his side. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and your legs are stiff, ready to run. His eyes stop on Min-su, and you know what’s about to happen.
“You-”
“I’ll go.”
Se-mi barely has a chance to react before you rip your hand from hers and run to find another group. Somewhere in the bustle of the crowd, you swear you hear her call your name, but you’re too locked onto three men in the distance. They’re already in the room, but they’re calling for a fourth person. Fear threatens to strangle you as you run over, the countdown playing loud in the overhead speaker. Their eyes are desperate, arms open to beckon you over to save both your life and theirs.
At the last second, you basically ram into one of the men as you barrel into the room, one of them slamming it shut behind you not even a second before the lock clicks. No one speaks as shots ring out from outside the room, and you begin to come to terms with your act of sacrifice for someone you had just met yesterday.
Fuck, what were you thinking? Are you in this to win or not?
The lock clicks open, and you all step outside. There’s even more fresh blood on the ground, blood that you ignore as your eyes search the arena for your old group.
“Y/N!”
You spin fast enough to snap your neck at the sound of her voice, and Se-mi runs over to you followed by the rest of the group. You think she’s about to hug you but she stops just short of it, arms lowering back to her side awkwardly before she resigns to grabbing you by the shoulders instead. For a second, you stare at each other in silence, neither knowing what to say.
“Oh shit, that was too cool girl.” Thano’s voice ruins the moment, but before you all begin heading back to the platform, you hear a soft voice from behind Se-mi.
“Thank you.”
Min-su meekly looks at you with obvious guilt, and Se-mi drops her hands from your shoulders to take your hand as you all walk back towards the center. It’s comforting to have her hand in yours again (especially after you almost died letting go of it).
“It’s fine, I already saw the other group before leaving.” Obvious lie, but he didn’t need to know that.
As you all begin to spin again, Se-mi gives your hand a short squeeze before looking down at you with a gentle smile that, as always, almost looks like a smirk.
“I was right about you.” You chuckle at this and turn away to hide your reddened face, but of course, the moment doesn’t last very long.
“3 players.”
The three of you barely spare a glance at Thanos and Nam-gyu before you grab each other’s hands and run off, hearing the rapper scream a curse at your betrayal. You almost want to laugh, but you’re too focused on holding onto Se-mi and Min-su’s hands for dear life as you run towards one of the few open rooms still available.
They’re filling up too quickly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see two other groups scrambling towards the one room you have your sights set on. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you come to the horrifying realization that groups of three might be too small to fit everyone that was still alive, even if they were all paired up. The thought makes your legs move that much faster, but just as you’re about to reach your safe haven, a body collides with yours and sends you flying towards the floor.
10 seconds left.
“Min-su?!” He was on your left, but where is he?
7 seconds left.
“Get up, get inside the room!” Se-mi. You’re pretty sure it’s her rough hands that grab your sweater and pull you up.
5 seconds left.
“Where is he?! Min-su!” You stumble over your feet, your mind reeling as you’re bouncing back and forth between trying to find him and trying to follow Se-mi into the room.
3 seconds left.
“Wait! Wait, please help me!” He’s half on the ground, half fighting against a man trying to get up in front of him to enter a room to your right. You’re already in yours, and an arm wrapped tight around your waist prevents you from running out to save his life once again.
1 second left.
“Let go! Min-su!”
The buzzer sounds right as the door slams shut in your face.
The lock clicks shut.
Somewhere outside, you hear gunfire and the desperate cries of men and women who failed.
For a second, you think you can hear him begging for his life, but then a single shot rings out and his fate is sealed.
—
Somewhere in the haze of emotions, you continue to grasp onto her arm like a lifeline. Your head rings, and you don’t even hear the announcer’s call for each of the next two rounds. It’s Se-mi who makes sure you’re right next to her the entire time, no matter which group you join or which room you scramble into. She doesn’t bother to ask if you’re okay (because it is extremely obvious this time, with tear tracks on your cheeks and shallow eyes staring into the distance), but her firm hold on you still shows her underlying care. That, and the slight shake of her body reminds you that despite her previous bravado and confidence, she’s still human just like you.
When the game ends, you step over the blood of the losers to make it back to the main room (you wonder if you had stepped on Min-su’s as well - the thought of it makes you sick to your stomach).
Thanos greets the two of you with excitement even after you left him and Nam-gyu in the dust, but you don’t even have it in you to entertain his antics now. Your head was pounding, and the only thing keeping you from curling up into a ball on the spot was Se-mi’s arm around your shoulders; she was holding onto you like you would curl up and die if she let go, which you might.
When you both settle into her bed, you really begin to feel the weight of his absence.
“I’m sorry for grabbing you like that,” she says, her voice quiet as if you were a deer about to sprint away. “...You wouldn’t have made it in time-”
“I know.” You’re curt, almost rude, and you feel bad immediately for your outburst. It wasn’t her fault, you reminded yourself. It wasn’t her fault that your first selfless moment in this hellhole means nothing now. “I… I’m sorry. You saved my life. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Her hand caresses yours, soothing you into finally allowing your tense body to relax.
Something about her gentle demeanor coaxes out a more peaceful side in you, and you lean your head on her shoulder. You’re pleasantly surprised at her lack of resistance, and something in your gut burns when she leans her head right back on yours.
For a second, you think about No-eul and feel a strange amount of guilt creeping up on you, but Se-mi changes her grip on your hand slightly to interlace your fingers and it all goes away. You owe nothing to her. Companionship isn’t something she should bar you from looking for when you face death at her hands everyday now.
What’s so wrong with finding your own comfort in the beautiful, kind, and unexpectedly soft woman sitting next to you?
—
350 million won.
It’s enough for those smugglers, enough for her, and so, it’s enough for you to change your vote.
When red LEDs light up your face and you begin exchanging your blue patch for a red one, you feel the weight of the entire situation crashing down on you.
You chose life this time. From now on, if you die, it won’t be of your own volition anymore. This fact disturbs you greatly, so you’re quick in pushing through the crowd to get right back to Se-mi’s side. You’re glad she chose to live too. If you made it out of here, you wouldn’t want to lose contact with her. Trauma bonds are pretty strong apparently.
—
When two groups of men start walking out of the bathrooms covered in blood and money begins to fill the pig again, you shuffle a bit closer to Se-mi, and her grip on your hand tightens.
Supposedly it was a brawl, and from the frantic head counts of both sides, the O’s had lost one extra man. The sight of a bloody Nam-gyu shuffling onto Thano’s bed, shaking from the drugs with a frantic, bloodthirsty look in his eyes made your stomach drop. Now, there was no idiotic rapper to take hold of his leash, and you were sure he would want to kill you two after you turned your backs on him twice.
The cold steel of the fork you took from dinner provided a comforting weight inside your pocket.
“Se-mi.” She turns towards you.
“Yeah?”
“Sleep on this side tonight, okay?” Your grip on her arm is tight and you know you must look completely shaken by now, but she still gives her signature confident smirk.
“Sure, but you better make it worth my while.”
Your face goes red and you scoff, making her chuckle. God, you’re glad you have someone like this by your side.
—
When the screams begin, you immediately dig into your pocket and pull out your makeshift weapon. You want to call out for her, but you’re terrified that if you make a single noise, you and her will be swarmed by the wolves tearing apart the people all around you.
Where the fuck are the guards?! No, who are you kidding, of course they would sit by and let you kill each other. Probably the highlight of their night. Under the fear, you feel so much anger and pain at the situation that you can barely focus.
No-eul’s face flashes in your mind once again but now, you’re beginning to struggle to differentiate her from the other murderers all around you.
No, no, no. You can’t think that way. She’s not like any of them.
“You traitor bitch!” You turn your head down to look for the familiar voice, and to your utter horror, Nam-gyu is standing right below you. Across from him (and cornered against the wall) is Se-mi. Even with the strobing lights, you can see the intense fear under her angry expression. “I’m gonna fucking gut you!”
When he charges at her, you make one of the easiest choices of your entire life and roll off the side of the bunk.
You nearly miss your landing, but your fork doesn’t and his scream of pain reveals that instantly. You take both him and yourself to the ground, but your heart is racing and you can still feel him bucking from beneath you, so you don’t get a chance to breathe before yanking the fork out of his shoulder and slamming it back down into the side of his neck. The feeling of it sinking it and spraying your hand with hot blood is sickening beyond belief, but you block out everything except the feeling of his squirming beneath you and raise the metal above your head again.
You aren’t sure how many times you bring it down on him, but a body colliding into yours knocks you out of your spiral.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Se-mi’s voice barely comprehends in your ears, but you can feel her arms around you clearly. “He’s dead, it’s okay, we’re okay.” Her hand rubs your back soothingly, and only then do you realize there are tears pouring down your cheeks.
Your chest heaves as you openly sob, clinging to her like a lifeline and unintentionally smearing the back of her sweater with Nam-gyu’s blood. You shut out everything but her voice, and even when the guards enter and fire into the air, you don’t find yourself flinching once, simply dropping to the floor still in her arms.
—
When some of the players gun down all the guards in the room, you hide in the corner with Se-mi (who was still whispering comforting words into your ears). You watch as players 120 and 456 take center stage in the room, shutting down the last bits of the riot and forcing the one square-mask guard onto his knees. They call for others to join them, others with military experience or even those with the faintest idea of how to use a gun.
Of course, you had military experience right alongside No-eul, but the ache in your body and the tight grip Se-mi has on you keeps you from getting up. Your head pounds and spins as your eyes begin trailing around the slaughterhouse of a room.
Dead people in green, dead people in pink. Your eyes linger on the guards and their triangle-masks, immediately recalling the shape No-eul had on hers.
What if…
No.
The moment the team of rebels leaves, you go to get up but a tight grip on your forearm drags you right back down.
“Hey, hey, where are you going?” Her eyes are confused but her voice is just as gentle as it’s been the entire time she sat there combing her fingers through your hair and whispering about how brave you were and how thankful she was. “Talk to me please, what’s wrong?”
“I just need to check something, that’s all.” She doesn’t look satisfied, but Se-mi lets you get up after you give her a brisk hug and a strained smile.
With a shaky breath, you begin to make your rounds. You can feel the eyes on you as you walk up the first guard and pull off their mask, letting out a quiet sigh of relief at the lack of familiarity in their dead eyes.
With each one, you grow more and more tense, steeling yourself for the possibility of seeing No-eul’s empty, dead eyes staring back at you.
It would be the thing that kills you. The loss of your reason to fight in the first place.
Kneeling down next to the final guard, you can barely breathe as your fingers brush against the edge of their mask. Your hands are shaking so bad and you curse yourself for your sudden lack of strength. You would die if it was her. You would pull that fork out of Nam-gyu’s neck and jam it in your own if it was her.
Shutting your eyes tightly, you tug it off and let it clatter to the side. Your breathing slows when you peek and immediately recognize the face as belonging to a younger man’s, not your No-eul.
Please God, give me this one thing and let her live. Let us leave with my blood money and never come back.
—
You can’t even feel joy or disappointment when the rebellion inevitably ends in a whimper.
456 is dragged in and from a quick glance around the room, you see that 001 and 390 are missing as well. 120 and 388 sit dejectedly not too far away from you, and you can’t help but feel for them; they were people, far stronger than you, that failed to be the heroes. You can’t judge them, you never even considered fighting alongside these brave people in the first place.
Now that everything has calmed down again and lights-out happens like every other night and not the bloodbath that ensued earlier, you’re far more aware of the sticky feeling of blood on your skin. Your sweater even feels slightly heavier, the entire front of it stained with deep red fluid.
“I-I need to wash this off.” Se-mi, who was almost drifting off next to you, shoots awake and gets up right behind you.
“I’ll come with you.” It’s an unspoken fact that she definitely would, but you’re still happy at the confirmation.
In the haze of everything that’s occurred, you completely forget that No-eul has been the only reason you’ve been able to get into the bathroom these days, and the only reason she lets you in is because you’re you. So, when you call out and the door opens as usual, you’re confused at her stiff posture. However, after a weird awkward silence, she steps aside to let both you and Se-mi in, almost slamming the door behind you two.
—
No-eul’s eyes trail you two as you enter the bathroom together, and she can barely control herself from charging in there and kicking 380 out altogether; she had warned you about people like her, so what were you still doing clinging to her side like that? Moreover, seeing the blood practically covering your entire front was like a gut punch.
She should’ve been there. She should’ve blown the heads off of whoever did that to you. She’s been careless, and she understands that now.
The worst she felt was during the Mingle game. Each time she had been sent in, her breath would hitch and she would hesitate for a few seconds at the entrance, eyes scanning the wide open area for any signs of you. Every single time she failed to spot the number 037 on the clothes of those she shot, a weight would be lifted off of her shoulders.
After the final round, the room doors had opened just before she was able to leave through the soldier’s door. She takes the chance to search for your kind face, and instead is faced with the sight of you practically hanging off of 380, a lost, soulless look in your eyes. Pain for your sadness mixes with some other ugly emotion, and for a second, she lets herself imagine how your expression would change if she sent a bullet through 380’s heart.
Would you cry out for that woman, or would you call No-eul’s name out of instinct, like a lost animal begging for comfort?
In the end, she simply leaves with her fellow soldiers, silently cursing herself for such a violent thought.
—
As you scrub the blood off your face, neck, and hands, you do your best to not let your gaze drift back over to Se-mi. She finishes cleaning up long before you, and you can feel her eyes on you as you scrub away. But no matter how hard you seem to scratch at your hands, the faint red tint just won’t come out. Your breathing grows heavy, and you begin to rub at it harder with the soap.
Your hands are still red.
The blood from his neck covers your hands, the sounds, the sounds-
“That’s good enough,” a soft voice sounds from beside you, gently taking your hands in hers as you shake.
“No, no, there’s still blood, I-, there’s still…” You turn your hands this way and that, examining them and the red tint you can’t seem to get rid of.
“It’s not blood, you’ve just been rubbing too hard…” She shushes you gently and her thumbs begin tracing circles on your raw palms. “I’m sorry you had to do that, I really am.”
You can only shake your head and press your face in the crook of her neck. It’s a familiar position, one you were in only last night but with a completely different woman. She’s just as soft as No-eul, but she doesn’t wrap her arms around your body and pull you close. Instead, her fingers find the zipper of your bloodied sweater and gently begin to pull it down. The motion makes you back away a little, and she lets your sweater fall to the ground after tugging it off you.
It’s freeing without the weight of all that blood on you, and your heart swells when she takes off her own jacket to put it on you. This is the kind of care you rarely find yourself receiving, and whenever you did, it was usually by the hand of only one other person. You would have never expected the cocky, confident girl you met two days ago would become this important to you.
You were right about her. Se-mi was the ever genuine, ever caring woman you hoped she was after your first real conversation together, and you wonder if the world finally decided to go easy on you for once by sending you a beacon of strength in the middle of this hellhole.
“Thank you, Se-mi,” you breathe out, the feeling of her fingertips grazing the skin of your arms still present long after her hands have dropped back to her side.
She doesn’t respond. Her gaze is still heavy on you, but this time, you hold eye contact and let yourself drown in her eyes. For a split second, you’re sure you see them dart down to your lips, and you think she might just eat you alive with the way she’s examining you.
In an act that surprises even yourself, it’s you who leans forward and presses your lips against hers. Cliche fireworks don’t go off, but the second she reciprocates by grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, you feel the tension between you two finally reach a high point, and it’s euphoric.
You hold each other with pure, unadulterated desire as one of her hands travel down to your waist, pulling you in. The kiss deepens and somewhere in the back of your mind, you think of No-eul. She was right outside that door, what if you were caught?
What the hell are you thinking about right now?
“You’re beautiful, so perfect,” she whispers, and her words make your heart beat that much faster. “My brave girl.” Se-mi breaks the kiss to press her lips against your neck now instead, drawing a moan from deep in your throat. She’s still holding onto you like her life depends on it.
Unfortunately, your mind is still whirling and you have to remind yourself once again that you owe No-eul absolutely nothing. She shouldn’t and wouldn’t be angry over you finding someone to love, who loved you in a place like this. Is it wrong to search for comfort when you’re so sure you might die tomorrow? Especially from someone like Se-mi, who has done nothing but protect you and care for you.
Your hands tangle in her hair as she slides a hand beneath your shirt-
“Player 380.”
You spin around as the door slams open, a gruff voice making you jump apart from Se-mi. You shouldn’t feel ashamed, but you do, especially when you can feel No-eul’s eyes trailing up and down your disheveled form, and you know she knows exactly what happened here.
“Get back to the room.” You look down to see her revolver gripped tightly in her hand, as if she’s fighting the urge to lift it.
“Just give us a couple more-”
“Now.” She practically growls out that last word, and you can hear a click in the silent bathroom as she loads her revolver at her side.
Se-mi is brave, but she’s still smart enough to realize that she’s being threatened and would not win a fight against the taller woman with a loaded gun. WIth her head held high, she takes your hand and begins walking around the guard, but No-eul steps in her way and shakes her head.
“037 stays.” You all pause, and Se-mi grips your hand tighter.
“What? What the fuck are you on about? Just let us go back to the room-”
“She stays. Now get out before I make you.” No-eul takes a step forward, hand raising to point the barrel of the gun in Se-mi’s face.
It’s difficult to hold herself back when she’s this close to doing what she wants with this random woman who’s begun impeaching on her world. The barrier holding you and No-eul together, apart from everyone else, has been disrupted, and she begins to wonder if you’ll actually hate her if she pulls the trigger now. She wants to, especially hearing you fucking moan for this woman.
Where else has she touched you?
Her trigger finger twitches.
“It’s okay, Se-mi,” you whisper, breaking your gaze from No-eul to look over at her.
First name basis? You really want her to kill this woman.
“Just go, I’ll see you in a bit.”
Se-mi looks at you, confusion apparent in her features, but your face is perfectly calm and even though that disturbs her a little, she accepts it. She’ll trust you to stay alive with this psycho.
“Okay, just call out for me if you need anything.” No-eul scoffs at this, earning a glare from Se-mi before she walks out the bathroom. She spares you one final glance over her shoulder, and with a nod from you, she exits.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?!” You’re practically burning with anger at her behavior, but No-eul ignores your outburst and walks over to the door, turning the latch to lock it before turning back around to look at you. “You think ‘cause you have that mask on you can just go around pointing your gun at everyone?!”
“And what the hell were you doing?” She pulls her mask off, throwing it to the floor before pulling down her face covering. Now, you can actually see the anger simmering beneath her eyes, an accusatory look on her face as she steps closer. “Were you planning on having sex with her or something? This stranger you just met?”
Your face begins to burn for a different reason now.
“That’s… that’s none of your business. I’m a grown woman, I can decide what I want to do or not do.” Your voice is far too unsure and she laughs sarcastically. Running a hand through her sweaty hair, she approaches to stand right in front of you. Your breathing slows as her eyes trail down your face, locking onto the number 380 right above your heart. Her lips curl into a frown and she grabs Se-mi’s sweater, looking like she wanted to burn a hole through the number on your chest.
To her, it’s a reminder of her failure to protect you as she swore she always would, and now, in the wake of this failure, another person has come along and threatened to take her place - a place in your life she would kill anyone to keep.
“Take this off,” she breathes out. The air is tense, and you almost want to deny her just to see what she would do, but fuck, she almost looks genuinely hurt and you can’t say no now.
With your eyes still locked onto hers, you slowly pull the sweater off and let it drop to the ground at your feet. Her eyes are still pinned to your chest, but now you’re so close that you can feel her soft breathing on your face. You swallow harshly and press your face against her shoulder, bunching up her pink tracksuit in your hands as you pull her closer. The feeling of her so close again kills all the tension in your shoulders. This is the safest you’ve felt in 24 hours, and it’s in the arms of a woman who’s been killing people like you the entire time.
You’re almost a bit ashamed, but what’s wrong with being a bit selfish for once?
You’re shaking in her arms when she pulls back slightly to cup your wet cheeks in her hands. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying again, but now, she’s looking down at your glassy eyes and swollen lips with so much intensity that you forget why you were crying in the first place. Her thumb swipes a tear off your cheek before she leans down, lips brushing against yours.
“My beautiful girl.”
Finally, nine years after the day you met, she presses her lips against yours and claims you as hers. Faintly, you feel your back collide with the wall behind you as her tongue slips in your mouth. You’re holding onto her suit for dear life as she practically devours you, and you wonder how you were ever angry at this woman. It’s far more intense than the softness you experienced earlier with Se-mi, and you’re beginning to feel the effects of being pent up for so long.
It’s not like you’ve never had sex with her before (to be fair, it’s only happened once), but this was far too emotional to be compared to the drunken haze you were both in when she fucked you over the seat of her van. There were no kisses shared then, no gentle caress of your face before she took you for herself.
You’re dragged from your own thoughts when you feel a hand slide under your shirt and bra, gasping into her mouth as a cold hand cups your breast, roughly pinching your nipple between two fingers. You whimper right into her ear as her lips move down to your neck, sucking and biting as you openly pant. She’s practically surrounded you by now, but it’s not enough.
With trembling hands, you grab the zipper of her pink suit and yank it down to reveal her slender body underneath. She practically tears the black turtleneck underneath the suit off as you stare. Your fingers scratch down her toned torso and you drink in the wonderful groan that leaves her mouth. As you’re preoccupied, she tugs on the hem of your sweatpants, pulling them down right along with your panties in one pull.
Faintly, as her hands grip the plush of your thighs, you try to determine if you’ve ever felt such strong feelings of desire, of love, of anything with anybody.
No, you’re sure you’ve felt this before.
Your eyes shoot open as she calls your name. Somewhere in the haze, No-eul has dropped to her knees in front of you, and now, she’s looking at you like you hold the world in your hands.
“Do you still love me?” A pause, and her fingers press harder into your thigh, cold leather gloves long forgotten on the floor. “Can you still accept me?”
Every moment that you remember being so close to that overwhelming emotion, No-eul is right there next to you.
“I’ve loved you since the day we met.”
A tear falls from her pained eyes, but you aren’t given the opportunity to wipe it away before she leans forward and presses her open mouth against your core. A gasp leaves your mouth and you immediately tangle your fingers in her short hair. It’s a bit too much to take in all at once - the woman you’ve loved for years is fucking you, and this time, you think she might actually love you back.
No, who are you kidding, you know she loves you. Maybe not as much as you love her, but she has to love you if she’s on her knees like this for you.
With the comfort of this knowledge, you lean your head back and lose yourself in the feeling of her tongue deep inside you, strong hands holding you still against the wall even if your legs feel like giving out. As your moans and pants fill the room, you beg internally that Se-mi isn’t waiting right outside the door to walk you back (or at least let the sound-proofing be decent).
Unsurprisingly, after a couple years without any genuine intimacy with anyone (you couldn’t bear to let anyone fuck you after No-eul did), you reach your peak quickly. It doesn’t feel like some triumphant moment; your legs shake as the tight coil in your stomach unwinds and it’s satisfying to some extent, but you can’t stop the sudden rush of tears that follow.
Why did your acceptance of your feelings for her have to come in a place like this - covered in the blood of someone you killed with your own two hands?
Your legs finally give out in your grief, but she’s quick to catch you, leaning back to properly sit down on the floor as she carefully guides you onto her lap. For a moment, you just tuck your head in her neck and cry as a hand gently rubs your back.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” No-eul whispers, caught up in her own guilt for leading you down the same hateful path she accepted long ago. Why did you have to love her? Why did you have to follow her road towards self-destruction, the one she vowed to shield you from?
You want to tell her that she has nothing to be sorry about because you chose all of this on your own, but you can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re worried that if you open your mouth now, all you’ll do is start spouting nonsense about how much you love her and how much of your humanity you would forsake to protect her dream.
Instead of further exposing yourself, you gently take the hand she’s kept on your waist and guide it down lower once again. To her credit, she understands right away and you’re given no time to prepare for the two long, slender fingers she pushes inside you. The sound of your sharp inhale right next to her ear must’ve been enough confirmation that you were okay, because she immediately starts moving them up and down inside you, rubbing gently against your still sensitive walls.
Your hands wrap around her back and grip her shoulders as your hips begin to move in tandem with her hands, your heavy breathing a stark contrast against her soft one. The hand she had on your back is still there, soothing you until your tears turn from ones of sadness to ones of pleasure.
As the high you’re chasing starts to get closer, you tear your nails down her back. Even though she’s still the same person as she was minutes ago, something feels different this time.
“Please don’t stop, please-”
“I won’t, I swear.” The hand on your back flies down to grip your hips to hold you steady as your movements grow more frantic. “I’ll never let you go, not for anything.”
You almost fall forward when she suddenly leans back, but you catch yourself on her shoulders once again. This time, she looks you square in the eyes as she pushes you over the edge, her gaze filled with an emotion you know too well.
“I love you,” she breathes out, and this is all you need to fall apart in her hands. “I’m in love with you, I can’t let you go, I won���t.”
In the afterglow of the moment, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you right up against her body.
“Even if you can’t love me anymore, I’ll continue holding onto you for the rest of my life.”
You smile at her words. You feel more content than you ever have before.
It wouldn’t be so bad to die in this place now.
—
A/N: my bad min-su fans and nam-guy fans, its for the plot y'all😭😭also if im being completely honest, I started writing writing this longass story just for smut with no-eul but it got so unexpectedly deep cuz I couldn't handle writing it with no build-up or emotional tension or ANYTHING
hope y'all enjoyed and LOL to the fellow FREAKS out there I hope the smut was alright cuz that was the most difficult part for me... LMK WHAT U THINK!! pt. 3 is coming in SEVEN MONTHS LMFAO😭😭😭SEASON 3 SAVE ME... SAVE ME SEASON 3
also if u request feel free to add details and stuff I might be able to build it into a longass story like this (but WOW this took too long) also I LOVE TO WRITE SAD SHT!!! SEND ME SAD SHT ILL LOVE IT!!
Taglist: @asvterias
#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#se mi squid game#se mi x reader#player 380#kang no eul#kang no eul x reader#guard 011#squid game#wlw#angst#smut#kang noeul x reader#semi x reader
472 notes
·
View notes
Text
For any potential tiktok refugees as it gets banned in the us:
• the algorithm does not work like the fyp, you need to follow blogs and reblog things to see things you like
• add a bio, header, and/or pfp!! people may block you if you don't have any of those thinking you're a bot
•tags are for categorization, tagging posts with 'trending' tags won't boost them, it'll just get people to report you for spam
•REBLOG. PLEASE. if you like someone's post then reblog! that's what actually shows it to people! like do basically nothing!!
• you can have multiple blogs. make as many as you want!! have one for shitposts and one for fun art and one for aesthetics and one for your weird niche porn, have fun!
•you can block tags! use that however you wish!
•avoid censoring sensitive terms in your posts and tags, spelling things L1k3 th15 makes it really hard for screen readers and folks who are trying to block certain terms. if someone has 'suicide' blocked and you spell it 'sewerslide' or 'sv1c1d3" they could still see that triggering content
•we're all weird here. block folks who don't match your freak. don't yuck other people's yums if it's harmless [and most things are], you're on tumblr. don't act like you're any better than anyone else in this damp hellhole of a site.
•uhhhhhhh, have fun and be yourself.? idk
450 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't
Premise: Brilliant sunshine!reader gets heat stroke on a case. Your best friend, Spencer Reid, is predictably worried about you. What he doesn't expect is to be forced to come to terms with his feelings for you.
Word count: approx. 3,200
TW: Brief mention of vomit and, perhaps, hospitals
(Y/N/N): Your nickname
Author's Note: Super excited to introduce brilliant sunshine!reader (aka, super smart sunshine!reader) onto my fanfic writing scene! Definitely willing to write more of her in the future if anyone is interested. Hope you enjoy!
“Does anybody have more water?”
“Where is the damn ambulance?”
Perhaps your job classically conditioned you to respond to Hotch’s “I’m seriously not fucking around” tone because your eyes crack open.
Someone put weights on your eyelids and cranked the sun to extra-bright. The harsh rays burned your retinas and washed everything in a white blur. Did someone set off a flash bang?
“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” Miraculously, out of the screeching white, you made out JJ’s halo of blonde hair.
“JJ?” You groaned. Even though you could barely see, it felt like the whole world was spinning,
“Hotch, she’s coming around!” You recognized Morgan’s voice. “Welcome back to the world of the living, honey. We’re happy to see you.”
Your heart rate spiked. You never died. Did you die?
“Yes, we still need a medic!” Hotch barked.
You winced. “Wha?” Suddenly, your mouth couldn’t handle a one-syllable world. Even more alarming, your brain, the same brain that kept up with Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid, couldn’t understand what the hell was going on.
“What I do?” You whined.
“He’s not yelling at you, honey,” JJ said like a kindergarten teacher. “You’re just a little out of it right now.”
“Is she conscious?” Another voice entered. Your head spun. “I brought more water.”
You moaned to suppress a gag. Your eyelids drooped, and you relished in the break from the light.
“Hey, smarty pants, stay with us.” Morgan pat your cheek. “Let Emily get some water in you.” You couldn’t force your eyes open more if you tried.
Your friend Emily. That’s who the voice belonged to.
Suddenly, JJ pulled your hair from your face, Morgan lifted your head, and Emily forced a water bottle to your lips simultaneously. The blinding glare seared your eyes and your head spun. You wanted to sob and maybe vomit.
Your chest hitched with a shallow inhale. “Stop.” You whined.
“(Y/N), it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” JJ said.
“No!” You exclaimed.
“Honey–” Morgan tried.
You thrashed against his hold, but your exhausted muscles couldn’t throw Morgan’s gentlest grip.
“Maybe we should let her go.” Emily said.
“She needs water.” JJ countered.
“She’s disoriented.” Hotch cut in. “Let her get her bearings first, but don’t let her close her eyes.”
Gingerly, Morgan lay your body back on the grass. Your head swam, and your vision rippled as if you could see the heat waves in the California air. You tried to take a deep breath but choked.
You sputtered. Every inhale led to a series of dry coughs. In your delirium, you thought of Spencer. Your Spencer. Where the hell was he? Did he not love you anymore?
Suddenly, Hotch loomed over you. His tall frame blocked out the brutality of the sun’s glare, which eased your headache and nausea but not your cough. His eyebrows were so deeply furrowed they formed a trench of wrinkles across his forehead. “Check her airway.”
Suddenly, you stared into JJ’s blue eyes. Other hands tried to manipulate your body. You jerked.
“(Y/N), relax.”
“Honey, please–”
“Turn her on her side!” Morgan’s cut off by Reid, his voice sharper than you’d ever heard.
***
Spencer Reid has survived many traumatic situations.
He's cared for his schizophrenic mother. He’s been kidnapped. He recovered from a drug addiction. And those are just a few items from his dissertation-length “PTSD-Causing Experiences” list.
But many of his worst traumas were a by-product of being a profiler– a job which allowed him to utilize his intellect to help others. He was willing to accrue trauma like Pokemon cards in exchange for applying his genetic gifts to create a safer world.
Reid could have framed your heat exhaustion as another scare in the line of duty. But when Reid saw you, his brilliant girl, on the ground, his heart fell through his feet.
Then, he saw how his the team responded to your medical emergency.
When he witnessed you coughing and writhing on your back as the team leered over with water, he thought he might explode.
You could be asphyxiating, and the team could be letting you choke while forcing more fluid down your throat.
He shivered as he sprinted down the steps of the local precinct and onto the grassy field where you lay.
“Turn her on her side!” He yelled as diagnoses and courses of action fled through his mind on hyperspeed.
“We’re trying, she—”
“Spence?” You choked out through a coughing fit. He’s surprised his ears caught it.
Reid knelt next to you. “Let’s get you into recovery position.” He said, his voice suddenly soft as clouds. Reid gingerly pushed you onto your left side. “Off your back, there we go.” He bent your right leg and slid it in front of your body to prevent you from rolling onto your stomach if you lost consciousness.
“Did she faint?” Reid asked the team. He couldn’t take his eyes from your face.
“We think so. She was dizzy, so she laid on the ground. Then she was unresponsive for at least 40 seconds,” Emily said.
Spencer pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Predictably, you were feverishly hot. “She’s burning up. Has someone called an ambulance?”
“Allegedly.” Hotch said, an edge to his voice.
“We have, sir. They’re on their way.” A local police officer responded, exasperated.
Spencer’s eye twitched. “How long has she been down?” You whined, and he stroked your cheekbone with his thumb.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He whispered.
“In total, 15 minutes.” Hotch supplied. “Emily, pour some more water on her.”
“This was for her to drink.”
“Use one bottle to pour on her face and neck.” Spencer said. “I ran and got Gatorade. She should start with sips of that when she can swallow. Heat stroke can also be caused by salt depletion.”
Spencer was conversing with a local officer over the safety protocols in the area when a pair of policemen walked into the precinct, gossiping about the FBI agent who “folded fast in the southern Cali heat.”
Spencer’s jaw had clenched. Maybe one of his team members was ill since they put in most of the grunt work to catch the unsub. He would’ve been more annoyed if not for the worry gnawing at his brain. What if they were talking about (Y/N)? She looked a little shaky right after her chase with the unsub, but Spencer didn’t get a chance to ask his friend if she was alright. And, stupidly enough, he forgot to text her to check if she drank any water post-case. Quickly, Reid excused himself, grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, and rushed to the field where your limp body trembled on the grass.
“I’m going to pour some water on you, honey," Emily said. You flinched as the frigid water hit your hairline.
“Breathe, relax.” Spencer said, shielding your nose. The last thing you needed was some accidental waterboarding.
Seconds after the water drenched your forehead, your whole body relaxed into the grass. “That felt good.” You smiled weakly.
Spencer stroked your arm. “Let’s sit you up in a minute, okay? You should try some Gatorade before the EMTs get here.”
“EMTs? I’m fine.” You whined.
Spencer didn’t think it was possible for his eyebrows to crease further.
“You’re not fine.” Gentler, he said, “and it’s okay not to be fine, sunlight.”
“But, I’m alive.” You tried to roll onto your stomach, but your bent leg kept you safe on your back.
Some on the team members chuckled, but Spencer didn’t find your delirium humorous. “I know you’re alive, sweetie. But you’re way too hot. I think you’re a little confused right now.”
“I’m just…” You winced. “I’m alive.”
The knot in Spencer’s chest tightened ten-fold. This could be heat stroke. At the very least, you had heat exhaustion. You were dehydrated. You were delirious.
Best case scenario: you were ill for a few days. Worst case scenario: You had vital organ damage.
Just as he’s about to call 911 himself, JJ interrupted him. “Look–ambulance lights. Help is on the way, honey.”
“You hear that, (Y/N)? You’re gonna be fine.” Morgan said. If only Spencer felt that confident.
“Spence…” You blocked your eyes from the light with your limp right hand. “I’m scared. I don’t feel well.”
“Oh, (Y/N), I know.” He cupped your shoulder and hoped you could feel his love for you through his palm. That sent a jolt down his spine. He wasn’t supposed to comfortably think those thoughts about you.
You were sick. This wasn’t the time. He leaned over your body. He gave you plenty of breathing room, but his torso was parallel to your hip so his eyes could meet your watering ones. “Hey, take a breath for me, Smartie.”
Your nickname for him slipped from his tongue so easily it spooked him. Suddenly, he noticed his thumb stroking over your cotton t-shirt. He should stop. The whole team was watching. He was being was too intimate; he'd face stupid quips from Morgan for days. He kept stroking anyway.
He observed your chest rise and fall. Your breaths were shaky but deeper. He relaxed a tad. Vital oxygen was reaching your bloodstream.
“(Y/N), can we try something?” Spencer asked.
“Yes. Maybe. What is it?”
The knot in his chest loosened. You responded immediately and with more than two words; you were becoming more lucid.
“Can you sit up and have some sips of Gatorade? I got your favorite flavor. At least, if your favorite flavor hasn’t changed from three years ago.” It most likely hadn’t. Once your opinion settled, it was frustratingly hard to erode your verdict.
“I can’t…I don’t know.”
“I know sitting up is hard. I’ll help you. And I’ll prop you against my chest. I’ll hold your weight when you can’t.”
“KK, Spence.” Your childlike tone tugged at his heart strings.
Spencer and Morgan lifted your limp body from the ground. They manhandled you into a sitting position with your head propped on Spencer’s shoulder and your body tucked between his thighs.
One of his arms stabilized you while the other raised a cold bottle of orange Gatorade to your lips.
After nine sips of Gatorade, you spoke again.
“Orange.” You took another sip. "My favorite.”
He smiled into your hair. “When have I ever lied to you, (Y/N/N)?”
***
Spencer nearly created a crater in the linoleum floor of the ER waiting room with his bouncing heel by the time the doctor came back with an update.
“She had a mild case of heat stroke. We currently have her on fluids, and she’ll need lots of rest for at least the next week.” Doctor Bahamani concluded.
“No signs of metabolic dysfunction? Any respiratory distress?” Reid checked.
Doctor Bahamani smiled knowingly. “She’s going to be just fine, Doctor Reid.”
“Can I see her?” Spencer asked.
“Yes. Only two at a time, please.”
Spencer didn’t care who volunteered with him. He moved without thinking. An outpouring of gratitude for his eidetic memory flooded him. Through the thickest brain fog, he could trust his recollection of the hospital to bring him to the correct hospital room.
The security staff practically had to drag him away from your bedside after the ambulance ride. They might have thrown him out of the ER if not for the flash of his FBI badge.
Something nagged at him as he sped past the nursing station.
You were going to be fine. The ER doctor confirmed it. Yet his heart was still pounding and he could barely refrain from running. Even more odd, he wasn’t ashamed of his irrational behavior.
So what if a doctor deemed you were okay? It was you. And he saw you groggier and more out of it than you'd ever been. And who knows how thorough the doctors were with their examination? It was completely reasonable to worry for one of his closest friends.
He just couldn't believe you were alright until he checked you over with his own hands and his own eyes.
***
When you grinned at him from your cot, Spencer wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.
Tears glazed your eyes. But, your gorgeous smile was back.
“Spencer?” You asked, brow raised and head cocked.
He’d been staring too long. He looked like an idiot, lamely standing in the doorway as if he were the one with heat stroke.
“Straighten your head. Your neck is probably tight.”
You smiled, but this time it was tight-lipped and painful-looking. “You’re too worried.”
He watched saline drip down your IV. “Of course I’m worried, (Y/N). You got heat stroke.” With a deep breath as a shot of courage, he sat in the chair by the head of your bed.
There was nothing odd about sitting with his best friend at the hospital.
His chest twisted at “best friend” and his resolve collapsed. He couldn’t deny it anymore.
He liked you. He really, really liked you. He actually might even–
“Luckily, I got out pretty unscathed.” You snapped Spencer out of his spiral. “A little dehydrated. Achy. Might feel sick for a few days.”
“Or weeks.” Spencer corrected.
“Trying to look on the bright side here, Doctor.” You smirked and Spencer swore his right ventricle tightened.
Then, your nose scrunched and Spencer's wiped clean of any concern about his cardiac health.
“What hurts?”
“Just a little achy, Spencer. I’m alright.”
He shot you a look. He knew all your excuses. He knew you went to self-harming lengths to not worry people.
“You’re not alright.” He reached for the red nurse-call button.
Your eyes widened in surprise. “Okay…my body aches, Spence. And the IV burns. But they’ve already told me that’s normal. No need to take nurses away from an emergency.”
The nurses at the station desk didn’t appear to be rushing around for anyone, but Spencer feared this wouldn’t behoove his case.
“They can give you pain medication, if you want.”
You hesitated, and immediately Spencer pressed the button. When you smiled weakly instead of bickering, his worry grew tenfold but not without a rush of heat flooding his entire body.
In Morgan's words, he’s down bad.
“How are you doing, sunshine?” As if he’d been summoned, Morgan appeared in the doorway.
Spencer stepped back from your cot. The part of him riled from Morgan’s “sunshine” moniker wants to shove his hand into yours. Spencer thought he hid his annoyance well, but something about Morgan's smirk told him otherwise.
“Um…”
Morgan’s smirk fell. “You feel that bad, huh?”
You chuckled sadly. “Do I look that shitty or am I an open book today?”
“You never look shitty,” Spencer said. A tsunami of blood rushed to his face.
“Anyway,” Morgan said, “Do you want anything, Beauty Queen? I can grab you some jello.”
“Jello sounds nice.” You said, and something in your voice was so vulnerable and naive Spencer wanted to wrap you in his arms as tight as he could. Which was illogical. That would only hurt you further.
He shook his head as if that would remove the thoughts from his mind. “I’m gonna see if I can check up on your labs at the nurse’s station. I’ll make sure they’re giving you the good drugs.” He smiled.
You laughed– a genuine laugh– and Spencer’s heart soared. “Thanks, Spence.”
“I’ll go grab your jello,” Morgan said.
“Hold on, you should stay with her just in case she needs anything," Spencer said.
“I’ll be fine, Spence.” You said, but Spencer was not prepared to take "no" for an answer.
“If you boys wants to run her some errands, I’ll stay.” Emily stood in the doorway. “JJ is coming soon too– she just got a phone call from a very frantic Penelope.”
Your nose crinkled. “Oh no.” You groaned, but you were smiling.
“Oh, yes. Be prepared for some mother henning," Emily said.
“Garcia can’t be any more mother henning than Reid," Morgan said.
Before his face could turn redder than a baboon’s bottom, Spencer fled.
He’s only two yards from the nursing station when Morgan intercepted him at the end of the hall.
“So, you’re going to make your move, right?”
Spencer's body temperature plummeted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tried to shoulder past Morgan, but he was no match for his grip strength. “Reid, c’mon. You like (Y/N).”
Part of him wanted to laugh. “Like” seemed too simple of a word to describe the symphony of feelings (Y/N) started in him. “It’s…” He’s too tongue-tied to lie. “It’s complicated.”
You’re brilliant. You’re beautiful. You’re brimming with empathy. You’re everything Spencer could want. And it scared the shit out of him. Because that meant there’s even more to lose. And if he lost you, there would be no one to blame but himself. It was better for his psyche to not go there with you– to step back from the line rather than risk what would happen if he failed to make it work in the end.
And what if you got hurt? What is you fell in the line of duty? Or worse, what if someone targeted you because of your romantic tie to him? Spencer's already experienced the pain of losing a soulmate-- a concept he wasn't even sure he believed in-- once. He wasn't not sure if he could survive it a second time.
There was too much unpredictability in his life. He chose a dangerous profession. He was gifted a ticking time-bomb of dangerous genes. He’d never forgive himself if he inflicted onto you the pain he’s been through; losing loved ones, whether through death or mental illness.
Morgan's expression turned sympathetic. “Reid, you should give it a shot. Our lives our hectic. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”
Spencer blinked to block tears from welling. “I just want her to be happy, too.”
“And who says you don't make her happy?”
“His idiotic genius brain.” Rossi appeared from around the corner.
Spencer froze. “You heard?” His face flushed yet again.
“Just the tail end. But Reid…” He trailed off.
Morgan took the hint. “I’m going to get (Y/N) some jello. With my charm, I could negotiate for some whipped cream.”
“Don’t get whipped cream on it. She’s lactose sensitive,” Spencer said.
Morgan's stupid smirk reappeared. “Gotcha, Reid.”
Rossi took Morgan's place. Once Morgan was out of sight, he began his speech. “You love her. Don’t get in your own way.” Rossi put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “And (Y/N) is an incredibly intelligent woman. Don’t insult her intelligence by thinking she can’t decide who is or is not worth taking a risk. And for what it’s worth…a man like you is worth the risk.”
Rossi left Reid staring at his back.
For the longest time, Reid convinced himself he refrained from asking you out to protect you from himself and his hefty baggage. And that’s not completely untrue.
But suddenly, he realized he was primarily trying to protect himself from exposing his vulnerabilities to you this whole time. There’s never been a person whose opinion affected him like yours. There's never been a life he's wanted to protect more except perhaps...Maeve.
But just like it’s up to you to decide who’s worth the risk, it’s up to him to decide as well.
And if today taught him anything, shit happens. And if you slip through his fingers, he doesn't want it to because he wasn't brave enough to make a first move.
And being your person was more than worth the risk of rejection.
Author's Note: Thank you to so much to everyone who stuck around through my hiatus! I appreciate every single one of you! You're super cool :)
Happy to be back! Inbox is open to chat about writing and take requests! Please check pinned "Blurb Requests" post before requesting! (Will update the post as my boundaries update!)
Have an awesome day or night, wherever you are in this crazy world. I am incredibly thankful you spent part of your precious life reading something I penned.
Forever grateful,
shewroteaworld
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fic#spencer reid one shot
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
i bet you think about me !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is just them shading each other on instagram and co parenting their cat.
or
for when you know they're thinking about you. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // lando norris x fem!reader
sequel - i'll be loving you for quite some time ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language. both the reader and lando are petty bitches having a petty virtual stand-off.
author's note - hello!!!!! so sorry for the wait, i've been busy with stuff :/// i really hope u like this <3 thank u so much for reading!!! i love u <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/35e5bc70eb9545a33088eab67f7890f4/e3ee4ab7c827a524-f0/s540x810/0dfaef9390a2e56c38b8366eaee1e76ec75c3371.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e9cb426b0c0e38279265619f9d29facf/e3ee4ab7c827a524-8a/s540x810/eb97bb5dba711e0abf7be004888d15f526e83124.jpg)
liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, lewishamilton and 786,416 others
landonorris happier than ever.
8,927 comments
username THE CAPTION
username oh.
username no bc why did this hurt me.
username my heart can't take it what the fuck
danielricciardo unnecessary caption but alright.
-> landonorris i did not lie though???
username WHY IS THIS HAPPENING
username i haven't recovered from their breakup and now ur telling me that they ended on bad terms??????
-> username no they're fine!!!!!!! this is just lando being silly!!!!!!!!!!!!!
username no bc why THE FUCK is lando out here looking all fine while my girl y/n was seen crying in front of her mom yesterday
-> username weren't there rumours that they broke up bc y/n was committed to this relationship more than lando was????
-> username oh what the fuck
username "happier than ever" like we didn't see u and y/n all those years with eachother
maxverstappen1 👍
*liked by landonorris*
username nah bc if i was y/n i would be so hurt by this what the fuck.
-> username imagine going through a breakup after being together for more than 2 years and they post THIS after a WEEK like
lilymhe fake ass bitch
*this comment has been deleted*
username god i love lily defending her wifey
username LANDO HOW AM U SUPPOSED TO DEFEND U LIKE THIS
username no bc my heart's aching for y/n she doesn't deserve this
charles_leclerc need to talk to you real quick.
-> carlossainz55 just a friendly chat!
-> username oh they're maaaaaaad
username im a child of divorce what the fuck
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8d17e779567c71d7f0cc512c71306b09/e3ee4ab7c827a524-f8/s540x810/b86500276ba7d6eb5026304ebfa663cbf528d3b7.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5e3915cf79ea2458c45b19726e437d74/e3ee4ab7c827a524-b7/s540x810/ef08224dbf6641a5b32ac226bab25245558e2afb.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6ff227d741206b47f7898a4c39050999/e3ee4ab7c827a524-6f/s540x810/bb987fac57881b5bf770aa136330d44ac16375a1.jpg)
yourusername i’ll think of something else your initial can stand for
*this post is not available*
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2211a778ebed3ceea1185de46ca6af12/e3ee4ab7c827a524-c6/s540x810/aac0869a58fb365748b88ce0fe9538b22bc16d84.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a079c943ab235c68b6d1ee5423510f64/e3ee4ab7c827a524-71/s540x810/7b65e6ab959f849743a6f02e8e930a3cdc99d61b.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cc01d390be6a2411638700d505dc5d2f/e3ee4ab7c827a524-5b/s540x810/9b358fcd22b24df744bdf8571ffd10fccef513e7.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/971b45c6e815da55e051d0f03245a9fb/e3ee4ab7c827a524-41/s540x810/346210a08db29e1a0cef403fd5c9f4f909cc14fb.jpg)
liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, danielricciardo and 789,979 others
yourusername blocking him isn't enough when i want to throw tomatoes at his head like he's a medieval criminal
8,926 comments
username PLEASE
username SOMEONE TELL ME THEY SAW Y/N'S LAST POST
-> username NO BC WHEN U TELL U MY HEART BROKE
-> username "i’ll think of something else your initial can stand for" do u want me to cry.
username bet lando feels like an asshole after seeing that post 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
-> username imagine fumbling so hard 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
lilymhe replace those tomatoes with concrete blocks and we're good!
-> yourusername alright slow down
-> username HELP
username y/n liking all the comments roasting lando but blocking all the ones who are hating on him is actually so personal to me
-> username like girl hates him but only she's allowed to do it
-> username my parents!!!!!!!!! divorced but parents nonetheless!!!!!!!!!
charles_leclerc i can arrange the tomatoes
-> carlossainz55 i can lock him in a room for you to throw tomatoes at him
-> danielricciardo i can stand by and record the whole thing for you to look back on and laugh
-> yourusername i adore each one of you wtf ☹️☹️☹️
username that prev caption hits hard knowing that lando got her a necklace with his initial 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username THE LYRICS TOOK ME OUT OMG
username imagine breaking up with ur bf and seeing that post he posted after you posted a heartbreaking yet wistful post abt him like
-> username ngl that's gonna be my last straw
francisca.cgomes asking pierre to show it to him brb
-> yourusername LMFAOOO PLEASE
username this is so chaotic i CANNOT
username mother is mothering so hard after her breakup
-> username she broke free of the shackles 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
*liked by yourusername*
username babe it's okay me and our kids forgive u just come home ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
maxverstappen1 sending this to him
-> yourusername do it no balls
-> username pls she's so unserious i love her 😭😭😭
*liked by yourusername*
username i KNOW he looked at this post and cried
*liked by yourusername*
username me when they still post abt eachother but indirectly and with shady undertones 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😘😘😘😘😘😘😘
username i will get over a lot of things but i will never get over y/n and lando breaking up
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/db57316052bb80bb5cf7686d8a799d99/e3ee4ab7c827a524-99/s540x810/224af094f00e2c9f804f5d75c9dd7a1a0a01c3e9.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6dc0547ce423f751bf65657fbe28a109/e3ee4ab7c827a524-67/s540x810/cba9ad050b5ac8cc9d8db46070ed61bb0a2dbe27.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/da6be2c8346ee3b99f005cb79bdb620f/e3ee4ab7c827a524-89/s540x810/1d248b457a3e7fd6277bad2c219020764d73568f.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a7be89ca0f53f454ea5a7b8aeb91e434/e3ee4ab7c827a524-a7/s540x810/37b45bb4fb14968904ccfb1971d4af878577ac3b.jpg)
liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 758,989 others
landonorris pov: you're better now 🤍
7,926 comments
username pov ur a liar.
username lando it's okay honey u don't have to lie
username he said this yk like a liar
maxverstappen1 not me watching you wipe your tears right now
-> landonorris LEAVE ME ALONE
username the way i've been crying since i found out and it's not even my relationship like DAMN.
username lando how does it feel to fumble a bad bitch like y/n 🎤🎤🎤
username no bc i KNOW the drivers reallllllllly gave it to lando after they found out about the breakup
username IS THAT Y/N'S CAT
-> username they're co parenting caz 💀💀💀
-> username it's weekend with dad ig 😭😭😭
danielricciardo pov: you're a liar ❤️
-> landonorris choke ❤️
username max and daniel really calling him out on his bullshit 💀💀💀
-> username as they should
username the way i fell to the floor when the articles first came out abt their breakup
username so y/n WAS committed to this relationship more than he was
username me having a nice day and suddenly remembering the fact that lando once said that y/n was everything he had spent his life looking for and everything he thought he'd never find
-> username I WAS HAVING A NICE WHY DO U DO THIS TO ME
username "pov: you found your soulmate" hahahahahaha!!!! im fine!!!! totally not going crazy over this!!!!!
-> username do u get deja vu
carlossainz55 lies.
-> landonorris blocked.
username need them back together again for mental stability i fear
username they're actually very happy together my delusions told me!!!!!!!
username no way they're just over like that when we could SEE how much they loved eachother like
-> username the articles being all "they had different priorities" NO MF THEY KEPT SAYING HOW THEY COULDN'T WAIT FOR THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER
-> username to the person who wrote those articles, drop the addy i just wanna talk :)
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fb6602225c199a5fff91abf016d74966/e3ee4ab7c827a524-5a/s540x810/9a283442e98848b77b5ca150317b63c7efb94a71.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a45b4ff3e47b978e085200dbb4b4e1a0/e3ee4ab7c827a524-5e/s540x810/498afb629e4940dcbbe58d5259ae57c2c2549878.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/991c386c825e8747f6ac0f886681b59c/e3ee4ab7c827a524-80/s540x810/5192433911224064dffb1c23aafae18693e3fe2a.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b5b31a2a63b82ff2ddc5c023ccf9cde0/e3ee4ab7c827a524-34/s540x810/3bab66bd86476235d4499252917b7be27ffcf991.jpg)
liked by lewishamilton, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe and 779,189 others
yourusername when u know he's gonna think u every time he hears a taylor swift song and it'll make him want to CRY
7,532 comments
username the ultimate revenge
username the way i lit up whenever i see one of them posted but it's literally just them shading eachother like I CANNOT.
username LMFAOOOOO
carmenmmundt he'll listen to lover and it'll make him want to cry
-> georgerussell63 playing that the next time he walks in a room
-> yourusername thank u for ur service carmen's bf
username the way this whole thing is like a tennis match 💀💀💀
username ngl this is so entertaining
username couple weeks since they broke up and this is how their post breakup era is going
-> username when they're still so 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼
username they're just being silly!!!!!!!! just a prank y'all!!!!!!!! silly y/n and lando!!!!!!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
danielricciardo can confirm that exile was playing when i walked into his driver's room
-> yourusername HELP OMG
-> username not exile LMFAOO
username why are u so pretty
username post break up glow be hitting different ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
*liked by yourusername*
username women become 1000000x more beautiful everytime a m*n disappoints them
*liked by yourusername*
lilymhe asking alex to make all the playlists just taylor swift babe we're destroying his peace
-> yourusername OKAY SLOW DOWN FOR A MIN
username y/n telling her fans to be kind and lando straight up to ignoring everything does tell u a lot abt them tbh but some people are not ready for that conversation yet
-> username the way y/n and him were FINE after their breakup until he posted with that caption likeeeee
-> username nah bc what if.............HE WAS THE PROBLEM
-> username men need to go back to war
lewishamilton can't wait to see you next week!! roscoe misses his favourite dogsitter!!
-> yourusername missing my buddy so much 🤍🤍🤍 see you both next week!!!!!!!
username the entire grid adores her i can TELL
username this is what he deserves
username no bc i know im supposed to sad that they broke up but them posting abt each other indirectly while having the other person blocked is so hilarious
username my y/nlando heart 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username the grid still being close to y/n is so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8381baa779618215407195efa007db5c/e3ee4ab7c827a524-c6/s540x810/50539a511ace4ada229c4d11faff659c03eaefa0.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1be34b7f1c6dec3202e0e3d4ea1b531a/e3ee4ab7c827a524-80/s540x810/92ba31e5eb6b2fe7266d5f4660476d0beab5c358.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/796c5bcfb6cddf9ce241177c61431df3/e3ee4ab7c827a524-9e/s540x810/bfa632f855439066a13d839f4264d538ee1681fb.jpg)
liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 799,186 others
landonorris how i feel every time i hear a taylor swift song and my mind goes straight to her
7,931 comments
username NOT HIM USING HIMSELF AS MEMES
username so who's gonna tell him.
username people who follow both of them 💀💀💀💀💀
username lando...babe...
username no bc they DO shade eachother and roast eachother since they broke up but the fact that y/n tells all the ppl hating on lando to "shut the fuck up and get a fucking life" and lando straight up blocks them is so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username IT'S WHAT SHE WANTS
danielricciardo chuckles knowingly
-> landonorris WHAT DO YOU KNOW
-> danielricciardo NOTHING
-> landonorris WHAT
-> danielricciardo NOTHING OH MY GOD
username smirks
username good.
username yes cry abt it x
username the way "the 1" is literally them LIKE
-> username "it would've been fun if you could've been the one" 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
-> username CAN U HEAR ME CRYING
charles_leclerc this is interesting
-> landonorris ?
username lando being confused is sending me 😭😭😭😭😭😭
username y/n fr manifested this 💀💀💀
username IM GIGGLING THIS IS HILARIOUS
username someone send this to y/n
*liked by danielricciardo*
maxverstappen1 we get what you mean but please stop playing the 1
-> landonorris none can do sorry
username NOT LANDO PLAYING THE 1
username im so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username y/n is chuckling rn i can feel it
lilymhe this is interesting!
-> landonorris WHAT IS
username OH MY GOD
username them shading eachother while having the other person blocked is top tier comedy i cant
username the next race is gonna be so interesting I can't wait 🗣️🗣️🗣️
username PLEASE OMG
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7bd6b97881d2319c667dfe399268efe1/e3ee4ab7c827a524-3a/s540x810/93eb536294b8fc74a6c8043fc3e6894545aa8e28.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/818619b4c0fc4186b0beacb24f9d2a94/e3ee4ab7c827a524-f2/s540x810/24f775060815a79f7a32079e9735da9032d1b7e3.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ffb29482025a7e6721a46c4f134828e5/e3ee4ab7c827a524-b4/s540x810/44b636faa604926a9cf28f11569032dd308fb6aa.jpg)
liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 1,829,851 others
yourusername i bet you think about me
8,467 comments
username MOTHER
username ATE
username HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD
username step on me please.
username i KNOW he looked at this post and cried
lewishamilton as pierre taught me, slayed the house down with boots or whatever
-> yourusername LEWIS OH MY GOD
-> yourusername but thank u that means sm to me 💌
username SHE'S SO SVANAKDJDMKSJSJ
username iconic.
username taylor swift always right !!!!!!!!!!
carmenmmundt pretty pretty
-> yourusername yeah you you
username my bi awakening
-> username that's so real actually
username THIS IS PERFECT
username someone thank daniel for showing lando's post to y/n so that we could get THIS
*liked by danielricciardo*
username WOMEN
lilymhe marry me rn idc i loveeee u ur so pretty ahahahaha pls.
-> yourusername babeeeeee i love u sm we're absolutely getting married idc abt ur bf we're eloping
-> alex_albon it's not even noon yet give me a break
username carmen, lily, kika and y/n ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username YEAH I BET U THINK ABOUT ME
username he DOES think about u
username no bc if i was lando i would be in my knees screaming crying throwing up for her to take me back
-> username real like how will u explain to people that u ended up fumbling a bad bitch
francisca.cgomes GORGEOUS
-> yourusername I LOVE YOU
username "i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of u"
-> username DIDN'T SHE POST THAT WHEN SHE ANNOUNCED THEIR RELATIONSHIP
-> username lord i am not strong enough for this.
username kinda missing them together ://
-> username i miss lando panicking in the comments section everytime y/n posted like homeboy was down BAD
-> username frrrr like he was down SO bad it was almost embarassing
username I JUST GASPED OUT LOUD HOLY FUCK
charles_leclerc can confirm
*liked by yourusername*
username I NEED LANDO'S REACTION TO THIS OMG
username both of their pr personnel are having a field day with this
-> username i would not want to be either of them today 💀💀💀
username exes beefing is so entertaining i swear im here for this petty bitch fight
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#lando norris imagines#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris insta au#lando norris blurb#lando norris angst#lando norris au
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Hiya tumblr! Let's have a talk about bioessentialist enbyphobia, transmisogyny, and how to make sure transfeminine people, enby or not, feel completely unsafe and unwelcome at your events. First take a look at this group description, and then lets get into it.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/59fef13e247f8f1c805c2fac07181154/f359b48b38ca5c14-f2/s540x810/243fa8b140addcef11d2202d431199583494c9a5.jpg)
First some context. Those of you who know me know about the kinds of clubs I go to. This screenshot was taken from a local event page, and I've blocked out their name because in the months since this event was hosted the group has updated their description to be more inclusive.
Seeing that description, I avoided going to events hosted by that group.
"But Kat, why? You're a woman and it says women are allowed!"
It also implicitly lumps all nonbinary people who were assigned male at birth with men and calls them males.
So why is this a problem for me? Well, if this group sees all AMAB nonbinary people as "male" then it says a lot of things about the ways the see trans women.
Many, and I would venture to assume most, trans women know well the feeling of our womanhood treated as conditional, subject to immediate revocation without warning.
Spaces that are "Women and AFAB exclusive" are often rife with this, and often lead to a lot of really gross and abusive power dynamics where transfems get treated as second class to anyone who was assigned female at birth.
(Side note: Gretchen Felker-Martin did, I believe, a masterful job of portraying this sort of dynamic in her book Manhunt)
If you are a trans woman in one of these spaces, you quickly learn that you are on the thinnest of ice.
Laugh a little too loud? You're male.
Sit or stand a little too close? You're threatening.
Smile at the wrong person? You're making other people uncomfortable.
Transfems, in these spaces, quickly learn that standing up for ourselves in the face of flagrant abuse is verboten, and will be met with swift and decisive punishment and exile.
I personally don't like the word "theyfab" and don't use it. I'm writing this thread to hopefully help people better understand the social dynamics that were being addressed when that term was coined.
It was coined because transfems are forced to navigate a community of things like "afab only" apartment rentals.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f373c71ddc56ae7a51da4d3d3a70a4bb/f359b48b38ca5c14-25/s500x750/d767c1983177969c311c71c274f0f2f6be8169dc.jpg)
It was coined because transfems constantly have to listen to other trans people implicitly describe us as disgusting, hideous freaks.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/040397f3ab716a6c43154423ba77f29c/f359b48b38ca5c14-ae/s540x810/b9fc2943633b41717843c9a9886edeb7376e9cbe.jpg)
In short and in closing: consider that the reason why the term "theyfab" exists and "theymab" really doesn't probably lies somewhere in the fact that the sort of person who would call someone a "theymab" doesn't need to, because they *already* just call AMAB trans people "male".
#transmisogyny#disk horse#seriously though the afab only rental with the trans flag in the pictures#like you can just say you hate trans women its okay lots of other bigots agree with you and will cheer you on#enbyphobia#bioessentialism
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
kissing you
cw: very suggestive themes, slight yan content with wanderer, self indulgent, overall fluff, afab!reader in some parts (overall, gn! terms used, reader wears make up/dress), terrible flirting. minors dni, mdni. user has a vision.
characters: kaeya, diluc, wanderer, arlecchino, al-haitham
kaeya has been staring at your lips for awhile now - as you talk about something that you ran into while out doing some sort of investigation. it's starting to make you nervous, the way he remains silent, bent down, his eye on your lips and his head tilted to the side.
"captain? are you listening to me? this this hilichurl camp set up nearby and -"
"yes, yes." kaeya says with a wave of his hand. "i'll have some of my people get on it." he pauses now, leaning in closer. you can smell his cologne. "say, did you get a new shade of lipstick?"
"i-uh, yes?"
"hmm." he gently cups your chin with his fingers, tilting his head to the side as he gently kisses you. "aw, it's not flavored this time."
all you can do is stutter before he bends in to kiss you again.
the fall night is warm, you're warm as you wrap your arms around his as the pair of you exit the manor for the night - the party goers dispersing and it's time for you to head home as well. the abundance of wealth diluc has always surprises you, on top of all his connections. he tells you about something, maybe it's another compliment in the list of all the creative ways he tells you how much he loves you, you're not sure but you're tired.
"shall i accompany you home tonight, my love?" diluc asks as he helps you into your carriage. "you are certainly more than welcome to also stay the night."
"ah, but we certainly cannot have rumors flying around just yet." you say with a tired giggle. playing hard to get is one of your favorite things to do - he seems to enjoy the chase some, at least.
"then," he gently takes your hand into his gloved one, those red eyes that always look into your soul and beyond, look into your own, as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand. "get home safe, okay? if you encounter any trouble, do not hesitate to return."
you smile, taking your hand back and bend down (silently delighting into the new height advantage the carriage gives you) and kiss him on the cheek.
"have a lovely night, diluc." yet it takes one more kiss to pull you out of the carriage and back into his manor.
he is irritated, agitated more like, with his pacing back and forth. you sigh and watch him, legs crossed and elbows resting on your thighs. you're getting dizzy at this point, but his frustration is honestly really funny.
all that had to happen was someone complimenting you today and he loses his mind. the entire day, he's been sulking and pouting and grumbling.
"hat guy," you call to him, gently. "are you okay?"
he stops in his tracks, staring dead in your eyes. "no," he grumbles. "i am not." you huff a laugh and shake your head. it's like you blink and he's blocking your view of well - the rest of the living room. you're not exactly sure what's happening, but your shirt is being pulled down and his lips are pressing against the tender skin at the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.
and he bites. you yelp a bit, but he doesn't pull away until there is a bright red mark there.
"you're mine, don't forget that."
"you never let me forget." you grumble as he pushes you down, his teeth sinking into more of your neck.
you are wholly naked after getting out of the bath, and sitting between arlecchino's legs, on her bed, as she brushes your hair. she admires every inch of you, on a daily basis. whenever you ask about her doing your hair, she simply tells you that she enjoys it and should she not pamper her loved one? so you always drop the subject and lean into this momentary peace in her chaotic life. the candle flickers some, its flame casting a gentle glow in the bedroom.
a clawed hand rests on your thigh and you peek at the full length mirror, she's set the brush down.
warmth blossoms through you as she kisses the back of your neck, trailing kisses down along your spine until she reaches midback. after a moment, she's tugging at your hair, forcing you to lean your head back as she kisses you on the lips.
"you're very beautiful." she murmurs.
"you tell me that often." you tell her with a little giggle. she hums softly.
"not often enough." she declares, her hand reaching for the brush again. "i believe i should praise you more. you are a good girl, after all." your face reddens at that and she looks even more pleased. another kiss is pressed to the side of your neck before she resumes her previous task.
you talk too much, al-haitham has told you many times - you like to visit him in his office at lunch every day, just to ramble on and on. you like to think he's listening, but with his eyes always glued on his book, you're never sure. but that never stops you (nor does it ever stop kaveh, the poor man sometimes stresses himself out over his roommates indifference). oh, you do this to annoy him most of the time, but lately, it's just scheduled and expected.
"and can you believe-"
your words are cut off when his lips meet yours, your eyes widen when he pulls away. you're stunned as you sit down on the comfortable couch, trying to comprehend what just happened.
"do you hear that?" he asks you after a moment.
"no. what should i be hearing?"
"the sound of sweet silence." al-haitham finally answers, and you finally look at him, while his eyes are glued to the book, he has a smug look to his face. oh this asshole.
#kaeya x you#kaeya x y/n#kaeya x reader#diluc x you#diluc x y/n#diluc x reader#wanderer x y/n#wanderer x you#wanderer x reader#arlecchino x y/n#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino x you#arlecchino x female reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x y/n#genshin x y/n#genshin x you#genshin x reader#diluc.txt#kaeya.txt#wanderer.txt#arlecchino.txt#alhaitham.txt#ordo.txt
956 notes
·
View notes