#it feels wrong to offer myself gentleness because I truly don’t think I deserve it

[songbirdsaint]

can’t sleep

[vintage-love-nasha]

I wish people would just stop being so nonchalant and insensitive towards me. I’m a ride or die person and it’s really hard to explain when the answer is always “trying but can’t seem to be of much help”.

And they’ll never understand my situation because they’ve never been in it. There was always some sort of stability for them, so they assume perhaps I can’t handle crisis which causes the “instability”, but I often wonder if they were in a back to back situation as such; what will they even do? Can they handle it? Will they have the willpower or strength to even endure?

It’s so unfair how when the boat keeps sinking for you- you’re labelled as someone reckless and mindless . Whereas you as a person have only tried to level up in life and made constant efforts which went down the drain. All the “wanting to level up” turned into a life long struggle.

I don’t like being in a pity party where people just keep “wishing things will work out for me” or sigh at my fate. When they have the option to be action driven about it and save my boat, but they choose to watch it slowly sink , while they are sitting in their own boats enjoying the ride .

I am a super action driven person. I don’t make empty promises , I work hard where I feel I should . I don’t just throw words around. And I dislike being a pity party , especially when it comes from people who are close to my heart .

It’s really hard to expect effort from people who just throw words thinking it will improve your life . And then they label you as someone bitter . Yeah try being in a decade old struggle I am sure the last thing you’ll get out of it is peace.

I am drowning in my boat , it is drowning me in misery. I want to steer my boat in different waters . Where the peace is mine , where the water is mine , where surrounding, gentle, driven and successful boaters lift me up, provide a new vision and perspective and row with me, not against the tides.

This is an ongoing battle , a battle which caused a huge rift in my heart and mind. It has never given me the peace I truly deserve. It has sucked all kindness from my soul and squeezed me dry.

I won’t say that I wish things will get easier for me, I’m past that statement. But I will say the option I have for myself right now, is just to keep moving forward and slowly cut off from these so called ��empathetic boaters who are watching you sink”.

It’s just like how the other day I was at the bus stop, and a poor old man fell flat on his face while running , trying to catch his bus. He hit his face against the metal benches and was bleeding all over- while people just … watched? Watched him bleed? Watched him feeling miserable? I am (not) sorry but I just cannot stand there and watch someone , who is actually helpless , dying in pain and not do anything about it. I went over to help, offered him some tissues to press against his bleeding cheeks- while people simply stared? I am NOT that person, never was and never will be but my entire bus ride home I just kept thinking how people find some sort of sadistic pleasure in someone else’s struggle. And let’s say I am wrong, let’s assume they don’t think in this manner, but then, what about when they say 1000 times “I always help someone in need” but when a situation arises (in real time) they do absolutely nothing about it?

It’s all within you- do you want to do by what actually should be done , with your actions or you wish to appease someone with words? Because I could have told that bleeding old man “you’ll be ok” but what would that change the fact he was in pain ? No.

To expect others to do right by you, is the worst expectation to have . And unfortunately , people who are not action driven will NEVER be able to conceptualise this in their head.

Majority of the world is just scared of doing what should be done . It’s easier to just talk because talk is cheap, there are zero consequences . The real consequences come from actions, because they turn into something else. And nobody wants to take responsibility. It’s just that.

X

The Lone Pine by Sandara Tang

[empressofthesunwriter]

Maiden of the Moon

What if Kokushibo had a pupil, whom he taught the original Moon Breathing before he deserted the Demon Slayer Corps?

Mochizuki Yua was born only for these reasons: To become a Hashira and make her family a respected one in the Demon Slayer Corps.

But if you only live for the expectations of others, who are YOU truly?

What will it take to find yourself?

A long, hard journey awaits.

If you like my story please leave a comment, a kudos, a like, a vote or a reblog.

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Chapter 4: Under the Wistaria Crest

The Wistaria House belonged to an old kind lady named Hisa, who Zenitsu was scared of, no really, and Inosuke just completely doesn’t have any manners in regards to elders.

At least Tanjiro was a decent human being and tried to rile the other males in.

Hisa had shown them the room they would be staying in and then the bathrooms.

Signing tired, Yua leaned her head on the bathtub of the Wisteria House, trying to enjoy the warm bath and forget the stress of the day.

It was difficult since she heard from the other side, where the men's bathroom was, how Inosuke hollered and splashed around. Zenitsu’s whining and every gentle Tanjiro begging them not to destroy the room.

An angry mark appeared on her head and she hit the wall beside her hard.

“WILL YOU THREE BABIES STOP AND JUST TAKE A FUCKING BATH!”, she screamed loud enough to be heard. “OR DO I NEED TO GET OVER THERE TO BATHE YOU MYSELF!”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because Zenitsu actually purred: “Aww, Yua-Senpai, I would feel honoured to be in your naked presence and get bathed by you.”

Before she could say anything, she heard how someone hit Zenitsu hard on the head so that he fell out of the bathtub.

“You don’t talk to a lady that way Zenitsu, shame on you! I’m terribly sorry Yua-Senpai.”

“Kamado, did you hit Agatsuma?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Tanjiro answered that it was no problem at all, anybody ignoring Zenitsu’s screams of mistreatment.

After that little incident, they all finished their bath and put on the kimonos Hisa had prepared for them.

Zenitsu had formally heart eyes seeing Yua in the form-fitting kimono and her long midnight blue hair in a side braid. She just flicked his forehead and told him coldly: “Not even in your dreams!”

And then made her way to their room.

Yua heard how Zenitsu whined, while Tanjiro told him he deserved it for being so shameless and Inosuke was just confused about what that all was about.

When she opened the door Hisa was already sitting in seiza in the room with four plates with food prepared for them.

“And here is your meal.”, said the old lady gently.

The only girl in the group couldn’t even thank her as Zenitsu shouted: “She has to be a monster, Tanjiro! That old lady’s a monster! She’s so quick, it’s eerie! She’s a monster! A monster hag –“

For that, he got two smacks on the head from Tanjiro and Yua. Yua and Tanjiro looked into each other's eyes as Zenitsu bowed down holding his hurting head.

“Great minds think alike, isn’t it so Kamado-San?”

She gave him a little smirk, which in turn made Tanjiro gently blush. He only nodded.

Yeah, Yua decided she liked Tanjiro the best of the three boys.

Finally, the quartet sat down for dinner and Inosuke ate…well like a pig. Fitting for someone who owned a boar mask and acted like one.

He really was more animal than man. Yua could just stare at him in bizarre fascination.

Zenitsu told Inosuke that he should use his chopstick, but got ignored as the wild boy stole more food from Tanjiro’s plate.

He grinned at the red-haired boy in a cheeky way.

Inosuke definitely wanted to get a rise out of Tanjiro suspects Yua, sadly for him Tanjiro is too nice to even think something like that and even offers him more of his food.

That Inosuke is more than pissed off is an understatement.

When they finished dinner, Hisa showed them their room for sleep.

Again Zenitsu screams she is a monster and again Tanjiro and Yua hit him over the head.

When will the blond learn?

Meanwhile, Inosuke dives into his chosen futon.

“First come, first served! I’m taking this one!”, proclaims the wild boy, petting the futon.

“That’s fine. Sleep wherever you want.”, tells Tanjiro with a smile. Yua doesn’t need her Aura Sensing to see that it’s pissing off Inosuke.

Tanjiro turns to Zenitsu asking him where he would like to sleep. Before he can answer, Inosuke smacks his pillow against the blond’s face.

Having enough Yua grips Inosuke by the ear, which makes him actually squeal.

“Boarhead, can you for one second not make trouble?!”

“Let go of me, woman! Or face my wrath!”

“Pssh, I’m a higher Rank than you, when I’m done with you, you will not even know anymore where it is up and down!”

“Lucky Bastard.”

“Zenitsu…what is that supposed to mean?”

“Aww, Tanjiro, you are so pure like a maiden.”

Before the whole situation can escalate even more, Hisa returns with a doctor in tow. Of course, Yua gets a checkup first and alone, then it’s the boys' turn.

Now they all lay in their futons staring up at the ceiling.

Zenitsu is the first who breaks the silence: “Who would’ve guessed that all four of us had broken ribs?”

Yua got one broken as she guessed, Zenitsu two, Tanjiro three, and last Inosuke with four. It’s also the order they are sleeping side by side.

The midnight blue-haired girl still wonders how Zenitsu manages to snatch the futon beside her. She would rather sleep beside Inosuke, than the blond womanizer.

Good thing, that she always sleeps with her Katana beside her.

“This knot hurts more than my ribs.”, deadpans Inosuke, referring to the big bump Tanjiro’s headbutt had caused.

“Sorry.”, apologized to the red-haired boy.

“Hey, you’d better apologize. It really hurts, you know. Getting pounded to a pulp like that.”, tells Zenitsu Inosuke. “Say you’re sorry.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Say you’re sorry!”

“I’ll pass!”

“Just say you’re sorry!”, yell Yua and Tanjiro together.

Goddammit, the two are worse than when Kaito and Hikari have their little spats!

“If you’re gonna be like that, we’re not eating with you anymore.”, threatens the blond-haired boy.

Not that it’s really threatening to Inosuke since he doesn’t understand what’s so bad about it. Even if Zenitsu explains how meals always taste better with company and Tanjiro even agrees, the wild boy is still lost. He asks them if they hurt their head.

That’s when Hisa calls out for them, asking if they need anything, which makes Zenitsu again freak out and again Tanjiro and Yua call him out.

When Yua is back home she will give Kaito and Hikari a lot of kisses. These two aren’t as nearly as exhausting as Zenitsu and Inosuke.

Tanjiro was all right.

After all is calm again it seems like it’s time for some bonding, since Tanjiro asks Inosuke why he joined the Demon Slayer Corps. Not gonna lie, Yua was curious too.

Apparently, a Demon Slayer stumbled upon Inosuke’s Mountain and the wild boy took his sword. Then he heard about the Final Selection and how demons exist and just joined.

Wow, for Inosuke it was all a big competition to see who was the strongest. Now You understood his wild and chaotic Aura too.

“Yua-Senpai.”, Tanjiro turned to her. After failing in bonding with Inosuke about the fact that they both had lived on a mountain and Inosuke made clear since he has no family at all he was only a Demon Slayer for the thrill, the red-haired boy seemed to try to find common ground with her. “Why are you in the Demon Slayer Corps?”

“It shows how new you all are in the Corps if my surname means nothing to you.”, she simply states.

“Whaddya mean by that?”, asks Inosuke.

“My family, the Mochizuki’s, has since the Feudal Era been a part of the Demon Slayer Corps.”

“That long, wow!”, gasp Zenitsu. “How did your family survive this long?”

A little smirk comes over Yua’s lips. She would be lying if she wasn’t proud of her family line to survive till now.

“Our breathing style is the strongest in the Corps. Moon Breathing. I’m the current Master in it.”

“Moon Breathing?”, repeats Tanjiro in wonder.

“It’s just as old as our family. It is one of the hardest and most challenging Breathing Styles to learn. Only one or two manage to learn it in a generation. I’m a Demon Slayer because it’s my birthright and my duty to my family. I will become a Hashira and show anyone why the Mochizuki are the strongest Slayers that exist!”

After her declaration, it’s quiet for a few seconds, until Tanjiro asks what a Hashira is, Zenitsu and even Inosuke nodding along.

Yua makes a facepalm, newbies, but explains to them what the Hashira are.

That the boys are blown away is an understatement. Inosuke is already planning to fight one of them! Yua bets if he could Inosuke would even fist fight the Kami’s.

“So anyone in your family is a slayer?”, wants Tanjiro to know more. “But you are the only one who can currently use Moon Breathing right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. People who marry in our family are often normal civilians, so they aren’t Slayers, like my late mother. Then there is my uncle Hansuke, the husband of my aunt Chiyoko, who is a Demon Slayer. They both meet actually while hunting the same demon. It’s quite a story.”, Yua explains. “Besides that, my father, my uncle Keitaro, my aunt Chiyoko, my uncle Noritaka, my grandfather, and my late older cousin Taiga, my younger cousin Daku are all or were Demon Slayers, only my cousin Sayoko being a Kakushi. That’s like the medical and cleaning-up team after a heavy fight with a demon.”

“You have a big family, that’s nice.”, tells Tanjiro with such bittersweetness in his voice, that Yua looks at the boy.

He seems to be fighting tears…oh she knows that look. He lost beloved people.

The young woman wants to ask him whom he lost, yet it feels wrong to ask him this when he is so vulnerable.

In the pause, Zenitsu took the chance sitting up from the futon to ask something which has been on his mind all day: “Tanjiro, no one else is asking, so I’m gonna ask myself. Why are you travelling with a demon?”

Well, no time like the present. It really was time to get answers from Tanjiro, so Yua sat also up.

“I also know you have a demon with you. I could feel his Aura…yet it’s at the same time so different than all demon Aura’s I ever felt and saw.”

“Yua-Senpai and Zenitsu… you both knew about that and Zenitsu you still protected the box, huh? And you Yua-Senpai didn’t try to kill her.”, say’s Tanjiro softly, also sitting up. “You are great people, you know that? Thanks!”

That’s is too much for Zenitstu and he rolls around the futon, holding his pillow tight. “You really shouldn’t heap so much praise on me! Fufufufu! Yua-Senpai is more amazing!”

“Sweet talking will get you nowhere with me, Agatsuma.”, deadpans Yua simply, ignoring how the blond insists that it’s nothing like that, and making a little bow in Tanjiro's direction. “Your words honour me, Kamado-San.”

Tanjiro smiles so sweetly at them, that Yua feels how her heart stops for a moment. He is such a gentle and loving soul…it’s really an honour to hear these words and get this smile from him.

“I’ve got a keen sense of smell. I knew it from the start. How kind you are, Zenitsu… and how strong…How gentle and powerful you are Yua-Senpai…how admirable.”

“You are a gentle and kind soul Tanjiro, your Aura tells me as much. Don’t lose this, it’s rare to find such good in humanity.”, Yua advised him with a small smile.

Meanwhile, Zenitsu isn’t nearly as touched by Tanjiro’s words as Yua, since formally a dark cloud was around him.

“No, I’m not strong. Don’t give me that. I haven’t forgiven you for stopping me from bringing Shouichi along.”

Tanjiro is lost for words and Yua can just facepalm.

That’s when they hear how the demon in the box is pounding against its door.

Naturally, the blond boy freaks out, being sure his end is near. Not listing to Tanjiro, who tries to reassure him, nor to Yua who makes it clear that from the demon’s Aura, it’s not dangerous.

Zenitsu doesn’t care and was even ready to hide behind Inosuke. Just his luck the wild boy kicks him angrily away, directly in front of the box.

In fear, he scrambles away, till the demon comes out.

Yua has to blink a few times.

The demon is a pretty little girl with a bamboo muzzle. She has big beautiful pink eyes and an adorable face.

“Nezuko…”, calls her Tanjiro gently.

From the Aura colours the young woman sees now, it shows clearly deep family love.

So they are related.

An explanation why he couldn’t kill the little girl demon if she was family.

She is now standing up and formally grows before their eyes. Now she looks like fourteen years old if Yua had to guess.

The demon girl was a real beauty!

From Zenitsu comes a strange strangled scream, while Inosuke doesn’t give a fuck and just falls asleep.

As Tanjiro turns to Yua and Zenitsu to introduce Nezuko to them bolts of electricity come from Zenitsu's corner.

Yua herself takes her Katana standing up since Zenitsu Aura was going crazy. The boy was more than pissed off at Tanjiro.

“You… Just who do you think you are?!”, yells Zenitsu at the red-haired boy who is totally lost.”So you’ve been travelling with a girl this cute? With a girl this cute in tow, day after day, you’ve been travelling, and you’ve been on cloud nine the whole time, huh?”

“Zenitsu, it’s not like –”

“Agatsuma, calm down for a second-”

Both get ignored as Zenitsu screams: “Give me back all the blood I shed!! I… Listen, I… I didn’t give it my all just so you could spend time in la-la land, making out with a girl! That’s not why I got pummeled and kicked by that weird boar, right?!”

“Zenitsu, calm down! What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“He is thinking with his dick, Kamado-San, that’s the problem!”

“Demon Slayer Corps is not something you’d join for fun! Guys like you gotta be purged! Immediately! Come to think of it, there’s also the crime of thwarting my marriage and sending Shouichi home.”

With a stone-cold face, the blond unsheathes his Katana.

“Purged immediately! Don’t ever underestimate the Corps!!”

Zenitsu charges at Tanjiro. Good thing Yua saw that from a mile coming and get’s between them.

Her Katana and Zenitsu Katana smash together.

Before anyone can say or do something, with swiftness, Yua's upper hand Zenitsu takes his Katana from him.

“Agatsuma!”, she growls and looks quite scary with two Katana in her hands and a dark Aura around her. “The Demon Girl is Tanjiro's relative! I see their bond clearly through their Aura so stop thinking with your dick or I cut it off!”

Suddenly all the bravery he had vanished from Zenitsu and he shrieked scarred holding his precious dick. He heard loud and clearly from Yua that she was serious about cutting it off!

Tanjiro also smelled how close Yua was to emasculating Zenitsu and tried his best to calm everybody down.

Meanwhile, Nezuku just cutely title her head. She doesn’t know who this people are with her brother, but the young woman has pretty braided hair.

She likes it.

Next

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empressofthesunwriter

[gwaeddblaidd]

Feed the Wolf Chapter 7: Pride (Excerpt)

Our time together is pleasant. Unencumbered by the worries of the world, we sit and eat and talk at our leisure, simply enjoying each other’s company under the slowly setting sun. The threads of our conversation run deeper than before, returning to so many of the topics we discussed at the Weathervane and over text, diving ever further into each other’s tastes and opinions. Under any other circumstance, this sort of tranquil back and forth would be more than enough for me. I don’t speak to that many people in my day-to-day life, and I can’t deny that my talks with Enid are incredibly refreshing. With other people, I often have a hard time truly listening to them, at least for prolonged periods. It's not that I dislike other people inherently, but my brain just isn’t wired to sit idly by and listen to a wave of miscellaneous information. With Enid though, everything she says cements itself in my memories, every little fact about what she likes and doesn’t like, her favourite pastimes, foods, music – everything. Hearing her talk brings me joy, and seeing her take an interest in what I talk about ignites a passion within me like no other. To say that I’m happy is one hell of an understatement.

Under any other circumstance, these sweet moments would be more than I could ever possibly hope for. But, as it stands, I’m haunted all the while by the knowledge that if I want to get closer to Enid, I need to make the first move. In every quiet dip in the conversation, each and every time we spend a few minutes just watching the world go by in all of its beauty, a part of me is screaming that now is the time. But then all too soon the moment will pass and our conversation will resume – each time as wonderful as before, but robbing me of the opportunity to make that sorely needed confession. In my head, I write out so many ways of saying what I need to say, but never do they feel quite right. Loathe as I am to consider the possibility, maybe spontaneity is needed here.

Something possesses me to speak suddenly. “Look, I don’t know how to say this, but…” I swallow hard, begging the lump in my throat to recede. My heartbeat increases its pace, its rhythm like a drum deep in my ears.  “I like you. Like, I really like you. Shit, why is this so hard…?”

Enid seems surprisingly unfazed by my confession. She places a gentle hand on my arm. “Because it’s important.”

My eyes rise nervously to meet hers. Is that how it works? Do all important things have to be difficult? How is that fair? Who made those rules? Whoever they are, they’re a colossal asshole. Still, those eyes offer a quiet encouragement; a gentle, reassuring offer of support that assuages any lingering doubts I may have still had. As socially inept as I can sometimes be, I already know what Enid’s answer will be. The fear of rejection falls away, leaving me no excuses to hide behind. I just have to ask. Why does that have to be so damn difficult?

“These past couple weeks… I mean, it’s had its ups and downs, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt as calm as I have in my time spent with you. For the first time in years, I feel… happy.”

I need to pause, to give myself a moment to breathe. My breaths aren’t coming naturally to me as I speak right now, each one the result of concerted effort. I clench my hands into fists to suppress the tremor I can feel coming on.

“Maybe it’s too early to be thinking this way and honestly, you deserve better than me, but…” I sigh, a quick expelling of air to lead the words out. “If you would have me, I want to be more than friends. God knows I don’t deserve it, but that’s the truth.”

Enid’s pained expression brings forth a wave of anxiety. Did I somehow misread the situation? Was I wrong? How could I have been so confident that I was right? Me, who’s always second-guessing myself over the most trivial things. She shakes her head, but as she does a bittersweet smile comes to the surface.

“I don’t like it when you talk that way,” she says, a little quietly and not quite as assertively as usual. “You’re always putting yourself down, but…” She considers for a moment. “You don’t see what I see.”

“What do you mean?”

Her smile remains, but changes slightly. It’s almost a nostalgic smile, as if she’s drawing upon a memory. “You’re kind and sweet and caring. You act all tough sometimes, but it’s clear that’s not who you are. You’ve got a gentle soul, and you’re a good person.”

I don’t say anything to that. I can’t. The only things that come to mind are counter-examples to her assertions; ways of disproving all the nice things she’s saying about me. But I don’t want to dismiss her feelings like that. And perhaps even more than that, I want to believe that what she’s saying is true. It’s clear that she believes in her words, but I’m undeserving of such a flattering picture to be painted of me. My eyes leave hers and drop to the ground, unable to contest with her gaze any longer under the barrage of compliments.

“But more than anything,” she continues, “you’re clueless.”

Confused, I look up just in time to see her face close to mine. Her eyes are closed, softly and without any tension. She looks… serene. This close I can see the smallest of blemishes on her skin, all the tiny imperfections that prove she is a real, living person with a life of her own. I can see the hints of freckles on the bridge of her nose, mostly concealed with makeup but showing through just enough to be visible in such close proximity. I can see the parallel lines of slightly raised scar tissue on her cheek and above her left eye; tokens of her battle with Tyler. For a wolf, she healed up well, but those markings are certainly still there if you know to look for them. Her perfume, too, is so much more present up close. Notes of berries are most prominent, accompanied by a subtle undertone of vanilla. I’ve always preferred fruity scents to floral ones, and it would appear that Enid shares this preference. It’s a lovely smell, well picked out and befitting of her character. As she lingers so close to me, the aroma gradually builds up in my nostrils to the point that I can almost taste it. Wait…

Only as my attention turns to my sense of taste do I suddenly realise what’s happening. Her closeness isn’t without reason. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice her lips pressed against my mouth, the kiss so delicately and deliberately planted upon my lips. Her hand has left my arm, now cradling the side of my face and ever-so-gently pulling me in. Her touch feels electric now that I’m aware of it, both her hand and lips like jumper cables pressed against my skin, forming a circuit of agonising ecstasy. I tense up involuntarily, my jaw clenching in response to the unfamiliar experience. Enid notices instantly. Her eyes flash open and she pulls away, not too far but just enough to look into my eyes properly.

“Everything alright?” There’s no judgement, just genuine concern.

“Y-yeah,” I stammer, “I’m just not used to this kind of thing.” I feel my face flush with a searing heat. Thankfully the warm glow of the setting sun will go a long way towards hiding my embarrassment.

“Was that your first kiss?” she asks hesitantly, but amusedly.

“No!” I answer, far too eagerly but not untruthfully. My mind is thrown back to a summer many years ago, before Nevermore, before my father’s betrayal, but I snap myself back to reality before I can get too lost in memories. “No, it’s just been a long time. You caught me off guard, is all…”

---

Title: Feed the Wolf

Fandom: Wednesday

Rating: T

Chapters: 7 of 12

Links: AO3, FF.net

Summary: As the dust settles on the Hyde incident, Nevermore is slowly but surely returning to a calmer, safer state. But for those involved, the scars may take a while longer to fully heal. Gelert Davies, a half-werewolf student, has always kept himself out of trouble as best he could, but a chance encounter will test his resolve and force him to face parts of himself long abandoned.

Tags: Enid Sinclair, Wednesday Addams, Original Character(s), Enid Sinclair/Original Male Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Wolf Instincts, Loss of Control, Injury Recovery, Self-Hatred, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Courting Rituals, Werewolf Courting, Werewolf Culture, Eventual Romance, Family Issues, POV First Person

Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day! :)

[yoonpobs]

dilf (and love) | knj | m

pairing: kim namjoon x oc

genre: fluff, domestic fluff, smut, established relationship, marriage and kids lol

warnings: light dom/sub themes, pregnancy kink, penetrative sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), DILF JOON

words: 6, 702

summary: it's been too long since you and namjoon had time to yourselves

“God take that thing away from me!” You whine as you smother your face with your hands.

Jin pins you with a dry look as he catches a glimpse of ‘that thing’ who is looking up at you with big eyes and a toothless grin.

“That thing is your child …” Jin says blandly.

“That thing is ruining my sex life.” You narrow your eyes at Chanmi as she babbles some incoherent words with her ten-month-old vocabulary. You’d think as the daughter and apple of Kim Namjoon’s eye that she’d be able to read, write and speak sixteen languages at the age of one.

You still allow Chanmi to wrap her chubby fingers around your thinner ones and you can’t help but coo at your daughter. While she may have been the one thing that disrupted any intimate moment between you and Namjoon, you would fight anyone that would ever dare to mess with her. Your own husband included.

“Please, spare the details,” Jin mutters under his breath as he watches Chanmi fondly as she attempts to tug at your sleeve in hopes of getting your attention. You squeeze her cheeks before lifting her up in your arms and hold her close to your chest. You whine because she smells so … fresh. Just like a little bread baby that was all yours.

God, you loved her.

“My old sex life brought me this angel.” You grin up at your daughter who just smiles at you, unknowing of the context of your words.

“Can you stop using such vulgar words in front of your child?” Jin scolds you but doesn’t do anything much to take Chanmi out of your grasp.

You roll your eyes.

“She’s like 300 days old. She doesn’t even know how to shit at a decent hour let alone understand what sex is. Penis in vagina. Destroying pussy. A hole in one. Railing—”

Jin slaps his hand over your mouth to get you to stop talking as he glares at you.

“Why did my brother marry a heathen like you.” Jin seethes.

You shrug nonchalantly as you turn your head to see your dumbhead yet smart-ass husband that was attempting to glue back the shards of glass from the wine glass he broke earlier in hopes of you not realising.

“He needed to put his 148 IQ to good use and I’m the best investment his finance major ever got him.”

“The only good thing that came out of your marriage is this cutie.” Jin coos at his niece and you have half the mind to withdraw his Chanmi visiting card because whenever he was over all he did was berate you and your … unique ways of parenting.

But Jin would still say he cared for you as far as a brother-in-law would but with the added benefit of the fact that he was your best friend before he became your brother-in-law. You were an interesting character, to say the least, and the only reason you managed to befriend Jin was due to the fact that you didn’t know what boundaries meant and had invaded his personal space on the first day of lectures when you leaned over him to throw something at a know-it-all. Jin had been annoyed, but then an unlikely friendship bloomed out of the mutual distaste for ‘Howard from Accounting’.

He introduced you to Namjoon just because he thought that it was hilarious that you and his brother were polar opposites. Jin didn’t even expect the two of you to get along with each other let alone fall in love, but life had a funny way of saying ‘fuck you and your expectations’ to Jin when he least expected it.

The only thing that he regrets is the fact that now he had to listen to both you and his brother whine about your sex life, or lack thereof after the two of you became parents. Being a mother was hard because there was no manual to tell you what was right or wrong when it came to your baby but the experience itself. When you first fed Chanmi softened shrimp in her meals and caused an allergic reaction; you cried for hours straight because you felt like you should’ve just known.

Namjoon was a good partner and an even better father because he was understanding. The first few months postpartum he respected the fact that you weren’t ready to show your body to him because of the way it changed after giving birth to Chanmi, and he never told you that you were in your head for feeling that way. He validated all your feelings through all the rough edges that you gave him when you were going through your own things.

You finally felt comfortable to get naked around Namjoon at the five-month mark where your sex drive returned to that of when you were in your early twenties and just begun knowing how to truly enjoy sexual intimacies with a partner, but a five-month-old baby didn’t allow for much intimacy with your hot ass husband either.

It sucked because Namjoon had always been broad and very dad-like, and after he officially became a father to Chanmi you just felt like salivating over him every waking second you got because … God … Namjoon was a gift from the God’s themselves. Whenever you saw the way he handled Chanmi with absolute gentleness and care you felt like dropping to your knees and sucking the soul out of him. It didn’t help that he wore his glasses every night when he tucked her into bed and read her Shakespeare because it would ‘help with development’. You loved your husband but he was a little excessive.

“Oh God stop drooling over my brother!” Jin grimaces when he sees the bedroom eyes you were shooting Namjoon from where the two of you were with Chanmi.

You sigh dreamily and lean against your palm as you check out Namjoon’s ass.

“I can’t help that your brother and my husband has an ass like that.” You click your tongue.

Chanmi giggles again and it’s like a bell chiming at your favourite cafe when you cuddle her closer, feeling comfort in her scent. She smelt just like home and bubbles.

“How about I give you a sibling, huh?” You whisper to Chanmi who just opens her mouth to babble. Jin on the other hand facepalms himself and sighs.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m horny.” You shrug.

“Correction: you’re insufferable on a daily basis but absolutely horrifying to deal with when you’re horny.” He sneers.

“I just need to bed him and I’ll be fine.” You drawl, as your husband who spent the better half of your conversation fixing the wine glass grins to himself with his dimples when he finally placed the last piece of glass back into place. He was so meticulous and cute for the wrong reasons.

“Jesus, stop …” Jin groans.

“Jesus would definitely tell me to go get that dick because I deserve it.” You pat yourself on the back and wince slightly when you smell the telltale signs of Chanmi’s poop permeating the air.

“Say … would Yoongi mind having Chanmi over your place for the weekend?” Jin recognizes the devious expression you have on your face and knows that there’s no way out of it.

“I don’t have a choice do I?” Jin sighs.

You shake your head.

“Nope. Cause’ I texted Yoongi yesterday and said he totally wants to see his niece. The baby bag is all ready to go and it’s in the nursery.” You cock your thumb to the room down the hallway and Jin thinks to himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t have introduced you to his brother at all seven years back.

“It’s weird without her …” Namjoon frowns as the two of you stand in the nursery as if you were mourning the loss of your child. It felt a lot like it, though.

The two of you never spent more than a few hours away from Chanmi ever since she was born and it felt weird to not smell her vomit from the kitchen or hear her giggles as you cooked dinner. You missed Namjoon and the spark you had in the first years of your relationship but you also felt a little empty without Chanmi’s presence with you.

“I miss her.” You whine into Namjoon’s chest and he clutches you tightly as if to say that he mirrored your sentiment.

“Should we call them?” You look up at him with wide eyes and he smoothes the frown lines on your forehead and chuckles, offering a gentle kiss to your temples.

“We called fifteen minutes ago, remember?” He chides you gently.

You huff, “I just … it’s so quiet. Where are my baby babbles?” You pout.

Namjoon sighs and rubs his thumb comfortingly on your arm when you look around at the purple nursery with reminders of your daughter that wasn’t currently with you.

“Let’s enjoy what we have, okay love?” Namjoon offers, “I miss Chanmi too but I miss this too.”

You smile at him the way he first fell in love with you years ago and leans down to place a peck onto your lips.

“I miss having you all to myself.” He whispers against your lips and you shiver at the way his broadness is clouding all your senses.

“You always have me Joon.” You tell him in a tone as soft as his.

His chest rumbles when he laughs and you feel so warm in the comfort of your husband's arms and you felt it too. Besides the physical aspect of having sex with him, you missed holding him like this without a care in the world. Most of your cuddle sessions were left to the nights you slept next to each other in bed because the two of you were either exhausted with work or trying to care for Chanmi. It’s been a long time since you could just feel Namjoon’s presence with you.

“Besides … we can finally, you know …” He mumbles shyly into your hair and the devil horns that you hide most of the time reappear.

“What, Joon?” You smirk up at him, hands trailing slowly down his chest.

Your husband was so big that every room he walked into he basically commanded the attention of every single person that would come across him. That’s what happens when you’re six foot and broad like him. But you loved the fact that you were the only one that got to see the much softer side to him that he didn’t just show anyone. The fact that he was the CEO of his own company made his persona ever more intimidating than he actually was but you knew he was a huge softie on the inside.

The two of you were very different in many senses. From your personalities to the way you approached conflict. Namjoon was very diplomatic but you were anything but. He was truly the most empathetic and understanding person you’ve met in your entire life and you’ve seen a total of ten therapists in your teenage years. Namjoon was the balance that levelled your temper and uninhibited tendencies to always be the loudest person in every room. With every time you snarked at someone who pushed your buttons came Namjoon that placed a gentle hand on your back with a soft whisper of comfort.

In fact, most people thought the two of you would have never lasted. You heard those mean girls in college that made petty bets on the fact that you’d probably end up leaving him because you were too much of a bitch to deal with someone as kind as Namjoon. You remembered most of your fights being about your insecurities and how you always thought that Namjoon deserved better and with him telling you that you were the one for him.

Looking back, you laugh because the two of you were theoretically horrible for each other but exactly what the other needed. Namjoon needed someone free-spirited enough to manage his meticulous tendencies and you needed someone willing to see you for more than your erratic behaviour.

“What’s that pretty head of yours thinking about?” Namjoon hums when he realises you’re not paying attention to him anymore. He clasps your hands together to bring back your attention to him as you look up at him with eyes so full of love.

“Just reminiscing on the old days.” You tell him and he snorts.

“You say that as if we’re ancient.”

“You’re not fooling anyone. I heard your joints cracking when you bent down to pick up the strands of hair on the floor.” You tease.

“And who’s fault is it that I’m constantly bending over to pick up strands of hair because she sheds like a cat?” He retorts playfully.

“We’re both old.” You pout, playing with his fingers and admiring the glimmer of his wedding ring. You can’t believe you bagged a man like Namjoon.

“I still got it, though.” He adds thoughtfully and you raise an eye at his comment.

“Got what?”

“My game.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you burst out laughing because it was so on-brand for Namjoon to make a comment like that but blush when you got a little more touchy-feely with him when he least expected it.

“How about you show me then?” You whisper as you turn around to press yourself against his chest, ensuring that your cleavage was on full show to his line of vision when he looks down at you.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your tits after the pregnancy?” He tells you breathily and you snort.

“So you didn’t like my tits before I gave birth to your child?”

He rolls his eyes and reaches his hands below your thighs to lift you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The way he could effortlessly carry you and lift you up always made your heart and nether regions flutter because he was so big that he basically towered over you. Especially when he became a dad it was like his hot factor exploded exponentially. He basically became the epitome of a dilf.

“You and your mouth,” He tsks as he carries you out of the nursery and into your bedroom, “I just may need to shut you up.”

You whine into his chest before he tosses you down onto your mattress as he towers over you, looking over your body like you were the finest piece of art he’s ever seen. Namjoon always had ways to make you feel like a million bucks even though you were in an old camisole and your old college varsity sweatpants.

“Why don’t you do it then?” You tease back.

You were different from the women that Namjoon has been with prior to your seven-year-long relationship as most of them were pliant and quiet, and took whatever he gave to them. Don’t get him wrong, he loved playing the dominant character in bed but he also needed a brat to push his buttons and it was exactly what you were. Even if the two of you were so fundamentally different in personalities, the two of you were definitely sexually compatible.

“Flip over.” He demands and you whine before reluctantly turning over.

“I want to see you.” You whine petulantly.

You feel him rather than have him verbally respond to you because he delivers a tight slap to your ass as you gasp at the impact. He rubs his hands soothingly over your butt cheeks and squeezes them as he leans over your body, crowding your back with his body heat.

“Don’t be a brat ___.” He sneers into your ear and the moan is stuck on your throat when you feel him drag his hands all over your body until it reaches under your body to reach for your tits.

“Fuck. I love your tits.” He groans.

Namjoon’s hands immediately trail down your body until they reach the hem of your shorts and you wiggle your ass back at him teasingly. You hear him growl and you always knew that Namjoon was an ass man and your ass made him weak.

“Need I remind you that you’re in no position to tease, sweetheart?” He whispers into your ear and you feel the goosebumps erupt on the surface of your skin.

“Fuck. Please—Joon, touch me.” You gasp as you feel him pull down your shorts to be greeted with a cheeky pair of panties that left little to imagine of what hides underneath. Your husband had the talent of getting you obscenely wet without doing much and it’s proven again when you feel the uncomfortable ache between your legs as he flips your body over once again to get a good glimpse of your heaving body, as well as the stain on your panties.

His knuckles trace the inner side of your thigh carefully as he avoids the place you need him the most while you feel more wetness pool at your entrance. You’ve been deprived of his touch for way too long and that caused your sensitive reactions to anything that he did. You missed his fingers so much and having him so close yet so far away from your pussy was destroying your restraint.

“Namjoon p-please!” You cry when he finally cups your mound with his large palm.

He digs the heel of his palm straight into your clit as you arch your back and let out a low moan.

“So wet baby and I’ve barely done anything.” He taunts you with the low baritone of his voice.

“You make me so wet Joonie.” You pant when you feel him grind his palm into your clit some more, providing the satisfying friction that you’ve been craving.

The feeling doesn’t last long because he’s hastily removing your panties from your legs and tosses them somewhere over his shoulder. His face is directly in front of your pussy and you can’t help but feel flustered at the proximity of his breath to your hole. You’ve done this a million times before but the familiarity is slightly lost due to the time between the last and the present.

“Where’s the brat that couldn’t shut her mouth before, hm?” He mumbles and you feel every breath against your pussy. You squirm and feel his large hands wrap around your thighs, locking you into position so you wouldn’t be able to move.

“It’s just been so—ah—long,” You tell him breathily.

“Too long. Missed this pussy.” He says as a parting gift before he dives straight into your clit and begins to lap rounds over the hardened bud. You let out a high pitched moan at the pleasure he was providing you with just his tongue alone, and the way that he knew just where to focus on your clit with tense figure-eights.

“Ah—ah, fuck—Joon!” You groan as your hands wrap around his hair to tug at it. You feel him moan against your pussy, which sends vibrations up to your core and causes more wetness to pool at your centre.

Namjoon is relentless when he digs his hands harder into the meat of your thighs to prevent you from moving too much as he continues to suction on your clit, focusing his attention on it as much as he could. After years of being together, he just knew what you loved and this was it.

You liked it messy. Wet and fast, and Namjoon always gave it to you good. He pulls away momentarily so he could look up at you with a hooded gaze and you let out a high pitched whine when you see the glistening of his chin all the way up to his nose with the signs of your wetness staining him. His fingers run up your thighs teasingly and you shift under his ministrations only for him to smack your right thigh harshly.

“If you move you don’t get to cum.” He threatens you and you immediately still your body with the impossible threat.

You feel his fingers run up and down on your slit as he gathers all your wetness into one place, hovering slightly over your clit. You have to keep your whine to a minimum because Namjoon got real mean when he wanted to. But he was a good lover—so good.

Your hole is throbbing with a need to be filled, and your husband picks up on that immediately as he prods your entrance with the tip of his index finger. You attempt to grind down on him as you make eye contact with the dark eyes that threaten to take away your orgasm.

“I said. Don’t. Move.” He reminds you.

You whimper in silence as he teases your hole a little more before he decides to return home into the warmth of your walls. The moment that barrier was broken, you feel him go straight for the hook as he reaches his index finger all the way up until his knuckles. You hear Namjoon hiss under his breath as he begins prodding your walls until he finds—

“Fuck—there, Joon—ah!” You gasp, head tilting backwards when your husband finds your g-spot.

Namjoon smirks to himself and slides another finger in to hook them upwards into your g-spot, unmoving as he stills himself against the area; causing pure, unaltered pleasured to run through your veins. You’re vibrating and twitching all at once because you can’t control the involuntary response that comes with your husband's demon fingers that are causing every possible pleasurable feeling to run through your system.

You can’t keep the moan to yourself either as Namjoon looks at you with awe, but you miss it because your eyes are too busy being rolled to the back of your head at the way Namjoon skilfully thrusts into your pussy.

“H-Harder, p-please Joon—wanna cum so bad.” You moan and run your fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to your mound.

He lowly chuckles and shakes his head at your sex drive. And the next thing he does next nearly makes you cum on the spot.

The way he gathers his spit at the back of his throat was borderline pornographic as you see the way his throat revs up. He drops the glob of spit directly onto your clit and uses the hand that wasn’t in your pussy to spread the lubricant all over your slit. He purposefully grazes your clit but doesn’t apply enough pressure to make your head spin, but just enough for you to whine in want.

“Your pussy is so pretty love.” He coos, leaning into your mound to deliver kitten-licks to your clit, and the warmth of his tongue with the added addition of his fingers feels all too much.

“J-Joon!” You gasp when you feel him thrust his fingers rapidly in and out of your pussy that your body hitched up the surface of the bed. Every thrust was accompanied by the direct assault of his tongue on your clit as he presses down on the hardened bud with the purpose to drive you closer to your orgasm.

You were painfully close, and the precision of his fingers at your g-spot allows you to revel in the way the coil in your body is ready to snap, so close to release. Namjoon leans down so that his head is where you love him the most, between your thighs as he scores the final goal and presses his tongue against your clit.

“Oh my god Joon—fuck—s-so good—I’m gonna cum!” Your back arches off the bed uselessly because of the way that Namjoon uses his other hand to pin you down, arms wrapped tightly around your stomach.

“Come for me pretty girl.” He coos against your clit and the vibrations is what sends you over the edge.

He fucks his fingers into you as you orgasm, kitten licking your clit with just enough pressure for you to whine as you buck your hips up into his mouth involuntarily.

“Fuck. Baby—hurts.” You whine, pushing his head away from your pussy when the overstimulation gets to you.

Namjoon places one last teasing peck on your clit, which causes you to twitch and pinch his neck as he chuckles, dragging his hand up your body to bring you closer to him.

“Still got it, hm?” He whispers against the column of your neck as you roll your eyes.

“Just kiss me you fool.” You pull him in for a kiss, and your tongue immediately finds its place home in Namjoon’s mouth.

It’s probably because it’s been so long since the two of you could feel each other like this, without any rush to get it over with but with the freedom to enjoy each other’s bodies as much as you’d like. Namjoon’s hands were the truth of that as he trails his arms down the sides of your waist and tugs you closer to him by your hips until he reaches for the hem of your camisole to tug it off your body.

He grabs the mounds of flesh in his hands and squeezes them hard enough to cause another gush of wetness to drip down the side of your thighs and onto his sweatpants. Besides the fact that he delivered a mind-blowing orgasm to you, the stained wetness of his sweatpants from his pre-cum and your slick is enough for you to push him down onto the bed.

“I’m gonna suck your cock.” You kiss him on the lips one last time before you’re leaning down to palm him over his sweatpants.

He hisses above you and grabs the back of your neck lovingly that it has you snorting.

“You know if you’re laughing at my dick my feelings are going to be very hurt,” Namjoon says from above you.

“It’s just …” You shake your head and giggle as you clench your fist around the outline of Namjoon’s cock as he lets out a low breath of approval at your action.

“You used to shove my head onto your cock the moment I reached your pants and now you’re so soft.” You tease.

You hear his breath hitch and the grip on your neck tighten at your taunting words. The excitement already pooling in your stomach at the roughness that would ensue from your husband.

“Me? Soft? Is that what you want baby?” His tone is warning and you know he’s serious.

You shake your head as you look up at him with innocent eyes, a stark contrast to the hand that continues to fondle his balls over his sweatpants.

“Don’t be a bitch and take my cock out.” He sneers, and you smile to yourself cheekily—knowing you hit a sore spot.

You happily oblige as you pull Namjoon’s sweats down to be greeted with your husbands cock. The visual itself has your pussy throbbing, and every time you’re faced with it, you always burn with the prospect of his thick cock pounding into your pussy.

“Now suck it like a good girl.” He guides your head towards his dick but you’re proactive enough to fully start licking at his tip, tongue teasing his slit as you hear him let out a low groan.

Your eyes are locked on his figure, as his head is thrown back. You want to grind on the sheets but you know that would delay him fucking you so you decide against it. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the visual that your husband was giving you from where you were.

Namjoon had always been handsome. But there’s something about seeing him throw his head back in pleasure because of you that has your stomach churning with pride. You’d shamelessly admit that you were more on the possessive side, purely because you knew there were many men and women out there who desired Namjoon in more ways than one; and you didn’t like sharing one bit.

You spit onto his dick as your hands worked the rest of the length that you didn’t engulf in your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks to create a suction. Your tongue begins to tease the underside of his shaft, the way he likes the most and you know he’s enjoying your focus there because the hand that grips your neck is now tightly clutching your hair in a fist.

“Fuck. That’s it, baby.” He groans.

Motivated by the praise, you sink deeper, hands resting on his thick thighs as you push yourself until your nose reaches his pelvis. You’ve taken his cock like a champion on many occasions, and you can only thank him for that like the numerous times he had to guide you down on his cock were probably the only reason why your tiny throat could welcome his thick girth.

The sounds of you chocking on his dick was a lot for Namjoon, mainly because he couldn’t get enough of his wife but also because he’s been waiting out to bust a nut down your throat—actually your pussy—so long that he can’t handle the onslaught of pleasure your mouth brings him.

“Baby—baby,” He tugs you off his cock and the redness around your cheeks with the tears that pool at your waterline is enough to make his heart soar. Even though you were nasty in bed, he loved every single part of your forwardness.

“Your mouth is amazing but I need to cum in your pussy.” He tells you.

You whine at his declaration and allow him to manhandle you until you were face down ass up, ass pressed tightly against his pelvis as you grind your wet cunt over the hardness of his dick.

“Fuck—you’re so wet, baby. You like sucking my cock?” He growls, arms reaching around your stomach to pull your body flush against his chest.

When you reach your hand to wrap around his head to balance yourself, you see a view of your bodies together in your mirror. Courtesy of when you first moved in and due to you and Namjoon’s egocentric tendencies of wanting to see you guys fucking each other.

“S-So much Joon.” You garble.

His hand reach down to cup your mound and digs his palm into your clit as you grind down against his hand. You feel him loosely trace over your clit to gather your wetness into his hand to lather it over his dick.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He whispers in your ear when he lines his cock against your entrance.

You whine, excitement erupting inside of you—until he finally slides it.

It definitely takes you by surprise because your husband was big. And the fact that you haven’t had his dick in you for months made it much more of a pleasant surprise when he bottoms out completely in one swift thrust of his hips, which causes your body to fall forward as your hands grip the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck. This tight pussy’s mine, right?” He growls.

You nod your head into the sheets as he begins with a few experimental thrusts as you adjust to the slight, yet pleasurable, sting in your lower half.

Until you squeeze his hand on your hip to give him the go, Namjoon settles for slow thrusts into your pussy, but it’s enough to prod at your pleasurable spot because not only is Namjoon smart, kind, funny, handsome and ridiculously a great father—he is phenomenal at sex. Probably why he knocked you up on the night of your honeymoon with your bundle of joy.

Namjoon begins snapping his hips into yours relentlessly like a man starved, and starved he was. He’s missed the wet heat of your pussy; and God did he love your daughter—but he missed this—your pussy.

“F-Fuuuuu—” You’re heaving.

Namjoon continues to thrust into your pussy, angling his hips upwards so that he’d reach places deeper than ever as your eyes roll to the back of your heart in pleasure.

“Fuck—this—tight—pussy—” His words follow the sharpness of his thrusts and you don’t even know where to grab because all your sensations are heightened, especially when Namjoon reaches a hand down to your clit to begin rubbing it vigorously.

“Nam—Joon!”

You’re so wet that the squelch of his thrusts is echoed in your bedroom, and the only thing you hear besides that is your loud moans and the heavy breathing coming from Namjoon.

It’s only when he plants his knees firmly into the mattress and brings your hips to meet his thrusts is when you feel your pussy clench uncontrollably around his cock as you wail out his name.

“Fuck, baby—you’re clenching—so—hard.” He groans, pushing his hips deeper into your pussy.

“Love your cock,” You moan, “Fuck—Joon, please—fuck your cum into me.”

“Yeah?” He grits his teeth and flips your over effortlessly, dragging your leg over his shoulder as he begins pounding into you even harder as he admires the way your face contorts in pleasure.

“Yeah.” You nod your head like a sex-crazed maniac because your husband was just too good with his hips.

“Gonna give you another baby.” He whispers when he leans down into your face as your eyes widen at his declaration. Your pussy reacts too, gushing out even more wetness as it becomes tighter around Namjoon’s cock.

“Fuck. You like that idea? A sibling for Chan’?” He grinds his pelvis into your clit as his words spur your second orgasm for the night on.

“No shit?” You gasp when he revs up his spit in the back of his throat, looking at your mouth invitingly.

“Yeah,” He says breathlessly, and you open your mouth to welcome his tongue when he drops the glob of spit down your throat.

You whine, feeling your orgasm coming so closely.

“Fuck Joon—I’m gonna cum.” You gasp.

You feel Namjoon’s hips stutter and you know he’s coming soon too.

“Me too baby.” He tells you while giving you the set of most adoring eyes ever. Even as he’s fucking you into the next dimension, Namjoon makes you feel so utterly loved and whole that you can’t imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else.

He snaps his hips the hardest he’s ever done throughout the entire night, and you feel your pussy throb so much; signalling to you and Namjoon that your release was right there.

“Baby—I’m gonna—I’m gonna c-cum,” You grab onto his shoulder to pull him closer to you.

He welcomes it and leaves open mouth kisses onto your mouth as he fucks into you like a mad man.

“Cum.”

That’s all it takes for you to reach an explosive orgasm, one that quite literally causes you to blank out for a second because while Namjoon’s hot cum spurts into your pussy short after you came, he feels your body go limp in his embrace; causing his eyes to widen.

Only until you’re blinking up at him dazedly is when he holds you to his chest, as you feel his chest rumble when he chuckles.

“Baby … I thought you died.” He cards a hand through your hair and you smile at him, stupidly in love.

“If I die because of your dick I’d be happy.” You grin at him cutely. And he scoffs at the way you look so cute after you’ve been fucked to hell and back.

“My horny little monster,” He flicks your forehead as you bring him close to your chest, his dick still settled inside of you. But there was a sort of intimacy that you couldn’t quite put words to, but welcomed the gesture nevertheless.

“Were you serious?” You ask after a while of sharing a few intimate pecks to each others’ lips.

He finally pulls out to roll on his side as he reaches over to pull your close to his chest. He raises an eyebrow at your expression when you feel his cum leak out of you.

“God you really didn’t jack off recently, did you?” You ask.

He pecks you on the nose as he quickly tugs clean boxers over his legs and disappears into your on-suite. You sigh to yourself dreamily, thinking of how lucky you were to be with someone as loving and compassionate as Namjoon was.

You weren’t necessarily unlucky when it came to your relationships prior to him, but there would always be dealbreakers that caused splits to be more bitter than neutral. Namjoon was the only man in your life that you could speak to without fearing any judgement from because he wasn’t like that. He knew how to make you feel wanted and also how to want yourself, all while being your best friend and partner.

When he returns, he returns with a damp cloth and immediately begins cleaning up the mess between your thighs, even as he cheekily mentions how there was more from where that came from as you slap him on the shoulder.

Once he ensures he’s satisfied, he tosses the cloth into the laundry basket and grabs a big t-shirt of his to slip it over your body. You hum in satisfaction as his scent overwhelms you, even more so when he tugs you close to his body and he looks at you with all the love in the world.

“You asked if I was serious earlier?” He repeats your question and you nod your head looking up at him.

“Yeah.” You let out a breathy smile when he leans down to pull your face towards his own as you admire all the freckles and pores on his skin, fingers tracing loosely over the wrinkles that come with age.

“I know it’s sudden but … I’ve been thinking about our family and—I want our family to become bigger.” He tells you like it’s a secret. You know he’s been mulling over it for quite a while because he looks a little unsure of himself, but all you can do is smile widely at him.

“Really?” You ask, playing with the hair on the back of his neck when you feel his fingers trace over the skin on your back.

“Of course. I love you, and I love Chanmi. I’ve always wanted kids and you brought the best gift in my life to me and … I can’t explain how happy I am when I’m with the two of you.” He smiles at you gently.

You don’t know if it’s because he just fucked you so good, or was it because you were lovesick, but your eyes water because Namjoon was Namjoon.

“But—if you’re not ready then I understand and we can—”

“Yes.” You interrupt him.

His eyes widen as you see the excitement begin to pour into his irises.

“Wait—really?” He asks innocently.

You nod your head and kiss him on the lips softly, no rush as he returns the gesture, holding you close onto his chest where you feel the best in his arms.

“Yes really. I want what you want. And I think it’s about time Chanmi gets a sibling, no?” You tease.

He groans like you’re unreal as he buries his head into the crook of your neck as you caress him gently. Namjoon was really just like an oversized baby and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“When?” He asks.

You tease your fingertips down to his chest and offer him a knowing look.

“Now?” You feign indifference but you can see the wide grin he sports on his face.

“Fuck. Don’t say that. I think my dick is going to fall off at how hard I fucked you just now,” He whined.

“You’re getting old,” You massage his shoulders as he sighs.

“I am …” He acknowledges, “But we’ll grow old together, right?”

The prospect of a future of unknowns with Namjoon only makes your heart bloom. You nod your head, not another word need to be uttered as he holds you in his arms, excited for what’s to come.

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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[fanmoose12]

nothing but my aching soul

Levi and Hange's first time happens when both of them are far from being young.

(or a ridiculously fluffy fic about Levi being a nervous wreck).

nsfw under the cut!

It was ridiculous, foolish and absurd.

He used to be a soldier who dealt with giant, human eating monsters with precise efficiency and zero fear. He survived a goddamn war, he made it out of the bloody apocalypse. There was no reason for him to be nervous about anything, especially not about this.

After all, it was just Hange, weird, quirky Hange who knew him inside out, far better than he knew himself.

And after the awful war and years of yearning for each other, after Hange had whispered a confession to him during one of the many nights she spent in hospital with him, after she confirmed that yes, she loved him, his feelings were very much reciprocated, they always were, taking their relationship to a next stage was only natural, wasn't it?

Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't think about it, he dreamed about it, albeit briefly, in the rare times when their lives weren't in mortal danger and the fate of the whole world wasn't resting on their shoulders.

And he thought about it - about Hange and things he wished they were allowed to do - a lot, a truly embarrassing amount of time, actually.

He thought, he dreamed, he fantasied about it, but now that he had an actual Hange in front of him, and not an image from one of his numerous wet dreams, he wasn't sure how to proceed.

"We don't have to do it, you know," Hange gently whispered in his ear. Damn her and her ability to read him like an open book. Levi did his best to school his expression into something neutral, to hide his nervousness from her. But, of course, he could never hide, not from Hange. "We can wait, or we can just forget it and never bring it up ever again."

Hange was already half-undressed and she was already laying on top of him. And yet, she was ready to backtrack, his comfort was, as always, her main priority.

However, Hange's comfort was his main priority too, and Levi wanted to make her feel good, not just with awkward words and cups of tea. He could see that Hange wanted to do it, to become incredibly close in more than just metaphorical sense, he wanted it to, he was determined to commit to it, but...

"Let's take it slowly, alright?" he murmured, moving his hands to her naked hips. He started rubbing them in circular motions, and Hange smiled, enjoying the gentle caress.

"Then..." she watched him closely, searching for any sign of discomfort. "Will it be okay if I kiss you?"

Levi gave a small nod, and Hange leaned in, pressing her lips against his. It was awkward at first, their noses nearly collided, but Hange tilted her head just so, and slowly deepened the kiss, turning it into something more than just a chaste touch.

"Is it okay?" she repeated, as her tongue licked at his lips.

Was it okay? Already, it was much better than simply okay. But Levi could just give Hange another nod. His right hand was still on her hip, but he moved his left hand, his healthy one, to her head, entangling it into her hair.

Now, it wasn't certainly better than simply okay, and out of sudden, Levi, who had survived war and apocalypse, who had lost people and had killed people, who had no childhood and had known little to none real happiness, who was already well in his forties, now he was feeling like a teenage boy, who was lucky enough to kiss his first love.

He was not a boy anymore, but Hange still was his first and she would be his last love, and the realization that he was kissing her, that they both survived, that now they could do anything they were denied by violence and duty, and the knowledge that the world didn't need them anymore, so they could stay like this forever, exchanging kisses like a couple of careless teenagers, was enough to make his heart clench and his chest fill with love and happiness.

He wanted to pull Hange even closer, until they were one, but as he tightened his hold on her, Hange gently disentangled herself from him.

"Hey..." her palms were on his cheeks, softly caressing his skin. "Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?"

And only then, when he saw the worry in her eye, Levi realized that his own eyes were wet.

Fuck.

He quickly wiped his eyes, blushing furiously. Hange just wanted to have a little bit of fun, wanted to make both of them feel good, and he started crying, like a damn emotional fool.

"It's fine, I'm fine," he assured Hange, keeping his face turned away from her. "Let's continue."

"Levi... if something bothers you, then just say so. I need to know if I did something to hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me," he gruffly protested. "You did nothing wrong, you..."

How could he say it? How could he tell Hange that she was making him so happy that he was ready to weep out of simple, unbrindled joy?

"It wasn't bad tears, four-eyes," he softly mumbled. "I was just..."

Too overwhelmed, too happy, far too in love.

"Oh Levi," as always, Hange seemed to understand him without actual words. She chuckled, looking at him with so much love and adoration that it made Levi wonder how in the world did he deserve all of this. "I love you so, so much," she confessed, before she left a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you," she repeated, this time pressing a kiss to right his eyelid.

"I love you," then to the left.

"I love you," this was accompanied by a kiss to the left cheek.

"I love you," and to the right.

"You're just doing this to make me cry again," he weakly protested.

Hange didn't deny it. She also didn't stop that extremely sweet torture, and pressed her lips against the curve of his nose. "I love you."

Next, she moved to the small dimple on his chin. "I love you."

"I love you," she finished, connecting their lips again.

As they pulled apart, Levi refused to let Hange move away from him. With his hand still in her hair, he made her lean closer again, until their lips were barely touching. He gazed straight in to her eyes, letting Hange see everything - his tear-streaked face, his numerous scars and his weary soul.

Then, with his voice barely above the whisper, he let out the truth that was hidden inside him for far too long.

"I love you too. More than anything."

This time, tears started to brim in the corner of Hange's only eye. She gave him a brief, weak nod, and then pressed her forehead against his, deeply inhaling his scent.

They stayed like that for a while, a long, peaceful while.

But then, when the silence stretched for far too long and Hange's loving gaze started to make him want to cry again, Levi softly nudged her, scoffing Impatiently.

"Can we continue? Before I make a complete embarrassment of myself again?"

"So impatient," Hange snickered.

She leaned back, her hands moving over his body. They traveled down his neck, across his chest, around his stomach, until...

"Oh," Hange's eye widened. "You are impatient. I didn't just make you cry, eh?"

God, was Hange on a quest to make him as red as humanly possible? Because she certainly excelled at it.

Levi quickly learnt that this wasn't the only thing Hange excelled at, and when she touched the noticeable bulge on his pants, Levi whined and backed up his hips.

Hange grinned, almost wolfishly. Levi gulped, feeling like he had just witnessed the creation of horrible, sex-addicted monster.

"Firstly, we have to take this off," she narrated, as she helped him out of his pants and underwear. Once his cock was freed, Hange wrapped her hand around it, moving it up and down his length in a quick, fluid motions.

When she leaned down, her lips hovering above his dick, Levi almost choked.

"No!" he pulled her away, his movement nearly panicked.

"No?" Hange raised her eyebrows, looking extremely confused. "I thought the men enjoy it..."

"We do, I do," Levi assured her quickly. "But..." there it was again, that damn embarrassment. "If you do this now, I'm not sure I'll be able to last for long."

"Oh..." Hange's face lightened up with understanding. "Alright, that's for another time then."

The backhand promise made heat gather deep in his stomach. Levi wetted his lips, his throat suddenly too dry.

"Hange..." he husked, lifting up his arm. "Since I'm already naked..."

"Of course," she smiled, and before he could finish his sentence, she already took off her bra. Almost immediately, she raised her hips to get rid of her panties, and Levi took a deep breath.

He thought he had seen everything this world had to offer - he had seen the vast blue sky, the bright sun, the glistening sea... But none of it, absolutely nothing, could compare to the beauty that was Hange.

Her tan skin, even with all the scars and burn marks, was perfect and soft. Her hair, although shorter than before, was still just as rich in color and shiny. Her eye held the infinite amount of warmth and intelligence. Her body was still that of a seasoned soldier, lean and muscled and strong.

Levi wanted to touch every part of her, to lavish it with love, to praise and worship it. Well, as Hange had said... that was for another time.

While he was so lost in watching her, Hange had already climbed on top of him again. Now, she took his dick in her hand and started to slowly lower herself on it. Her breath quickened and she was frowning slightly. Levi felt worry come alive inside him.

"Hange?" he carefully asked. "Can I... help with something?"

Her frown disappeared, taken over by a loving smile. She took his hand in hers, maneuvering it between her legs.

"You can touch me here," she said, pressing his fingers against her hardening clit. Levi did as Hange had told, and started to circle it, slowly at first, but growing bolder when he saw that Hange was enjoying it.

Deciding to take the initiative, Levi put his other hand on her breast, massaging her nipple softly. Hange gasped at the sudden contact and let out a little moan.

Encouraged, Levi continued his ministrations.

Finally, Hange fitted all of his length inside her.

"Good?" she asked in between pants.

Good? Hange was so warm, so wet and so tight, Levi didn't even know that something so simple could feel that fantastic. And then Hange started to move, simply lifted her hips to lower herself onto him once again, and Levi had to bite back a groan, a long, embarrassingly satisfied groan.

"Is it..." he huffed, as her next movement knocked all air out of him. "Is it just as good for you?"

"It's amazing," Hange answered, just as breathlessly. "You... you're amazing, Levi."

His strokes against her clit became more purposeful but Levi took his hand away from her chest. As soon as he did, Hange grabbed his palm, intertwining their fingers. Then, when Levi thought that it couldn't get any better, she leaned down on him and captured his lips in another sensuous kiss.

The heat in his stomach was growing and growing, nearly ready to spill.

"Hange, Hange," he puffed between the kisses. "Hange, I'm so-"

"I know," Hange swallowed all of his moans and whimpers. "I'm close too, Levi."

Another kiss and another circle around her clit, and Hange squeezed his hand almost painfully, tightening around him.

That was all it took for Levi to follow her over the edge.

Hange slipped off him and fell down next to him, burying her face into his shoulder.

"Fuck, Levi..." she softly laughed, pressing yet another kiss against his dump hair. "We should have done it sooner."

"Mm," he mumbled, too spent for anything more coherent.

"Let's stay like this," Hange pulled him closer, so his head was laying on her chest. The sound of her steady heartbeat instantly was lulling him to sleep. However, Levi couldn't allow himself to slumber just yet.

"Oi, four-eyes," he pinched her side, receiving a surprised yelp in response. "We need to shower, I feel disgusting."

Hange's eye twinkled, as she throw him a long, mischievous look. "You weren't hating it moments ago, though."

"Well, now I do," Levi started to raise up.

Hange huffed, but helped him to get up. "You never change, clean freak."

"Neither do you, four-eyes."

"A perfect couple, aren't we?" she teased.

"That we are," he agreed, grasping her hand tightly.

With Hange at his side, his heart was finally at peace.

[fly-flower-fanfics]

Cherry Blossoms

Shouta Aizawa x Male Reader

Warnings: Safe word usage, sexual activities, dirty talking, choking, degradation, sexual trauma, implied rape

(Italicized paragraphs are a flashback)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My hands were tied together above my head with Aizawa’s capture scarf. The material was also wrapped around my chest and torso, ending in his hands. He smirked as he looked down at me. 

“You look so pretty underneath me like that.” A blush flushed my cheeks at his words. “You like that, don’t you?” His hands pulled on the scarf, tugging my hands a little with it. “Don’t you.” 

“Y-yes,” I breathed out.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

Aizawa smiled again, loosening his grip just slightly on the scarf, allowing my bound hands to rest against the pillow again. He straddled my hips, grinding against me in the slightest bit. I could feel his arousal against my own, edging me closer and almost making me beg for what I wanted. What I needed the most.

Gently, a hand wrapped around my neck, and Aizawa bent down, his body weight pressing against my chest. His lips were close to my ear, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck. 

“Gonna fuck you,” he mumbled. “I’m gonna fuck you so good. Make you beg for me, desire me, make it until all you can think of is me, and me inside of you. I’m going to make you scream my name, you little slut.” Aizawa’s hand progressively got tighter around my neck. “I’ll fuck you senseless, my little whore, until all you can’t speak at all. And you’ll take it, just like the good little boy I know that you are.” He kissed my neck softly, nipping at it. “Maybe I’ll use my Quirk and render you completely powerless.”

It was almost impossible for me to breathe and the words that he was saying brought back memories. Memories that I didn’t really want.

I was almost thrown down on the bed, and he hovered over top of me. He sneered at me, yanking me closer to him. Nothing about what he was doing was gentle at all, nothing like how I had previously begged for after he hadn’t taken my no for an answer.

“You should know never to tell me no, bitch,” he growled. “I don’t like hearing those words come from your dirty, little mouth.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lower lip. I didn’t want to see him right now. I didn’t want any of this. Our relationship had slowly been deteriorating, and I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until this moment now. The moment he didn’t accept my ‘no�� any longer.

“Please,” I whimpered softly. “Please don’t do this. I-I said no. I don’t want to do this right now.” I felt so helpless, unable to do much of anything. Powerless.

A harsh slap to the face stopped any more words from leaving my lips. “Did I fucking say you could talk, whore? I didn’t. Shut up, and take it like a good little boy.” When I tried to push him away, he grabbed my neck, squeezing it tightly, choking me. “Stop fucking squirming, and maybe, maybe, I’ll be gentle with you.”

“P-please,” I whimpered softly, squeezing my eyes shut, struggling for air. 

Aizawa only smiled against my neck. “Starting already, are we?”

I shook my head a little, feeling my lip quiver. “C-cherry blossoms...”

Aizawa’s grip on my neck released before I even finished the whole safe word. I felt his smile fade a split second before he pulled away from my neck and body completely. His fingers made quick work of untying the capture scarf from my body and throwing it to the side. 

I felt guilty for using the safe word, but I felt even more guilty once I remembered that both of us were still in our boxers. We’d not even gotten fully undressed or done anything...

Aizawa’s thumb swiped away tears I didn’t even realize I had been shedding. “Shh, you’re okay baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

I shook my head, forcing myself into a sitting position. “N-no, no, I-I gotta... gotta do...”

“You don’t have to do anything. You used the safe word. We’re done now. It’s okay.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks at the immense guilt I felt over hearing ‘we’re done now.’ I knew that wasn’t his intention, but I couldn’t help myself. 

“I didn’t d-do anything for you!” I blubbered, nearly full on sobbing. “I have to do something for you. I didn’t... didn’t make you f-feel good or anything. I-I didn’t make you cum, and I didn’t even t-touch you. I-I got anxious over memories an-and I said it and I shouldn’t have an-”

“Hey.” Aizawa gently turned my head to make me look him in the eyes. “Never say you shouldn’t have said the safe word. It’s okay that you didn’t do anything for me, and it’s always, always okay that you used the safe word. I didn’t ask before doing those things. I’m sorry; that’s on me.”

He slid his hand down my cheek and took mine. I knew I was going to have to tell him about why it triggered me so much. He wasn’t going to ask, but I knew that it wouldn’t be fair to keep him in the dark on the subject.

“How about I draw a bath. Would that make you feel better?”

I nodded, sniffling and wiping my tears. Aizawa got up and went to the bathroom. I could hear the water running, but he didn’t return. I was grateful for that because I needed a few minutes to myself. I was thankful that he paid so much attention to me. Eventually, I got up and went to the bathroom. The tub was almost full.

“Will you join me?” I asked softly, my voice slightly hoarse from crying. 

Aizawa looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a soft smile. “Of course.”

It was silent then as the two of us undressed and got into the warm bath together. I leaned back against his chest, and he draped his arms loosely around my waist. His thumbs rubbed small circles on my hip bones, and his chin settled gently on my shoulder, offering soft whispers of sweet nothings and encouragements. 

I was crying, silent tears running down my cheeks. I didn’t deserve this sort of treatment. I didn’t feel like I did at all. I ruined everything. The whole night. I knew Aizawa knew I was cryng, but he didn’t say anything about it. He was giving me space, giving me time, and giving me soft encourgament to do what I needed to do.

“He raped me,” I whispered quietly, looking down and watching the water ripple as my tears dripped into it. “I-I said no, but he didn’t listen, and I... some of the things you said and the whole choking thing...” I shook my head. That was all I wanted to say right now, and I silently begged that he wouldn’t press me to tell more. “I’m sorry I ruined our night.”

Aizawa pressed a gentle kiss onto my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Next time I’ll ask every time before doing something. But you did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. That was on him, and this is on me. I’m so, so proud of you for using your safe word. You did so good. So good.”

We got out of the bath shortly after that and dried off. Aizawa opted for sweatpants without a shirt, while I took one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. He always teased me when I wore his shirts, telling me that if I needed a hug, he was right there. But it was his scent that calmed me down and knowing that it was something of his made it all the more better. Tonight, he didn’t make fun of me even though we were going to cuddle.

He pulled me close to him, and my head rested on his chest. I could hear his steady heartbeat, and I tried matching my breathing to its steady rhythm. His fingers gently combed through my hair, which made me tear up again. This man truly loved me, and I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Anyone better.

Aizawa began to hum a soft tune, vibrating deep in his chest. It brought a smile to my face, and I hummed along with him.

“I love you, Sho,” I whispered softly after a few minutes.

“I love you, Y/N,” he replied back.

Slowly, I found myself drifting off to sleep, knowing I would be safe in Aizawa’s arms. 

[buckyownsmylife]

Secret Door: the one where there's a dinner date and some innuendo

President James Buchanan Barnes is the first president to occupy the White House without a first lady ever since… well, President James Buchanan Barnes. But he’s not too worried about it, since he got his best friend from college acting as his VP, supporting him just like only someone who knew everything about him could do. What happens when feelings from the past start to resurface?

Or the one where you and Bucky used to date but now you got a country to run.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Thank you so much for having dinner with me tonight, doll.” I rested my fork on the plate to reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly as I finished chewing.

“You know you can always count on me, Buck.” The way he looked up at me from under his eyelashes made me feel conflicted - because that’s what he looked like too. Stuck between pain and gratitude, I didn’t want to tap into what could be causing both of those emotions because I knew I’d be able to identify it, and he deserved at least a little bit of privacy.

If he wanted to let me know, he’d tell me.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one I can truly count on.” The way he said it, almost defeated, pulled at my heartstrings until I couldn’t take it anymore. Smiling softly, I rubbed my thumbs on the inside of the wrist I held.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Immediately, his head was shaking.

“Not at all. It’s good to know I can count on you. It makes me happy.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just kept smiling and rubbing his wrist, waiting for more because I knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“Tell me what is really bothering you,” I pressed, anxious to know so I could make him feel better. Even after all this time, all I wanted was to make him feel better, make him smile like the twenty-something boy I used to know him as.

Bucky sighed, fingers running through his hair as he avoided my eyes, but kept his hand in mine. He was finding the courage to speak, I knew that. Eventually, he stopped looking to the side and met my gaze again.

“What if I’m not enough?” It was a question I’d heard multiple times, and that I knew prompted different answers every time. Tonight, I had an inkling as to what he was referring to, but I needed to be sure of it so I could be of any help. “I knew it was going to be hard, now that I’m here I fear I’m going to fail at every turn.”

His beautiful blue eyes sparkled as he confessed what was on his mind, “I don’t want to be a failure.”

“James, pay attention to what I’m going to say.” I didn’t leave any time for him to stew in the difficult words he admitted, wanting to cut the seed of doubt right as it began to flourish. “James, you are not your job.”

He let out a breath that clearly indicated just how much he was keeping inside until that moment, relief finally within his reach at my reminder, so I continued, “The next three years are going to be hard, but if there’s anyone who can do this, that person is you.”

I allowed those words to settle over him like a thick warm blanket of comfort. I liked to think of myself as that blanket for him, and nothing ever made me happier than when I was able to make him feel better.

But it was late, and dinner was over already. So, with one last smile, I squeezed his arm and started to push my chair back so I could get up. James, however, didn’t seem to catch on to my intention (or agree with it) because he took advantage of the connection between out limbs to keep me close.

“Hey, remember how we always wanted to go to Italy?” My eyebrows were furrowed in confusion at his random question, but I smiled at the memory. It was our last year in college, so many plans were made then - plans that disappeared as graduation day approached and I was holding another man’s hand by the end of it.

“Yes, I do.” I’m sure my smile denounced my guilt, even though I knew I’d done nothing wrong. Bucky had been the one to break up with me. I was free to date whomever I wanted, and that’s what I did - even if no one had ever gotten anywhere near the space the man in front of me occupied in my heart.

“We should do that again, once this is all over.” I didn’t remind him that we’d probably be visiting Italy together very soon, in one of our formal encounters with the president of the foreign country. I didn’t remind him because I understood what he meant.

There was something fundamentally different between a work trip as heads of state and a road trip with your best friend.

“Sure.” I smiled, squeezing his hand in the hopes that he’d let me go now. “Let’s do that.” It’s not that I didn’t appreciate his company - he was my favorite person in the entire world - but being alone with him in the dead of night roused some dangerous feelings within me, feelings that I was only really able to keep at bay when the sun high in the sky.

“I should really go now,” I insisted, giggling softly at how he was still trying to keep me close while I slowly made my way to the door. Behind me, he huffed, prompting me to turn around and meet his eyes once more.

“Fine,” he relented, but when he crossed his arms over his chest, I already knew there was a catch. “Will you come and work out with me tomorrow morning?” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me at his invitation.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

I’d been trying to get her to train with me for ages now. Back in college we used to go on runs together, and well… on the evenings, we used to have other ways to burn off some calories.

But she wasn’t big on lifting weights, I knew that. Still, I kept insisting, hoping one day I’d have the pleasure of waking up and feel eager to leave the bed because I knew she’d be waiting for me at the gym.

“You know how much I hate exercising.” She shook her head, giggling, and the wine had gotten to my head, I knew. But it only messed with what was already there - intensifying it, deepening it.

“I remember some physical exercises you liked to do with me.” My voice had dropped a few tones. It had been ages since I used it on her and I was excited to see that it still affected her greatly.

I knew it in my soul. I knew - she still belonged to me. And I think she knew it too, but we were both too scared to take that next step, considering everything that had changed since we were last together.

We weren’t college students anymore. We were in charge of a nation. But I was tired of being scared and most of all - I was tired of being without her.

My eyes were heavy-lidded as I took in the way she was breathing through her mouth. I anticipated her frustration coming through at any second, and sure enough, “You can’t just say stuff like that!”, she complained. But I only chuckled, pressing her against the wall of the dining room, nuzzling her cheek so I could breathe her in.

“Anything to get you to stay a little longer.” I loved the way her skin became covered in goosebumps when my thigh settled between her legs, pressing against her cunt. “You’re the only thing that makes me truly happy these days,” I sighed.

I think it justified the way I craved her so deeply. She was the one sense of normalcy I had in my life, and even when she tried to hold herself back from me, it all took me right back to our college days and how long it took her to cave and go out on a date with me in the first place.

“Do you know how lonely it gets? Waking up every morning without someone to share this burden with?” I confided, rubbing circles on her hips while I tried to get her to look me in the eye again. “I can understand why most presidents had a first lady by their side. I envy them.”

Brushing her hair away from her face, I took in the sight of her with her lips parted, eyelids heavy with desire. How long had it been since I’d seen her like this? Just staring at her made me hot.

“Don’t look at me like that!” She admonished, having realized how I was undressing her with my eyes. A chuckle was all I could offer as a response, as she adjusted herself on my leg to offer, “You know you can share it with me. I’m your vice-president, that’s what I’m here for.”

But I shook my head almost immediately. “It’s not the same,” I whispered, caressing her cheek, eyes never leaving hers for even a second. “You know it’s not the same. If I could have you with me all the time…”

I couldn’t even deal with the possibility, so I just shoved it aside to favor my reality, leaning down to connect our lips for the first time in decades.

“James…” She sighed when we parted, while I rubbed my chapped lips against the soft skin of her shoulder. I knew this was dangerous territory. I knew it.

“Shh…” Tucking my hands beneath her skirt, I rubbed the outside of her thighs, relishing in the feeling of her muscles melting at my pawing. I wanted to distract her from the rational so she could focus on the instinctive calling there was between us, from the day we met.

She’d enchanted me right then, with a single smile, and whatever spell she put on me was nowhere near fading. I, on the other hand, was tired of fighting it.

“Having a hard time controlling your hands, huh?” She teased when I finally reached her ass, massaging it excitedly, using my grip to rub her against my thigh.

“You know they have a mind of their own when it comes to you,” I smirked, kissing her shoulder as I left it to connect our lips again. “One more time, darling,” I begged just as soon as we were forced to part to catch our breaths. “We were so good at it, remember?”

The laugh she let escape brought hope to my heart because it sounded far breathier than her usual chuckles of amusement.

“We have to keep practicing,” I insisted, kissing along her jaw as I kept proposing, “so we won’t forget how to bring each other pleasure… should we ever need it again.”

My muscles were straining in the effort to hold back from her, but I could see my gentle advances were paying out. She was the one rocking her hips along my thigh to get some friction, the hand clasping my shoulder seeming to want to both push me away and pull me closer.

“One more time,” I repeated, right over her ear, running my hands up her body, hoping to see her cave. “Just let me fuck you one more time…”

[twatshag]

♤ Sakusa kiyoomi's night terrors ♤

Unfaithful. Oh it was just a dream. But why did it feel so real...

Genre: fluff to angst and then back to fluff, smut

Pairing: TIMESKIP both characters!!!!!sakusa x fem reader (in dream atsumu X READER)

Warnings: smut in dream, you cheating in the dream (you wrong for dat sis😩)

M DNI!!!

HIS POV small glimpse of your pov as well

—----------------------------------------------—

What a day. I sighed looking at the clock it was only 5 pm. Y/n was going to be here at 8 pm. I cleaned and already bought groceries for dinner.

I'm quite satisfied with how things looked around the apartment. As of lately y/n decided to bring me some plants and decorations everytime she visited, because in her opinion my apartment looked lifeless and bland.

I smiled softly thinking about tonight. I'm going to ask her to move in with me today. I mean I hope she doesnt mind. Maybe she'll be taken back by my sudden request or oh god what if she rejects me.. ?

I gulped trying to focus on the show I was watching and pushing back all the negative outcomes. She told me about this show during one of our phone calls and told me that I'd definitely enjoy it. She knows me so well, god I can't wait to tell her how much I appreciate her today.

As of lately I've been gathering up the courage to finally tell her that I'm ready to have intercourse with her. She's been so loving and patient this whole time I can't imagine how sweet she is for waiting up 6 months for me. I couldn't imagine if there was anyone who'd be so willing to respect my very picky boundaries but there she was.

I can't help but think about how it would feel for me and her being so close together. And becoming one. I blushed deeply at the thought. After all there Is one benefit of her not living with me.

That's not seeing me blush like this tsk. I bet she'd give me that smug smile and ask if I'm okay. I rolled my eyes thinking about her smug smile.

I never really asked if she's had.. intercourse with someone before. What if I wasn't good enough to satisfy her expectations..? What if.. she rejects my offer? What if I hurt her during it ? Oh god I don't want that. My head plagued me with bad thoughts about the idea of trying to satisfy her and failing miserably.

Y/n is absolutely gorgeous, all my team mates seem to love her and hell I really hate the way that stupid setter of a team mate looks at her.

I can't help but get jealous because she seems so comfortable with him. Sometimes I even find myself comparing the alternative realities of her being with him instead.

He's easy going has no stupid boundaries and he probably has a ton of experience to satisfy her.. my heart clenched at the thought of her leaving me for him.

I pushed those thoughts back once again. I looked at the clock it read 5:30 pm. Maybe I can dose off and when she comes around I'll tell her everything that's on my mind. I can't keep on post poning things.

I closed my eyes long forgotten about the show playing in the background as I waited for her.

~~~~~\\~~~~~~~~~~\~~\\\~~\\\\\~~~~~~\\\~\~~~~

My eyes shot open as I heard muffled sounds in my apartment. Just what the hell was that?

I groaned as I sat up and looked at the clock it read 6:50 pm. Could she have arrived early?

The sounds were coming from the bedroom I smiled softly as I heard her beautiful voice. A voice that's so gentle when talking to me, so soft when she notices the way I slump from a long day of practice. Everything I've ever wanted in a woman. Was mine to keep and cherish.

I peeked through the crack and I noticed someone hovering over the bed. Smiling I opened it more to see what she was doing.

"Oh god yes yes tsumu right there." I felt my heart rip out of my chest. There she laid in my own apartment,in my own bed. With him. On top of her kissing her neck and thrusting into her.

She clung to him harder than she's ever clung to me.

Her mouth hung open and the so beautiful voice was now a curse I was hearing.

He kissed her neck hungrily.

"Ya feel so good angel-so fucking good." He quickened his pace while kissing her disgustingly his tongue gracing her so beautiful skin and infecting it. "Tsumu- aghnn mmhm yes-God fuck yes- yes y-ea-s." I wanted to scream, to move and tear them apart, to burn the whole apartment down hell even to avert my eyes but I couldn't.

Everything I've loved sat there being caressed by another man. That man was not me.

That man was someone better than I'll ever be.

Her gaze fell on me. Tears perked up my eyes looking at her stone lust filled eyes.

She gave me a smug smile.. That smug smile that was always so playfully displayed looked much darker than ever. No hint of playfulness or mercy. No hint of fake innocence as it once had.

"You've always been such a burden sakusa." I flinched at her tone and the mention of my last name, while that man was kissing her neck hungirly, thrusting into her as if I wasn't even there to begin with. That I ceased to exist in his world as of now.

Everything went silent for a moment, her whimpers became muted from the way the faux blonde thrusted into her as she spoke the next words.

"I never loved you. Sakusa. Me and you both know that atsumu was always the righteous man for me. You good for nothing replaceable freak."

And with that I was pushed back into the sofa my eyes shot open as I stared at her face above me cheeks flushed red from her shower she looked so beautiful but my heart it ached from what I saw. Did he see her like this too? She shrieked and stepped back.

"jesus christ kiyo! What the hell ?! are you psychic? I was about to wake you up!"

Kiyo... a name she always called me when things were serious. But the worry and softness that concealed her voice was not enough for me to accept what I just saw as an illusion.

I stood up pushing past her acting like she's not even there. I despised her existence with all my heart yet I can't help but repeat those words in my head. She's right I am replaceable. I'm a freak and I'll never be able to find love.

"Hey what the hell?! I'm talking to you, you know mister sleepy head!" She followed me into the kitchen trying to get me to talk to her, god her presence made me want to vomit.

I grabbed a glass and poured water into it and as I began to drink it to calm my nerve down before I lost my composure that was literally hanging by a thread right now.

I felt her hand on my back and to say the least i wanted nothing but to get her filthy hands and presence out of my life right now.

"Omi..what's wrong you kn-"

"Don't fucking touch me." I hissed, venom lacing my tone as I averted her gaze because seeing her made my heart clench.

Everything that I always wanted was in the arms of someone else. But why keep me around? Why hurt me like this?

I felt her staring at me wide eyed and from the corner of my eye I could see that she looked at her hand.

"I'm sorry are my hands di-"

"They're fucking filthy you disgusting bitch." This time I looked her in the eyes. Her eyes widened at my tone. She deserved it. She did this to herself what the hell was she expecting?

me to welcome her back after she just tore my heart apart ? After she was....with him? In my fucking bed? Infecting it and my life with the pain?

"Omi you don'-"

"Get out."

"W-what? Wh-"

"I SAID GET OUT!" I slammed my hand on the counter and she flinched "get the hell out of my apartment you filthy-" not even finishing my sentence I suddenly felt cold and wet

—----------------------------------------------—

YOUR POV

—----------------------------------------------—

If there's anything that life has taught me it's that whenever someone was angry DO NOT stay around them. For the sake of the both of you.

As I entered kiyoomi's apartment having a spare he was sleeping peacefully on the sofa making me smile softly. Deciding to leave him rest until I took my clothes off showering and then coming back to the living room to wake him up.

I couldn't help but notice that he was shuffling as if he was in pain i frowned and I decided to reach to shake him awake just as I was about to do so to my surprise he just jolted awake and now here we are.

He was being extremely mean and I think that I know what was going on he was shouting at me with a tone I've never recognised before.

The advise of leaving someone angry long left my mind and the glass of water now emptied in omi's face.

He stared at the ground with such pure anger and hate shocked that I had the nerve to even do such a thing after whatever the hell he saw or heard.

I sighed

"What ever dream y/n did just know that I'd never do to you. When you're ready to talk to me about it I'll be in your balcony. I'm sorry for.. throwing water in your face but you need to understand that I had no other choice." I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly putting the glass down on the counter in case he wanted to drink one more time before facing me. And with that I left and made my way to his balcony.

Whatever he saw must've hurt him deeply for him to react that way I thought I sat down looking at the beautiful sight of Tokyo breathing in its air smiling softly at the sounds of the lifeful city.

Whenever he's ready he'll come to me.

—----------------------------------------------—

Back to his pov

—----------------------------------------------—

She... threw water in my face. Suddenly I feel more awake. And guilty. God I feel so guilty. It was just a dream.

And I thought she'd... I have to fix this.

Panicking on how the hell i was going to word off 'sorry i had a dream where you cheated and I was so sure you did it so I screamed at you ' to her I filled the glass of water and drank it going into the bedroom sighing and letting a few tears spill while changing my wet shirt.

At times like this I'd truly begin to wish that I was like everyone else.

That I wasn't a very cautious man who was so blunt and had a comeback for everything but the man that could've made her life better.

I put on my slides and my hand hovered over my balcony door. Watching her city gaze smiling softly to herself.

At times where she would come over she always insisted on drinking coffee in my balcony at night.

At first it sounded so silly because I wouldn't get to sleep the whole night but instead i slept better and happier more fulfilled.

"Staring isn't nice you know?" Her sweet voice cut my train of memories and I opened the door clearing my throat.

God how awkward where the hell do I even begin to apologise i feel so guilty and dumb for even doubting you.

I sat next to her.

"You cheated on me.." she snapped her neck so fast it felt like it broke wide eyed. Before she could even speak I reassured "in my dream."Her expression softened she nodded listening to what I had to say.

"It felt so...real.. I walked onto you and atsumu.. and you told me that I'm a burden and you n-never loved me." I couldn't face her. I couldn't even look at her because of my ignorance and insecurities it truly was a pathetic sight for her to witness me this way.

Hot tears streamed down my face as I sniffiled.

"I know you always assure me that there's no need for me to be jealous or worry about him but it felt so real. I know that you'd be better of with someone who understood you better than I did. Act better than I did..hell even not doubt you because of something like this. "

my heart clenched at the next outcome. That being Her actually leaving me. I opened my mouth to speak only to be cut off by her "can I touch you?"

I looked at her nervously nodding like a small child as she pulled me into her arms hugging me while rubbing my back.

"I'd never dream of leaving you Kiyoomi. Yet alone be in someone else's arms.." I clung to her worried that if I didn't she'd leave me.

I cried softly against her repeating apologies while she rocked me.

"Hey hey Shh omi.. it's alright I know you didn't mean any of it. Besides I can't believe dream me cheated on you and with nasty ass atsumu out of all people" she fake gagged.

Making me laugh tearfully against her chest pulling away to look at her and she cupped my face in her hands making me look deeply in her so beautiful love filled eyes. Something dream her didnt have.

"There hasn't been a day that's passed where I don't thank god that you chose me out of everyone else omi. I'd be so stupid to throw away everything that you've given me." She smiled at me so sweetly it gave me toothache "i dont care if there are people out there who have no boundaries and arent afraid of germs and hell can touch me no matter what because those people arent you. I'd never ever lay in someone's elses arms kiyo..you're the one for me you know that right?" She looked back at me searching for a confirmation that I believed her so I nodded gently "It's always going to be you omi.. okay? I'm not going anywhere and you're stuck with me sadly." She giggled while a few tears were threatening to spill from her eyes my heart clenched this time because of her sweetness and care.

"I wouldn't mind being anywhere as long as it's with you y/n" I smiled at her as I brought my hand to her face and kissed her. The taste of her lips were always so intoxicating. So addictive.

And at that I knew it'll be okay. I loved her so much, with every muscle and bone in my body. But it was okay because so did she.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\\\\\~~~~~~

"How do you want the pork chopped?" I looked at her from my counter while she confusingly stared at me "omi... I don't eat pork." Oops I forgot that. And now I'm embarrassed that I did. "O-oh yeah sorry." Fucking idiot.. I thought to myself.

She giggled and hugged me from behind and kissed my shoulder peeking from the sides watching me as I chopped the pork. Smiling at her so familiar warmth.

"No need to be embarrassed you're not the only one who forgets it all the time you know" I rolled my eyes at her observant habit still smiling at her warmth but I wont let her slide that easy so I'll tease her "says the big baby who's clinging onto me like a baby koalo." She giggled against my back sending shivers down my spine. "Yeah its your fault that you're so handsome and cuddly." I chuckled at her reasoning she hummed as if she was in thought. "Oh yeah, Omi you wanted to talk to me about something was it me cheating on you in your dream or something else ?" She teased.

I got a bit stiff At the thought of even asking her to move in with me. She backed away from me as I turned around.

"Y-yeah.." she raised an eyebrow at me "so which one is it?" She asked eagerly crossing her arms "I-uh,," why was this so freaking hard to ask I scratched the back of my neck avoiding her gaze. "Move in w-ith me...?" I mumbled softly I felt my face heat up as I attempted to ask her that half ass effort.

She smiled that one smug smile I loved to see so much but I'll never tell her that.

"Speak up I cant hear you omi" I rolled my eyes at her and turned my back continuing with chopping up the pork. "Guess you dont want to.." I mumbled earning a small gasp from her and to leech onto me from the side hugging me tightly "no no no sorry I heard you yes I'd love that, actually I've been dying to move in with you but I can't just ask hey I'm going to move in with you so make room for me in your closet" she giggled and kissed my cheek lovingly making me smile. I looked up at her as she smiled so hard at me teeth and everything. She leaned in to kiss me.

Now or never.

"I'm also ready to have sex with you." I moved away to the freezer to grab something I can make her leaving her hangingon thin air. She almost choked on nothing blushing immediately.

"YOU WHAT NOW??" I smirked at her loud voice and shock.

"Is chicken okay?" And now her face turned sour in disbelief. Possibly redder too.

"YOU CAN'T JUST ACT LIKE YOU DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT!"

"I guess chicken it is" I shrugged smirking at her.

"KIYOOOOOOMIIIII"

At the end of the day i always knew that home was always going to be right here with her around me. I'm one lucky man to have her around me. But I've hit bulls eye with her love for me.

—----------------------------------------------—

Kiyoomi made you chicken soup that day. And he decided that today was the day to give you his all let's just say.. his insecurities weren't right at all about him. Even saying that he totally satisfied you wasn't enough to describe the feeling you felt. Now sakusa has grown addicted to how you feel around him. My guy is whipped and extremely horny for you.

—----------------------------------------------—

A/N: I LITERSLLY FELL ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS AHAHAHAHA anyway I feel like this isn't my best work yet but I hope that you guys liked it ;(;( I feel like there's not enough his pov content so I decided to make it his pov also this isn't my best work so I'm sorryyyy im insecure rn pls I hope yall enjoyed this thank you so much for reading !!

-kira

[taeminyourmind]

REVLON #015 x Taemin (A)

Genre: Angst

Synopsis: Afraid Taemin has been cheating on you, you finally muster the strength to question his loyalty and find yourself heartbroken by the complicated truth.

Word Count: 1.8k+

Pairing: Taemin x Reader

Autumn came in like a lion, its cold claws tearing into the city while its roar brings a ferocious wind. The gray clouds overhead roll like giant waves about to take over the city, blanketing every surface with a gray hue. Only the red, orange and yellow hues of the dying leaves provide color and life to the dull city.

Large raindrops begin to fall, splashing against the window into smaller drops. You barely crack a smile at the thought of nature crying along with you as you use the corner of a napkin to quickly wipe your tears.

“Why don’t you talk to Taemin about it?” Jongah asks before taking a bite from her blueberry muffin and wiping away the fallen crumbs from her shirt.

You scoff softly and roll your eyes. “And say what? Are you cheating on me?”

“Yes!”

“It’s not that easy,” you sigh, pushing your half-eaten omelet away. “I’m in love with him and I…” your voice trails off when tears sting your eyes.

Jongah reaches across the table and gently squeezes your hand, her eyebrows knitting together in concern over your falling tears. “Talk to him,” she gently whispers, encouragement lacing her tone. “I know you’re scared of heartbreak, but you’re allowed to know the truth.”

Each step you take towards your and Taemin’s shared apartment makes your stomach drop. Your fingertips nervously feel the grooves of your keys while your mind races through loops so fast that you’re not aware of the sounds of babies crying and arguments around you.

‘I can’t stand out here forever,’ you think before closing your eyes and jamming the key into the lock before slowly opening the door.

The living room is dimly lit with the TV providing the brightest light. You throw your jacket across the couch and look around for any signs of Taemin.

“Taemin?” You call out as you look in the kitchen and hall bathroom. You stop at your bedroom door, your hand resting on the knob. The thought of opening the door and potentially finding Taemin giving his love to someone else.

The thought causes you to shiver as you remember the day your world turned upside down. It all began the night Taemin came home from visiting his family.

A marathon of rom-coms has you glued to the TV while an array of snacks are spread before you. You could barely concentrate on the movie as you eagerly awaited the return of your loving Taemin, who's been away for a week visiting family overseas. You wanted to join him, but the increased demand of your job barely left you time for yourself or Taemin. You often felt guilty when you would come home and find Taemin asleep on the couch from trying to stay up late so he could welcome you home. But tonight, you managed to get the night off so you could be home to welcome him back with open eyes. You fixed his favorite meal and dessert for a night of relaxation.

The sound of the front door unlocking pulled your attention away from the screen. A wide smile spread across your face when a smiling Taemin stood in the doorway with the door closing behind him. He immediately dropped his bags and ran to you. His arms engulfed you in a warm embrace, lifting you off the ground while your lips kissed all over his face in between the whispers of ‘I missed you.’

He gently set you on the couch before he quickly pressed his lips against yours, moving them feverishly. No words needed to be said to acknowledge or understand the need for each other’s touch and warmth as you made love to each other on the couch. His sweet whispers of admiration, tender kisses, and touches sent you into euphoria, never wanting it to end.

The next morning began with a shared shower before Taemin offered to make breakfast. You decided to put away some of Taemin’s clothes from his bags when a gold tube of lipstick caught your eye. A smile appeared on your face when the tube glistened in the sun’s rays.

‘He shouldn’t have,’ you thought before taking the top off. Your smile soon faded when you noticed the lipstick has been used several times. Then, a faint smell of warm vanilla caught your attention, a scent you never wore.

The sound of your name being called stopped your train of thought. “Coming!” You tried your best to hide the shakiness in your voice.

You hurriedly placed the lipstick back in the bag and forced a smile before walking out of the room. Where his smile and laughter would’ve made your heart flutter, you couldn’t fight the hurt and confusion that haunted the back of your mind.

The memory feels like a punch in the gut as you try to even your breathing. Suddenly, that familiar vanilla scent taunts you before a voice has the chance to speak.

“___! How was brunch?” Taemin cheerily asks with a laundry basket under his arm. His face falls when you turn to him with teary eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

When he takes a step towards you, the scent becomes poignant causing the tears to fall down your cheeks. When you flinch at his touch, his gaze saddens in confusion.

“Who is she?” You ask shakily after a moment of silence. Your throat burns from holding back your emotions and your cheeks grow warm from Taemin's question of ‘Who?’ “I found used lipstick that I never use, a vanilla perfume that I never wear,” you pause for a moment, swallowing before finally meeting his eyes. “Are you cheating on me?”

The question causes Taemin to blink at a loss for words. He stands in silence, his eyes blank with emotion. “I’m not,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m having a hard time believing that,” you say flatly.

“It’s not easy to explain,” he says before grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch.

You sit on the opposite side of the couch, unable to look in his direction. The silence begins to feel suffocating until Taemin sighs and shifts in his seat.

“The lipstick you found,” he begins, “is mine.” You scoff and roll your eyes to his displeasure. “I’m telling the truth, ___.”

You remain silent for a moment, searching for the words that seemed to have quickly vanished. “And why would you own lipstick?” You slowly ask.

Taemin inhales deeply, rubbing his hands together. “It’s the only way I can still feel her lips on mine.”

‘Her?’ You think. So many questions swarm your mind before Taemin speaks again.

“Revlon #015. I can still see her put it on, her eyebrows knitting together as she glides the tube across her lips and I can still feel the beating of my heart when she catches me watching her and rushes over to kiss me, leaving some on my lips.” He pauses for a moment, smiling at the memory. “She would leave kiss marks on her love letters and spray it with her favorite vanilla scent from Bath & Body Works.”

The anger that rose inside of you quickly turns to sadness - for Taemin because he’s still in love and has been grieving the loss of his ex-girlfriend, and for you, because you’ve come to realize that his heart didn’t belong just to you.

“There are things I don’t want to forget about her, things I just can’t forget,” he softly says, his true feelings finally now allowed to come out. “And I can’t allow myself to lead you on anymore. I’m still in love with her and I love you,” he trails before clearing his throat. “I can’t, I can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t allow myself to do that to you.”

You swallow your sobs that want to erupt from your core. A sad smile disappears as quickly as it came as you muster the strength to finally look at the young man you love. His bangs hide his tear-filled eyes as he quickly wipes his tears away. You begin to wonder if you somehow forced him to begin your relationship before he was truly ready.

“I’m sorry,” you say weakly, your eyes falling to the floor.

Taemin looks towards you and reaches out to squeeze your hand. “I can never forget you or your love, ___. That’s nothing to be sorry about.”

You take a shaky breath before squeezing his hand back. ‘So this is heartbreak,” you think as you sit in silence, hands still intertwined. ‘They were right, it always gets you.’

A year has gone by since you’ve last seen or talked to Taemin. Every now and then you got the urge to contact him just so you could hear his voice, but that would’ve made the wound hurt more. Jongah was more than welcoming when she opened her apartment to you, even helping you move your things from your old apartment. For months, you lay awake thinking of Taemin and the memories you shared and the last hug you shared before you walked away, never to return.

It wasn’t until Jongah introduced you to her friend, Taehyun, that you thought about dating. When you met Taehyun, thoughts of Taemin no longer overshadowed your thoughts. Taehyun was like Taemin in his gentle ways, but you could see the unwavering look of admiration in his eyes when you were together and feel the excitement of being in your presence. With him, you felt your heart begin to be slowly repaired as he took everything slowly and did his best to comfort you and gain your trust.

The crisp autumn air causes you to shiver as you walk with Taehyun to your favorite lunch spot.

“Cold?” He asks. Wrapping his arm around you before you have the chance to answer.

The warmth radiating from his body pulls you closer. The changing leaves catch your eye as you watch one gracefully fall to the ground. A gentle bump against your shoulder makes you glance up.

“I’m so sorry,” you turn and begin to say. Your eyes widen when you see a familiar face. “Taemin?”

Taemin lifts his head enough for you to see his eyes from under his hood. A warm smile spreads across his face. “___,” he says before looking towards Taehyun.

“This is Taehyun,” you smile. The two young men shake hands bringing warmth to your heart. When Taemin inquisitively raises his eyebrows, you eagerly nod.

“You make sure you treat her right,” Taemin says, his tone stern. “She deserves the best.”

Taemin’s gaze brings a smile to your face. “It was nice seeing you.”

Taemin smiles, “Yeah, you too.”

Not knowing the right words to say, you bid him a farewell nod before grabbing Taehyun’s hand and continuing down the sidewalk. You refuse to look back as you cross the crosswalk.

‘My future is beside me,’ you think with a smile as you rest your rest on Taehyun’s shoulder and allow your fingers to intertwine with his.

[moonlightdreamzz]

empathetic — woozi

all you want, is for jihoon to care.

you always knew your boyfriend was more of an onion, and not a sunflower. what you mean by that, is that he had many layers to him, and he could not be pulled easily. if you wanted to peel the different pieces off of him, you had to work for it, but quite frankly you think you deserved a lot more than he had given you in the past couple of days.

you considered your body to be strong, but weak at the same time. you caught disease quite quickly such as colds, flu’s, and infections, but you also whooped its ass everytime. oddly enough, one of the things you looked forward to when you finally met your match was having someone to coo over your warm temperatures. a man who would surprise you with warm soups and extra blankets, who would also lay in bed with you no matter what was going on and give you kisses.

lee jihoon was not that man, which you knew, but you had no idea it would be this bad.

you were a mess - definitely not the prettiest sight you could conjure of yourself. you don’t remember the last time you saw your thick hair, which was never tamable on a good day, but especially for this past week had you just not been feeling any of your usual trials and tribulations of trying to figure out what to do with yourself. your bonnet had found itself halfway off your head from your tossing and turning through the night.

if you had the energy, you would crochet your hair. quick and easy timing, but also a cute look. jihoon also appreciated it on you, and you unfortunately lived to please him.

you weren’t dying at the moment, but you did have some concerning symptoms - a cough. so, symptom. of course your boyfriend did not bat an eye whatsoever for the past week as he scrambled through your home silently like the cute little mouse he was.

today is no different, but still your patience has completely ran thin. the penthouse you two shared was large enough so that whenever he wanted to hide from you, he could, and you knew that’s exactly what he was doing at this current moment.

when he finally walks into your shared bedroom ever so quietly, you can tell he was praying you were asleep.

“why are you hiding from me?” you question immediately. you don’t have much on, as you always got hot so easily. no shirt covered your body, just panties, but you and jihoon had been together so long that he was immune to your bare flesh. now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time the two of you made any kind of love. luckily you didn’t need sex all the time in order to be satisfied, but jihoon wasn’t giving you anything at all.

“huh?” he responds quickly - proof you were right. you hated how cute he was, especially when he had what you referred to as his “morning puff”. he always had a chunky, sweet little face, but when he woke up from long nights in the studio, it was extra squishy and normally you would enjoy kissing all over his adorable face, but not today. you were upset.

“have you not heard me coughing for the past week?”

he turns to face you now. you’re sure he had a flashback to the many arguments where you begged him to look at you in your eyes. at least he cared about something you’ve said to him in the past.

“i have.” is all he says. that’s really all he has to say?

“and you haven’t done shit about it?”

“why are you cursing at me?”

“because I’m tired of the non-chalant attitude.”

he sighs out loud. that was his way of telling you he had better things to do. even so, he crawls on top of the bed and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“relax, baby.” he encourages. “what do you want? i’ll order your favorite.”

this is what you referred to as the attempt. a very poor one, but an attempt never the less.

would it be wrong of you to ask for something home made? would that make you selfish? all of the other girlfriends gagged about whenever any minor issues went on with them, how the boys would cater to their every need like they were the queen of the entire world or something. why didn’t jihoon treat you that way? was he too comfortable?

“y/n?” he speaks, knowing you completely ignored his question in exchange for what if’s.

“nevermind.” you mutter, laying back on your California king.

“don’t do that.” he sighs. he’s irritated with you for sure, but what do you care?

“do you even care?” you question. “like seriously?”

“if I didn’t care I wouldn’t be sitting in this house with you. and I just told you I would buy you whatever you want. i don’t know what more you want me to do.”

“i want you to act like my boyfriend of a million years. i want you to coddle me and give me kisses and offer to wash my hair.”

“in what world is anybody allowed to touch your hair?” he questions seriously as his eyebrows scrunch together in completely confusion and irritation.

“does it matter if I would say no?”

he chuckles, but not in a way where he thinks you’re cute. you’re only making the situation worse in his eyes. “do you want the food or not?”

“do you remember when we first started dating?” you stand up promptly, your thighs rubbing together as you get closer to him.

“y/n, why do you expect me to be the exact same way I was when I first met you?”

“why do people have this weird belief that once you start dating for a certain amount of years that love has to slow down?”

“so you’re saying I don’t love you?”

“i’m saying i have been clearly sick for the past week and all you’ve been is cooped up in your studio like a damn crack addict. what I’m saying is, we are in a relationship but you don’t even care to ask me am I okay. i’m not dating you to still feel like I’m alone!”

“you do realize the only person who pays bills in this nice little house is me right? how else can I do that if not ‘cooped up in my studio like a crack addict’” he quotes directly from you.

“do you realize that you’re the one who told me I didn’t have to pay a bill in this house?”

“whatever.”

he tries to walk away, but you know it’s only because he hates to argue, especially recently. it was something about it that really pained him.

“baby.” you lower your tone from all the unnecessary yelling. you touch his hand, but he snatches it away so hard that you flinch and fall to the ground. “baby...” you whisper faintly, hoping that he’ll care. for once in a long time will he just care. but he doesn’t. with his pajamas still on does he snatch his keys and walk straight out of your - well, his apartment. he slams the door too.

you honestly couldn’t recall how much time had passed since he departed from your home. usually when the two of you fought, you could easily find ways to distract yourself while also ignoring your mild heartbreak from his actions. but for some reason, this time, you couldn’t stop thinking this may have been the end.

that was usually the case when you felt like someone was falling out of love with you when you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

you tried to listen to music. you tried to cook, but you sucked terribly at cooking Korean food and that’s all you had in your possession. you tried to sleep, but with everything running through your mind, that was impossible. so here you were, stuck with your thoughts.

you also still had the terribly annoying cough.

you didn’t have many friends here. the only people who checked on you were vernon, coups, and mingyu. you were expecting to get a call from one of them any second now.

like clock work, your phone is ringing. quite frankly you weren’t prepared to see Vernon’s name pop up on your phone simply because he was the one who called the least, but you didn’t mind. he always got you turnt whenever you were down, and even when you were fighting with woozi he didn’t suddenly treat you like you didn’t exist. he was always a neutral party.

“hello?” you say softly - your voice hoarse from the constant coughing you were doing.

“hey.” his voice speaks softly, “you alright?”

“yeah I’m fine, just not feeling my best. i have this annoying ass cough and it’s not going away and I’m also alone so, just fine.” you chuckle while burying yourself deeper into the bed if that was even possible.

“damn, you been smoking that good?”

“unlike you, I only smoke on special occasions vernon.”

“yeah whatever. how’s woozi? haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”

“he’s fine...I think. he’s been trying to hide from me but that’s been the norm lately if I’m being honest.”

“wait, you said you were alone.” vernon remembers, “we’ve been off all week where is your boyfriend?”

“you know...being himself.” you and vernon may have not spoke as much, but when you did talk to him, everything flowed out. every secret. it should be like this with woozi, but. “maybe it’s my fault.” you sigh, scratching your scalp from outside your bonnet, “i kind of...asked for a lot I guess.”

“like?”

“well, I’m not feeling well. i just felt upset because it seemed like he was purposely trying to avoid me so I wouldn’t have the chance to ask him to do anything for me. and the thing is, I wasn’t going to ask for anything but a lousy fucking hug - a cuddle. the bare minimum. i would have even taken a no but to be avoided? it hurt my feelings and we fought and—ugh. he stormed out the house and I have no idea where he is and I want to call him but truthfully what did I do wrong vernon? lately I’ve been feeling like I’m in a relationship with myself and I know we can be better than this. woozi used to be the sweetest little baby. he may have been hard to others, but he opened up for me. i feel shut out.”

you feel so much better getting all of that out, even though you know your boyfriend may have not appreciated the sentiment.

you know vernon listened to every single word and and would come back with some heartfelt advice.

“just give it time y/n. i can’t speak on jihoon like I am him, but if there’s one thing I know? it’s that you are the only person he truly loves that doesn’t share his bloodline. of course he loves us, but you - he opens up to you. he’s allowed you to see him. maybe there’s something going on. or maybe he just didn’t know what to do. just let him come back to you and see what happens.”

“thank you vernon. forreal.” you don’t know why his words affected you so much and made you feel such a heavy weight of guilt in the part where you held your boyfriend so deeply - your heart, but you did.

more hours had passed, and still no sign of woozi. you even tossed your pride away and called him, only to be sent straight to voicemail. you must have really irritated him, but you still didn’t feel sorry. you didn’t move your pride aside that much.

you did feel somber though, considering how much you loved him even through how he had been acting lately. and without him in your life, there was no reason for you to be here - in Korea. you didn’t want to end things. you just wanted to feel loved.

you still haven’t gotten out the bed except when you needed to pee. YouTube and funny clips had been keeping your company. maybe it was because of boredom, but things began to get darker and darker in your home. you were fading into a bitter sweet slumber. regardless, it’s what you needed. maybe your cough would subdue.

jihoon is quiet as a mouse as always when he walks inside, hands full of multiple things. all day had your words rang through his mind that was already full of so many things. had he really been making you feel so worthless? like you weren’t the most important person for his soul other than his family? actually, you were his family. there was never a day where he felt like he deserved you, but the minute the two of you kissed for the first time did he know that he would do whatever he had to, to keep you forever.

so when did he stop? he kind of knew he hadn’t been his best, but he didn’t know why. it was as if he was doing it on purpose, but not because of something you did. lately, it had just been so hard to keep up with everything in his life. all of the schedules seventeen had. and in between, as he was one of the frequent producers for the group, there were so many deadlines he had to meet he just felt so overwhelmed.

but he heard you coughing, and he was so worried. even so, he didn’t ask you what was wrong. why didn’t he ask you - his baby - what’s wrong? especially after it was day three and the cough was not improving? any other man who would practically rip his limbs off to be with you, would have been catering to your every need. they would have gave you all the kisses you needed, would have given you a full body massage, and offered to wash your hair even knowing that the answer was going to be no.

but he didn’t.

when he left, he was so angry. but not at you, at himself. vernon was the first person he called as he knew that while the two of you didn’t talk often, that he was the one who knew how to get your exact feelings. he hated how much of a wimp he sounded like when he had to bargain a song in exchange for vernon to call you. vernon declined and called you anyway.

to hear you on the phone, telling vernon that you felt as if you weren’t loved. feeling like you were in a relationship with yourself? that broke him. so, he called another one of his members who he knew would guide him into the right direction - mingyu.

“ill order everything, hyung. all you have to do is pick everything up. what you need to do right now, is practice your apology. oh, and pick up some cough medicine for her.”

so he did. his little body struggled to get everything inside, but he figured you would be asleep at this time. when you were bored, you had a tendency to doze off.

his instructions were to set everything up real nice on a table and serve it to you as if you were on a date, but woozi knew you better than that. he knew all you wanted to do was eat in bed and go right back to sleep. and talk.

he walks through the slim hallway that leads into your shared bedroom, and he was right. you were sleeping. the tv shined on your beautiful skin that he loved to place his cheek on whenever he felt any negative or positive emotion. he wasn’t sure what was on the tv. you probably weren’t either. you both loved to put on random movies and shows and talk about how much they sucked.

he approaches you gently - afraid that any little noise would startle you. he places everything on the fluffy sheets; the roses, your meal, your medicine, and the usb with the song he had been saving for you all lined up in orderly fashion. your bonnet is falling off your head as always, so he adjusts it. you had a pet peeve about that.

you were so beautiful. the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire life. and you loved him. you - the brightest star in the galaxy and the sweetest soul chose him out of all of the people you had attempting to steal your heart. he couldn’t let another second go by without fixing this.

“baby.” he whispers. his thumb caresses your ear gently. he always wanted to be this guy. the hopeless romantic, always knew what to do guy, but girls never wanted him. he was always too short, too boring, all of the bad things. you never felt that way though. you always told him he was the perfect size for you. that he wasn’t boring, it was just that people never wanted to take the time to get to know him.

you moved slightly, but he knew he had just only scraped whatever dream you were currently in. he had to try a little harder to return you back to the world. his lips find themselves on your sweet face, just as you do to him every morning. little by little is he painting his love on you until you finally begin to stir.

“are you a murderer?” are the first words you speak.

you were always so hilarious, even without trying. he knew that was a genuine question no matter how funny the delivery was.

“no. i hope not.” he responds.

he can see you recognize his voice from the way you release the breathe he didn’t even know you were holding. woozi expected you to push him off you the minute you realized it was him, but you didn’t.

“hi baby.” you whisper, pulling him into you.

“hi baby.” he repeats, inhaling your sweet scent. it always made him feel like he was in heaven.

you pull back, cuffing his chubby face into his hands. if there was one thing about your fights with jihoon, it was that it wasn’t hard to make up. a simple look in each others eyes was enough to make up for everything. it was such a toxic trait, but it worked out.

“wait.” you breathe out as you notice everything behind your boyfriend. “ji...”

“it’s nothing, y/n.” he sighs, moving back so he can have a full view of you. “it’s what I should be giving you every fucking day. you are my queen. you are the only thing that is keeping me sane with this lifestyle.”

“everyday would drive even me crazy, ji.” you giggle, “you know that’s not what this is about. it’s just, I know how we used to be and I know how we are now. i don’t want us to get so comfortable with each other that we forget why we are together. you know that happened to my parents and I want to be with you forever.”

“i know.” all of sudden he feels it - the feeling he’s been feeling for the past couple of weeks whenever something bad happens. his whole body feels sick. he hasn’t told you about it because he thought it would go away, but it hasn’t. it seems as if this is going to be the worse one as it does involve the love of his life.

“hey.” you sit up, throwing one of his shirts that laid free on the bed. “what’s wrong babe? i’m here. i’m right here.”

you had never seen him like this before. you knew there was no such thing as a person who didn’t have internal issues, but this seemed like something that had been wanting to boil over for a while. you knew what severe anxiety looked like as you suffered from it. this was it.

“i don’t know, y/n.” he breathes out shakily. “this has been...happing lately.”

“why didn’t you tell me? hm?”

“i don’t know. i don’t know anything other than that I love you. and that I’m sorry.” he seems to be calming down from your touch. had he known this was all he needed, all the pain he suffered would have never taken place. he should have known though. you were his angel after all.

“we tell each other everything, baby.” you remind him as you begin to place gentle kisses onto his neck. “never forget that. there is nothing we can’t get through together.”

“i know.” is all he can say - your lips were too much of a distraction for him especially when he hasnt felt them in so long. he always craved you, but the two of you always took a lot of breaks. your relationship was much deeper than your love making no matter how addicted the two of you were to eachother.

you want to get right into it. you want to throw him on the bed, and ride every ounce of anxiety your boyfriend has right off, and then you want to eat your food, take your medicine, and drift into what you know will be the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. but you two had to talk. everything needed to be squashed.

“ji, what can I do to fix this? i don’t like the way I’ve been feeling. and I know you don’t either.”

“you are perfect. you always have been. it’s me, but I promise I’ll do better. i’ll get everything under control.”

“you mean we will get everything under control. honestly baby, let’s not even use that terminology. we will learn to overcome this. anxiety is completely normal. you just can’t let it control you okay? and we have to communicate. don’t be afraid to show me any parts of you especially when you’ve seen my literal insides.” you joke, just to see his smile. he does, and it’s so bright. your foreheads lean into eachother immediately - natural just like your love.

“i love you.” he whispers.

“i love you.” you repeat. the two of you tried your best to not add too, to that sentence, as it meant in exchange for the other ones love and that’s not what was going on here. no matter what, the two of you loved each other. even if one stopped.

woozi goes back to buisness immediately, knowing you two were better now. his hands remove the covers that covered your body, and his tounge finds itself on your neck - his favorite place that’s not inside you.

“you feeling better?” he questions, still attacking you.

“i think this will distract me for a bit.” you giggle

“i’ll make it it all go away. you know I will.” are his final words before he lays on top of you, sliding his shirt off of your body with ease.

you were in for a long night. and the two of you still were in need of a conversation about what he was going through, but you knew what the both of you needed in this moment. you needed to feel each other again.

[ginanosakka]

I’m Sorry

Masterlist

I Hate It Here | Next

“How did you guys figure it out?” You sighed, dropping onto the bed and tossing your phone into the mess of sheets you couldn’t be bothered to make with the little sleep you ran on.

“I figured it out,” Katsuki said with a blatant possessive tone. “I know how you react to your old man, and you’ve made it clear that the bastard has no problem trying to kill you.” He explained, and you just nodded, deciding to disregard it in your exhausted state.

“Your dad gave me some off vibes back then, but I didn’t know just how bad it was. . I’m sorry all of this keeps happening to you.” Eijirou frowned, his anger seeming to simmer into pity for you.

Katsuki glared at him, “she doesn't need your apology when you didn’t do anything.”

‘They’d never really argue. . right?’ You thought, looking back and forth between the two silently.

“You’re right, but she deserves an apology from you. Katsuki! Maybe if you’d stop acting like that you two could get somewhere before someone else gives her the life she deserves!”

‘They would.’

“Okay, can we just-“ you were cut off by Katsuki.

“You don’t understand a damn thing, stupid hair! Don’t act like you know her,” Katsuki growled and took a threatening step towards Kirishima that he mimicked without an ounce of fear.

“I know that you aren’t capable of being a real man and admitting you’re wrong,” Kirishima bit back.

When a small explosion went off in Katsuki right hand you immediately put yourself between the two with you back to Kirishima, and your arms were held out in front of you to stop Katsuki. His piercing red eyes still didn’t meet yours, and you assumed he and Kirishima were having a stare down, but neither would make a move with you between them. Whether it was because they were still heroes even when angry or something much deeper, you didn’t know and this was no time to find out.

“Kirishima. . I need you to go for now. Thank you for sticking up for me,” you addressed the redhead.

You didn’t get a response for a moment, but after a while he muttered a quiet, “okay.” You watched as Eiji moved to leave the room with a final glance at you, and the moment he was out of the room you took a step away from Bakugou.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” you sighed once again and ran a hand over your face.

“. . . He’s right.”

You almost got whiplash from how fast your head whipped up to meet his face. Katsuki Bakugou looked absolutely guilt ridden, and you were sure your eyes had become the size of saucers looking at that expression on his face. Especially after he was just ready to blow Kirishima’s face off for saying what he did.

“I broke your heart and made you think you weren’t worth shit, I gave you a kid and left you to struggle for six years, and when you took the time to tell me and let me meet my kid, I forgot that what I made you out to be was a liar and spoiled brat when you were nothing like that. I-“

You tried to cut him off, “I’m over it-“

He glared at you, “stop fucking lying. I can see it everytime you look at me. You think about the day I told you that I was done pretending to like spending time with you. . that you were just some spoiled princess and the only reason I hung around you was because your father offered me a damn deal! I lied!”

Your world had been shattered before, on multiple occasions that left you in a near out of body experience from the sheer shock, not to mention the pain. The words that came out of his mouth made a numbness wash over your entire body, and you could only stare at his tears eyed face that was flushed with so many emotions. Was this the face that broke you all those years ago? This was why he couldn’t look you in the eyes when he brought your world to a stop? None of it made sense to you, but there was so little you knew behind the scenes of your entire childhood that came to light in bits and pieces.

“What?” Was the only word you could process, your brain just needing more information to make even one word of what he was saying seem real.

“I wasn’t supposed to care about you, I was just supposed to put up with you until you found something else you were interested in, that’s what my deal was with that bastard. I thought it was going to be easy, like babysitting sims little brat and then I’d get ahead of that damn half-and-half bastard and Deku. . but you were so determined to be around me, and I couldn’t find a single thing that was actually wrong with you!” Katsuki seethed, his hands curling up into fists at his side. “You were always there for me no matter what I said to you, and you didn’t care at all whether or not I was going to be the number one hero or just some loser. . and I hated myself because I loved you!”

“You’re lying-“ Oh, how the tables turn.

“I kissed you first. I know you remember that, and I know you remember how real that was, Y/N. You felt everything I was feeling that night.”

That stupid night.

It was just a regular night by your standards, you doing the most impossible task of entertaining Katsuki when something was plaguing his mind. You didn’t mind talking for hours to him, it made you feel useful when he would come to you with all these complicated emotions that you never experienced before. He had a bigger part in life than you, and you were just happy to ease his mind when his life wasn’t guaranteed.

“My tutor said I’m probably better at tricking him than any actual subject, and I don’t really think that’s a bad thing when I can get him to waste an hour telling me about his daughter’s first steps than teaching me math-“

“You talk too much.” Before you could retort back to him or even look at him, he had his arms around your waist and pulled you to lay down with him on your bed.

“If you wanted to cuddle, all you had to do was say something,” you smirked with a laugh.

The initiation of contact was enough for you, giving you the go ahead to grab his hand that wasn’t behind your head and gently rub it. It took months for him to be okay with you touching his hands so freely, and despite the fact that he said it was because he didn’t like touching, you knew he was scared to hurt you. It was the same way you knew he was hurting, or sad, or happy.

“You’re a little shit,” he responded with his red eyes glaring softly into yours, but you could see the small ghost of a smile threatening to show on his face.

“But I’m your little shit. I bet you if I was anything less than a little shit, you’d be bored of me. That’s why you’re always-“

Soft and warm lips pressed against yours, and you were flipped onto your back with him hovering over you. The flips your stomach was doing, the way your heart was nearly beating out of your chest, and the fog that was beginning to coat your brain left you whirling. He had never kissed you before, settling for rare hugs and gentle touches when you were alone that would kill him to speak about to anyone else. Your body was on fire, and just when you thought his lips would leave yours for good, they once again pressed against yours with fever and need that you were so unaware of before.

When his lips finally did leave yours, his face hovering just inches above yours, you could see the blush covering his cheeks that was accompanied by a cocky smirk on his face. “I said you talk too much.” He taunted before connecting the both of you once again.

You wished for nothing else but to be frozen in that moment.

“There was nothing in that deal with him that made me sleep with you. That night made me feel so stupid, because how was I suppose to love you and pretend like you weren’t being lied to and used by everyone. I knew if I were to come clean and say some stupid apology you’d accept it, you’d forgive everyone around you that didn’t deserve you. I had to lie to myself for days after that and tell myself all those horrible things about you, make myself actually believe them and do what was right.. What I thought was right- Damn it!”

He got onto his knees and you weren’t sure if your jaw was going to hit the floor first or your eyes that were nearly bulging out of your sockets. This was happening. Everything was beginning to make sense, your heart was hurting and your head was spinning, and Katsuki fucking Bakugou was on his knees in front of you. You didn’t know you were crying until your vision became so blurry you couldn’t make out Katsuki’s figure, but you could see that his head was down in shame.

“I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry, Y/N, and you should hate me. . but I’m not going to stop trying and I’m not going to sit here and let you take that bastard down alone. . and I’m not going to let someone else take my

spot without a fight.”

Katsuki blinked away the tears in his eyes as silence fell in the room, unsure of how you were reacting and if he had done the right thing by throwing his pride away. He looked up despite his fear and doubt, needing to know what was going through your head. Your eyes were closed now, the tears falling down your face at a slow pace. Your bottom lip was trembling, and he could see the smallest signs that you were shaking where you stood.

“Y/N-“ He reached out his hand to you, but in a split second his head was snapped to the left, the stinging on his cheek truly cementing what you had just done. He turned his head slowly back to you, expecting to see rage, but a goofy smile he hadn’t seen in years was on your tear stained face.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

(A/N: My favorite chapter by far. Really, this one eats.)

Taglist (Closed) <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki @notyourfavorlte @caramelsquares @hikaru-mikazuki

[silkling]

Thank you that's so sweet??? Aaa that means a lot-

I have thought of a few prompts actually,,

One being, TFA Prowl and Jazz where Prowl was some sort of fae creature that could disguise himself as a normal bot, and he got dragged to Yoketron. Either Yoketron knew what he was or he entered a deal with him by accident, but Prowl was like...honor bound to stay and learn from him after making that agreement. Maybe Jazz is there visiting as a previous student, and weird things about Prowl keep catching his attention.

The other was far more angsty- what if Sigma 17 were woken up earlier, like halfway through the war when their pod is discovered by an Autobot ship.. mby Blades' brothers are still aware and he can feel them, but otherwise they're just dumped straight into war. Poor bbys.

Oh my god. You. You just. You don’t know what you did. Cause I like, really like fae lore. So as soon as I saw that prompt my brain demanded it be written. But I also really like your other prompt. So I’m going to do them both! This one is the fae Prowl one. I’ll post the second prompt in another post. But seriously I’m going to have so much fun with this. You have no idea what you have unleashed in my brain.

———————————————————————————————————

Yoketron watched as the lithe, elegant youngling was hauled into his Dojo by Warpath. He arched a brow when he noticed the muzzle clamped on his face, and then was even more surprised when he realized just how much the mechling was capable of thrashing in the larger Autobot’s hold, despite the stasis cuffs clamped around his wrists. The youngling, a two-wheeler now that Yoketron was able to see him more clearly, was dumped on the floor and pinned under a heavy red pede.

“You sure you want to take this one, Master Yoketron? I really think he’s more deserving of the stockades, filthy little deserter.” Warpath snarled.

“Indeed, Warpath. I am quite certain.” Yoketron hummed. “I assure you, if he truly does not wish what I have to offer than I am quite capable of bringing him to the stockades myself.”

Warpath only grumbled, growling one more time at the small youngling, and then he bowed and left.

As soon as the weight on him was gone, the mechling’s thrashing kicked up a notch and he tried to sit himself up. It seemed though, that despite his surprising amount of maneuverability he didn’t have enough control of his limbs to actually do so. Yoketron knelt down, reaching out and pressing the release mechanism of the muzzle. It dropped to his waiting palm and he subspaced it, retracting his hand just in time to avoid razor sharp fangs snapping shut on his fingers. As it was, those deadly dentae clacked together harshly as the mechling’s jaw closed on empty air. Yoketron arched a brow, frowning. Odd. Usually it was only warframes who had such sharp fangs, and this little one was most definitely not a warframe.

Yoketron ignored the furious glare, casting a critical gaze over the mech laying prone on his dojo floor. At least he had stopped thrashing, though now his frame was so tense the armor plating was clamped shut too tight to get even a metal wire in between the individual armor pieces. Yoketron returned his gaze to meet the glowing visor, bright with the fury and rage that was strong enough for him to practically taste in the youngling’s field.

He hummed as if to himself, reaching behind him to undo the stasis cuffs, only to stop when fangs pierced and dug into the armor of his forearm. He shot the mechling an unimpressed look, his free hand reaching and digging fingers into the soft protoform of his face behind his jaw. His body almost spasmed, his mouth forced open, his fangs and lips stained with Yoketron’s energon. The ninja master ignored the fear that started to sour his field, as well as the way his ventilations increased until he was panting harshly, mouth forced open and glaring helplessly at the older bot. Instead, he reached out again, removing the stasis cuffs, then releasing his jaw and straightening as he stepped back.

He watched the young mech get to his pedes, his movements graceful and elegant even as his field radiated rage and fear. Yoketron found his optics narrowing faintly at the way his every movement was soundless. There was no shifting metal as he rose, to whirring systems as his frame shifted and settled, so sound of pedes against wood as he got up and stood straight. It was…off. Not enough to make a normal mech think anything was wrong, but just enough to get Yoketron’s attention. Combined with his fangs, it was starting to paint a picture. Not to mentioned the slightly tapered finger tips he had noticed as he’d removed the stasis cuffs. Fingers that flexed and clenched, and Yoketron noticed a half-second flash of sharpened claws before those hands relaxed and returned to normal. Yes, he was most definitely starting to get an idea of what this mechling was.

“Hello, young one.” he rumbled. “May I ask what you were doing hiding on Dojo property?”

The youngling growled, shifting towards the door. Yoketron let him. “What do you think? Trying to stay out of the war.” he barked. “It’s not my fight, after all.”

Yoketron hummed. “Perhaps not.” he agreed. “But those in charge will not see it that way, and will see you as little more than a traitor for not answering the call to fight. I am taking a risk in doing so, but if you wish to avoid the fight them I can offer you another option.” he stepped towards the youngling, optics narrowing. “So long as you are willing to learn, I would take you on as my student.”

The youngling snarled. “Fat chance! I’m leaving.”

“Certainly.” Yoketron agreed. “If you can make it to the door before I stop you, then you will be free to do exactly that, and I will ensure any and all charges against you are dropped.”

The youngling eyed him dubiously, but seemed to decide the risk was worth it because he was transforming and taking off in the next second. It had been a silent transformation too, which had raised only further alarm bells. Yoketron waited until he was close to the door, and then he moved. In a flash, he appeared in front of the mech, and a hard kick sent him tumbling out of his alt mode. Another kick, and he was flying back into the cabinet, which fell on top of him. Yoketron walked over and heaved it off, crouching to pin the mechling by pressing a hand between his shoulderblades.

“You have potential, little one. But if you are discovered and caught by the authorities then that shall all go to waste.”

Abruptly, the struggling form under his palm stilled and tensed, all anger leaving his field to be replaced by fear. “…what do you want?” he whispered.

“Your name, youngling. I believe Cybertron has lost enough of your kin. I have no desire to see another perish unnecessarily. The rest of the planet may be blind to it, but I am well aware of how necessary you are to the functioning of our world.” Yoketron said calmly. The yougling’s actions had confirmed his suspicions. He truly was one of the fae, a breed of Cybertronian long believed to be only myth.

The youngling was shaking faintly now, obviously frightened. Yoketron couldn’t blame him. While most civilians thought the fae to be the subjects of story and myth, any mech involved in government or military knew they were real, albeit very, very rare. There was a reason for that, a very unpleasant one, and it certainly didn’t help that any fae were were discovered were often captured and simply…never seen again.

“You know what that would mean.” There was an agonized note to the youngling’s voice.

Yoketron felt a twinge of regret. He did know, and it wasn’t something he was eager to do. But given the circumstances, it would be the best way to ensure this one’s safety. “I do.” he confirmed. “I promise you I will not abuse it, youngling. I seek only to ensure your safety and to see you grow. I cannot simply allow you to go so easily, for if I did then I would be questioned as to why I did not bring you to the stockades and it would bring more attention to you. This way, you will remain safe.”

“Then why offer to let me go in the first place?” he demanded.

“I believed it would make you feel better to know you had at least made an attempt.”

The youngling abruptly went limp, his field still fearful, but now also tinged with a dull resignation that made Yoketron feel a little sick to his tanks. He did not want to do it like this, but for the mechling’s safety was truly the only option, with the way Cybertron currently functioned. “Give me your name, youngling.” he encouraged, voice gentling.

The young bot reset his vocalizer, and looked up to lock his visor with Yoketron’s optics. “My name is Prowl.” he answered, and he could hear the reluctance as the young bot spoke.

As Prowl gave his name to Yoketron, his optics glowed a bright white for a brief moment behind his visor before fading back to normal. Yoketron himself felt a small pull at his spark, recognizing it as the tether that now bound Prowl to him. He lifted his hand from the fae’s back, watching him slowly rose to sit up. “I take your name to be returned to you when your tutelage is done, Prowl.” he said, and the bond that was latched against his spark strengthened and solidified. “Go. Past the door on your right is a hall. Turn left at the end, past the door there, and you will find the berthrooms. The one with the black door is the student’s room. You may call it yours while you remain under my care.” he said, voice gentle. “Rest. I will clean up here. Tomorrow, your training begins.”

There was a tug on his spark, ans he realized quickly that he had worded that too close to an order when Prowl winced, cringing back from him but obeying nonetheless. Yoketron frowned, distaste curling in his tanks. He would have to learn how to word what he said very, very carefully so it could not be viewed as an order. He knew the bond he had established by taking the fae’s name meant that Prowl would be compelled to obey what he was told, but he had no intentions of abusing that. It would be wrong to do so.

The youngling stood, then turned and left through the door. Yoketron listened to his pedes fade away, and then he himself was standing. He hadn’t expected his day to go like this, and he disliked how he had had to take on his newest student, but he couldn’t regret having done so. He did not want to see another fae fall just because Cybertron’s elite refused to understand them. With a heavy sigh, he retrieved the broom from the corner and began cleaning. Tomorrow would be a long day.

——————————

Prowl found himself curled up in the berth after he had cleaned himself up in the washracks attached to the room. His spark felt heavy with the new bond tied around him, and he further tugged the mesh blanket wound himself as he thought about it. He hadn’t ever intended to get caught. He had snuck into the Dojo grounds because they looked mostly empty and he’d thought it’d be a good place to lay low while army “recruiters” were sweeping through the streets. The last thing he wanted was to be forcefully drafted. Being around so many mechs who he knew knew about the fae…well, he was good, but he also knew he’d probably have gotten caught eventually.

He had hidden himself well, even using magae to keep himself as undetectable as possible. But then that red mech, Warpath, had seen him as he’d been attempting to sneak into another area of the Dojo, and….that was that. He’d been swiftly pinned and cuffed, and when he’d kept trying to bite, the muzzle had been locked around his face as well. He hadn’t expected to be brought to the Dojo Master, and he had even less expected that the mech, Warpath had called him Yoketron, would know what he was. He was even more embarrassed about being caught because when Warpath left, he realized the large bot just visiting. But he had been caught, and Yoketron had trapped and bound him with his own magae, and now he was here. At least the older bot had promised that his name–and freedom–would be returned after he was finished being trained, but Primus only knew how long that would take.

It was days like this when Prowl loathed his heritage, loathed the fact he was a fae. He had been proud of it, once. Fae were beings of legend, after all. Stories said that in Cybertron’s early days, even before the great cities were built, fae and normal Cybertronians lived alongside each other. It was said that fae were gifted the abilities beyond that of a normal bot, including tapping into the world’s natural energies. They were able to feel this energy and occasionally draw on it to perform feats of great power. Fae also wielded their own unique form of energy, called magae, that allowed them to perform what most bots would call “magic”. Magae was what made up the entirety of a fae’s abilities, it was what made them fae. Magae came from a fae’s spark, was comprised of the energies and power of their own life force, and they could use it to connect to the sparks of other bots. Usually, that would entail taking a mech’s name and binding them to yourself. Though if one knew how, the process could be reversed, and a mech could take a fae’s name and bind them to themself, as Yoketron had done to Prowl.

He couldn’t blame the older mech. The part of his processor that was more logical could even be grateful. His reasoning had been sound, after all. There wasn’t really a way for Prowl to walk away from this without unwanted attention, without risking discovery. He knew what would have happened if he was discovered. The rest of Cybertron may have forgotten why the fae disappeared, but his people remembered. Fae had been powerful. Chosen by Primus to maintain the planet’s natural order and help ensure prosperity for His children, which included themselves. For a time, it had been fine.

But then mechs had begun to fear to extent of what fae could do, disliking that they were capable of tapping into the sparks of others. And so the fae had been hunted. To avoid extinction, his people had fled and disappeared, going to the shadows and staying there until they were eventually forgotten. They built up their own society, separate from the rest of Cybertron. Prowl remembered it, a little bit. He had been sparked there, but…somehow, he had gotten separated from his people and place of origin, and he’d never found his way back. It was hidden from the people of Cybertron, and any fae who got lost from it and didn’t know the way back would remain stranded outside forever.

That was what had happened to him. He didn’t remembered how, but…he did know his creators had been taken, or perhaps offlined, and they’d hidden him just before being caught. They’d never come back, and he had remained stranded from the place he’d been sparked in. After that, he was told he was found by a civilian family from Praxus, who brought him to a Youth Center there. Once he was big enough to take care of himself, he’d fled the Center, wanting to try and find his way home, but…he’d never been able to. He’d been in his own ever since.

Now, he was stuck, bound to a mech who claimed to want to see him safe and strong but he didn’t know if Yoketron was telling the truth. He could only hope he was. The alternative was that the old mech intended to use the bond for his own gain, or to turn him in, and Prowl…Prowl didn’t want either option. He sighed heavily, swiping a hand across his face, his visor set on the nightstand by the berth. His optics were a normal blue, though what made them stand out was the markings around his optics. It was why he wore the visor. The most distinctive features of what he was were his fangs and claws, but those were easy to hide, and the markings around his optics. Every fae had markings somewhere, he knew. He had just been unlucky enough to have them on his face.

The youngling sighed, forcing himself out of the increasingly depressing spiral. It couldn’t be changed. He just had to adapt and learn. He was good at that. He tucked himself into a tighter ball, knees pulled to his chest and mesh clutched tightly around his form. He closed his optics, trying to calm down enough to recharge. Today had been a very bad day. He just hoped the days to come wouldn’t follow in the pattern.

——————————

Prowl woke the next day to a quiet knocking on the door. He startled awake, feeling out of sorts and groggy as he pushed the blanket off him and sat up. That was when he remembered the events of the previous day, and he flinched away from the door and looked down. So, it was time to get up, he supposed. He sighed, then swung his pedes out of the berth and padded to the door. Upon opening it, he found the hallway to be empty, but he picked up the sounds of…something at the end of the hall, in the opposite direction of what he was thinking was the main room of the Dojo. He stepped out, closing the door behind him, and walked towards the noise. He came to a sliding door, and when he opened it he found what appeared to be some sort of dining room.

Yoketron was already there, setting two places at the table with fuel. When the door opened, the old mech looked up. “Ah, Prowl.” he greeted. “You look well, today. I am glad.”

Prowl squirmed uncomfortably, nodding. “I….yes.” he said lamely.

“If you wish, you may come and sit. I typically share morning fuel with my student before I begin lessons, when I have one under my care.”

Prowl blinked, realizing there was no order in that phrasing. Maybe Yoketron really wouldn’t take advantage? He nodded, sliding forward, closing the door behind him as he went, and sitting on the cushion provided. Yoketron hummed, satisfied, and went to the opposite end of the small table to take his own place.

“I wish to apologize, Prowl” he said. “Binding you to myself was not how I wished to take you on as my student, but from what I have learned of fae culture over my life I believed it to be the best way to ensure you remain safe and undetected.” he explained.

The two-wheeler looked uncomfortable, but he nodded regardless. “There’s nothing I can do about it.” he sounded resigned. “I get it, I suppose. I know how dangerous discovery is for one of my kind. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy.”

“And I would not ask you to be.” Yoketron said patiently. He swallowed down some of his fuel, his gaze locked on the lithe youngling nibbling at his own meal. “I only wish so see you survive and grow strong enough that you can defend yourself.”

He took no offense when Prowl didn’t answer, and they consumed the rest of their meal in silence. When they finished, Yoketron stood. “If you would, I would appreciate if you cleaned your dishes and followed me. I will show you were you can put them, and then we can move on to your morning lessons.”

Prowl nodded, gathering his now empty dishes and following the old mech. He noticed once more that Yoketron had not phrased his request in a way that it might be interpreted as an order, and he felt grateful. While he still wasn’t happy about how things had turned out, he was starting to believe that just maybe the bond wouldn’t be abused after all. And if Yoketron was really telling the truth, then Prowl would someday be able to keep himself safe. He still wasn’t sure of this situation, and he didn’t trust Yoketron, but if things continued to be like this then maybe his time here wouldn’t be so bad.

——————————

Prowl was meditating. He did so fairly often these days, as it made his natural energies settle in a way they usually didn’t. Fae were constantly connected to the energy of Cybertron, and sometimes it was nice to let own own spark settle in a more peaceful rhythm as he let the energy of his world wash over him and surround him. It had taken him a while to learn the patience to do this, but he was glad that he had eventually managed. His processor settled, ventilations deep and even as he blocked himself out from the outside world. Why should he not? He knew he was safe here. He had nothing to fear.

A hand pressed to his spinal strut, between his winglets.

He jerked, his processor snapping back to itself as his optics abruptly snapped open. He let out a loud, startled yelp, helm shooting around, and his gaze locking on mech who was smiling faintly, expression wry and amused.

“Master Yoketron.” he did not wheeze, thank you very much.

“Prowl.” His master greeted, tone warm. “I apologize for startling you. I thought you would wish to know that it is time for afternoon fuel. It would be best to take it, I believe. The lessons I have planned for the rest of this orn are rather difficult.”

Prowl released a heavy, relaxed vent. He nodded, the harsh light of his optics dimming behind his visor as his systems realized he wasn’t under attack. “Of course, Master. Thank you for coming to get me. I apologize for not keeping better track of the time.”

Master Yoketron only shook his head. “Of course, young one. I understand the importance of meditation. I would not think to force you to stop early when I can prepare the fuel myself.” he hummed. “Though,” he cast his student a look. “I would appreciate if you did continue to prepare the fuel with me, in most cases.”

Prowl nodded, standing up and following his Master out the door of the small meditation room and down to the dining hall. “I would not think to abandon one of my tasks, Master Yoketron.”

“No, I do not think you would.” The old mech agreed. They stopped in the dining room, taking their respective seats. After a moment of silent eating, Prowl’s mentor spoke. “You have come very far since you first came to this Dojo, Prowl.”

Prowl paused, drawing back a little under the intensity of the gaze pinned on him. Yes, he supposed he had. He still wasn’t pleased that his teacher had had to take his name and bind him to himself to get him to stay, but he understood. Besides, he had come to like it, here. The old cyber-ninja was kind and fair, and he had never once forced Prowl out of his comfort zone or tried to abuse the bond, not a single time in the vorns since the fae had been dumped at his pedes. He stayed now because he wished to, not because he was forced to. The bond was still active, and Yoketron still held his name, but he had come to see this place as home and no longer tried to trick the cyber-ninja into breaking the bond. His Master still held his name, but Prowl would stay even if he did not.

“I suppose.” the fae said after a moment. “I am grateful to you, Master Yoketron. Even if I am not pleased as to how it happened, I am glad you took me as your student.”

The older mech relaxed, expression softening. “Indeed, young one. I feel much the same.” he murmured. “Now, I believe it is time we finish fueling. It will be a long orn yet.”

Prowl nodded, then picked up his cube of energon and took a sip. He didn’t know what his future would hold, but he, for once in his life, looked forward to what the coming stellar cycles would bring.

——————————

The coming stellar cycles, it turned out, would bring one of Master Yoketron’s former students. A mech named Jazz, who according to his mentor was visiting the Dojo for the Festival of Adaptus, and he intended to stay for the full deca-cycle the Festival took place on, as he was granted leave by the Elite Guard to do so. Yoketron had told him that Jazz had been his most recent student before he had taken in Prowl, and that the young cyber-ninja was apparently quite eager to meet their shared mentor’s newest disciple. Prowl wasn’t opposed to the visit, not at all. But in the vorns since he’d come to the dojo, he had relaxed and become more at ease, and so his magae itself had also become less tense and volatile. All that really meant, though, was that, now that he knew he was safe and at home, his instincts would let him behave in the way he wanted to about the Dojo’s guest.

Jazz didn’t know Prowl was a fae. He didn’t even know that a fae was in the Dojo. Which meant Prowl would be able to really mess with the mech and confuse him while he was here. He didn’t let his more mischievous tendencies be known often, but Prowl was a fae, and his people reveled in tricks and mischief. And now that someone new was coming, someone who wouldn’t know to anticipate it like Yoketron knew to, after living with Prowl’s rare pranks?

Well, Prowl was going to have some fun with Jazz.

——————————

Jazz didn’t know what he was expecting when he met his old Master’s newest student, but it most certainly wasn’t for the lithe mech to thrust out a hand, palm up, and say:

“Hello. Master Yoketron has told me about you. Would you like to give me your name?”

Now, the phrasing of the had been real funky, but Jazz hadn’t had time to think on it or even to tell the mech his name before Master Yoketron was putting a hand over his mouth and shooting the black and gold mech a very unimpressed look. The two-wheeler had huffed, arms crossing.

“I wasn’t actually going to do anything, Master.”

And Primus, but he’d sounded petulant. Jazz still didn’t understand that whole interaction, but then Yoketron was stepping away and the bot offered his hand out again. “My name is Prowl, and you may use it as a friend.” he’d said.

Upon getting no reaction from the Dojo Master, Jazz had stepped forward and taken his hand. Again, very funky phrasing, but Jazz was starting to think maybe the mech himself was just from a different walk of life than he was. “Name’s Jazz.” he’d introduced himself, and thinking that the second part of Prowl’s introduction must be important to the mech, he’d found himself copying it. “Feel free to use my name as a friend.”

The words had tasted oddly stiff in his mouth, but before he could say anything more Master Yoketron was shooing his student off to do some chores, and then he’d led Jazz to the berthroom reserved for Dojo guests.

Which, was where the Polyhexian now found himself.

Except…the berth was stood vertical against the wall. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was how Master Yoketron was storing them when they weren’t in use? But then, why hadn’t it been put back horizontal before he had arrived? Jazz was very confused. He shrugged, moving to pull the berth back down. Maybe his old teacher had simply forgotten, though Yoketron had never forgotten anything before. Old age, then? Yeah, Jazz would sooner believe that Ultra Magnus enjoyed bar fights.

He still had no idea how the berth had gotten like that, but maybe things would make sense after recharge. So, he slipped under the mesh blankets and let himself slip into unconsciousness. He was sure things would be less confusing when he was operating at his full abilities.

The next morning did dawn, and Jazz had woken up making the choice to just forget about the berth incident. He might ask his mentor at a later date, but for now he’d focus on just enjoying his time at th old Dojo. He slipped out of his berthroom, remembering from his own training that right about now was when the morning fuel was prepared. Sure enough, he slipped into the kitchen to find both Dojo residents preparing their shares. Jazz went to do the same, and after a a breem all three of them were seated at the table.

Jazz turned to Prowl, smiling. “So, mech, how’re you liking it at the Dojo? I heard through the grapevine your arrival here wasn’t exactly ideal.” he offered, remembering what Warpath had told the rest of the cyber-ninjas.

Prowl paused. “…it was not ideal, you are right.” he confirmed. “I am grateful for Master Yoketron taking me under his care, however. I find the Dojo pleasant.”

Jazz chuckled. “You’re a pretty well-mannered mech, aintcha?” he teased playfully. “I’d almost think you came from nobility.”

Prowl, amusingly, looked very offended. “It does not do to be impolite.” he sniffed.

Jazz smiled. “I ain’t disagreeing with you. But you can relax, you get me?”

Prowl simply stared at him, then scoffed and returned to his meal. Jazz didn’t take it personally. Dai Atlas was pretty stiff too. Some mechs just preferred structure and formality. Yoketron, as he often was during mealtimes, was silent. The rest of their fuel was consumed in that silence, and then Prowl and the Dojo Master were cleaning up and going off to the morning lessons. Jazz remembered those. They had been very….straining. He stood, cleaning his own dishes and then going to mediate until the other two were done for the morning. Plus, he hadn’t been able to mediate properly for a while.

A couple joors later, Jazz was done and got to his feet. Yoketron ans Prowl should be finished by now too, he knew, and he decided to walk though the garden to get to the main hall. Except…there were some odd metalli-plants in the garden, arranged in a perfect circle. Jazz didn’t recognize them, and he found it odd that they were planted that way. He could also detect a very, very faint energy coming from the circle. Curious, he walked over, intending to get close and touch the plants to examine them, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

He looked back, seeing Yoketron, and his old teacher looked exasperated. “Prowl, I would appreciate if you would not attempt to trap Jazz in your circles.” he called out.

Prowl stepped out from the Dojo, almost looking like he was pouting, and the odd energy around the flowers disappeared. “You’re no fun, Master. I wouldn’t have done anything.” he grumbled.

Yoketron only shook his head, and invited Jazz to join them for some basic katas now that morning lessons were done. He agreed, but tacked that onto his mental list of weird things going on at the Dojo. He thought that would be the last time. It wasn’t.

That night, when he went to the washracks, the solvent came out mixed with glitter. Jazz barely avoided getting a very sparkly makeover. Then, the next orn, he kept getting lost. Master Yoketron had to rescue him from the meditation chambers after the 12th time he ended up there trying to get to the dining hall. After that, his Master having to stop Jazz from accepting fuel that Prowl had offered. Then, he’d woken the next orn to find his berth was gone. Just….gone. Even though he’d been in it. The odd things kept stacking up and up, until finally, half-way into his stay, he learned what it all was.

It was when Yoketron, Prowl, and he were fueling after the morning lessons. Prowl and Jazz were talking, and then Prowl had said the words that made Jazz feel very, very stupid:

“Words have power, Jazz, so of course phrasing is important in proper social interaction!”

He forgot what they were even bickering about, staring at the rotten little trickster in front of him with a gaping mouth. “You’re a fae.” he realized. How had he not figured it out sooner? Master Yoketron had taught him about the fae. All cyber-ninja knew about the fae! Then a new thought struck him. “You stole my berth!”

Prowl blinked, and he seemed to relax when Jazz’s reaction to the revelation wasn’t fear or an attempt to turn him in. Only indignation. “I will not apologize.” he deadpanned.

Jazz stared, and then a grin stretched his lips. “You clever, tricky little glitch.” he said playfully, enunciating each word. There was no genuine malice in his tone. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

——————————

Prowl snorted as Jazz regaled him with yet another story about his new superior officer, a mech called Sentinel Prime, and his immense stupidity. They were in Iacon, and it had been a long time since Prowl had been so far from the Dojo, which was in the outer edges on Praxus, on its own land. But he’d come to a pause in his training, as Master Yoketron had sent him on an optics quest. It was, apparently, a major test in the life of a cyber-ninja. It would allow him to discover what he wished to do with his life, as he was meant to travel and experience new things and explore, and when he had the answer he would return to the Dojo. And then he would begin a new level of his training, according to his teacher.

So he was in Iacon currently, enjoying an afternoon with Jazz. It had been many vorns since that fateful Festival of Adaptus, and the two young mechs had forged a strong bond. So when Prowl’s optics quest had brought him in the direction of Iacon, he’d commed the older mech and asked to be shown around. The fae was nervous about being so close to the headquarters of Autobot High Command, because he knew what they did to any of his kind they discovered, but he was confident in his abilities to remain hidden. Plus, he had Jazz, and he knew the white bot wouldn’t let him be put in danger.

They were sitting at Jazz’s favorite cafe, enjoying a selection of energon treats, when Prowl felt it. A tug at his spark. The bond he shared with Yoketron went two ways. The older mech held most of the control, but Prowl could still sense his mentor through it. It was one of the reasons he had come to accept it. And now…now, Yoketron’s spark felt like it was sputtering, like the mech it belonged to was in pain and his life was in danger. Prowl didn’t stop to think. He threw down a fistful on shanix, and then grabbed Jazz’s wrist and dragged him away.

His processor was racing desperately, and he couldn’t even manage to answer his friend’s questions. He dragged them to an empty alley, and then closed his eyes, focused on his magae, and dug deep.

Every fae had a pocket plane of their own. It was like a bot’s subspace, but it wasn’t a subspace and it was large enough for a mech to go in to. It was like…a small sub-world of sorts, and only a fae could access it, and each fae had their own. The sub-world could be used as a quick method of transport. As long as the location one was trying to get to was on the same planet as they one they had left from, then a fae could use to to travel large distances in almost an instant.

Prowl had never accessed his, before. Oh, he’d tried. Countless times. But he’d never been able to. But now…now he had to. It was the only way they could get to Praxus, to Master Yoketron. So he dug inwards, pushing far, far deeper into his magae than he’d ever done before…and he stepped forward. He came into his sub-world, bringing Jazz with him, and the other mech was silent now, gaping im shock. He kept going though, and focused on Praxus, on the Dojo, and stepped again. Then, they were there. Prowl stumbled as he came to a stop in the Dojo, releasing Jazz and tripping onto his face. He didn’t notice when his visor was knocked loose as he shifted his gaze to try and find his Master.

Prowl and Jazz were frozen for a single sparkbeat at the scene they’d come into. A large mech with a hook in place of one hand and markings on his face was standing over their mentor. For a moment, Prowl thought the mech was fae. But he detected no magae from him, and the moment passed.

That was when the rage came. He snarled, his engine roaring his anger, and his claws lengthened to their sharpest, his fangs sharpening to their longest, and the golden markings around his optics glowed a brilliant, pale silver while his optics themselves glowed white. He surged up, and in the next sparkbeat he was between the mech and his master. He extended a hand, deadly claws resting on the mech’s chest plate, and before that hook could swipe at him he peeled back his lips, put his magae into his voice, and hissed a command.

“Stop.”

It wouldn’t hold for long, he knew. Without the mech’s name, the order wouldn’t hold much power. So, Prowl used the physical connection, and pushed with his magae, digging with his very spark into the core of the mech’s being. He had to be careful, he knew. Like this, it would be so easy to destroy, to rip the mech’s very soul apart and kill his being without even extinguishing his spark. But Master Yoketron had always warned him against using his powers to hurt others, telling him he was meant for greater than causing pain and suffering. Even if Prowl didn’t believe that, he still wanted to honor his Master’s wishes and his lessons. So he didn’t rip and tear and rend, like the more feral of his fae instincts demanded. Instead, he dug in, until he had what he wanted, and wove a strand of magae into the mech’s spark energy to ensure the bond would take.

Then he pulled himself back, and as the mech regained mobility he met those red optics and bared his fangs. “I know your name, bounty hunter.” he spat. “I know who you are, and your name is mine until such time I decide it is mine no longer. I have your name , Lockdown, and with it I have you.” Claws dug into metal armor as the mech froze, optics blown wide with shock.

“You will stop this, and you will leave, Lockdown. Now.” Prowl ordered in a snarling hiss.

Lockdown was tense, but the bond that Prowl had tied around his spark and the hold of his name over him forced him to obey. He stopped, and he left. It was only when the Dojo was silent that Prowl began to calm. He sagged, slowly releasing a heavy vent, and turned to the other two mechs. Jazz had helped Yoketron sit up, his helmet already returned to him, and both were staring.

“Uh, mech? What’s with the light show?” Jazz asked softly.

“Light show?” And then Prowl noticed the lights.

Small, glowing spheres of light and energy filled the room. Dozens of them. He gasped, reaching out to the nearest one and tapping it. It burst into flame, and Prowl jerked back. The flame burned out, and a new light replaced the old. Prowl hesitantly tapped another of the spheres, and this one burst into mist. It was then he understood what this was.

Every fae had a unique magae ability. It seemed these spheres were his, and each of them did something different. But what was the use, if he didn’t know which did what? Except….he did know. Or at least, his spark did. This was an ability born from his magae, from his spark. So….if he let that guide him..he would know.

He took a deep vent, focusing, and his gaze locked on one sphere floating to his right. He cupped his hands around it, bringing it to his mentor, and crouched by the older mech. He held his hands out, the sphere glowing above his clawstips.

“This one should help you, Master.” he said softly.

Yoketron hummed, then reached out and pushed his fingers into the light. It flared, dancing up along his frame, and small cracks and wounds in his armor sealed up while the heavier injuries lessened slightly in severity. He perked up too, as if he was given a boost of energy, and was able to stand up on his own after a moment. Prowl and Jazz followed suit, but before either could say anything another form burst into the Dojo.

“Master Yoketron, are you-“ the mech cut himself off, staring at the scene. “….I saw smoke coming from the Dojo?” he said, uncertain.

Prowl tensed, optics narrowing, but Jazz slid in to calm the situation. “It’s alright. We managed to deal with it.”

The mech’s uncertain gaze looked around the Dojo, clearly confused at the lights, until his optics found Prowl. Then they lit up with understanding, and recognition. He obviously realized what the fae was. But…he stepped forward anyway, holding out a hand. “You’re Master Yoketron’s student, right? My name is Springer, and I give it to you freely to use as you wish, though I hope you would use it as a friend.”

Prowl startled, not expecting a mech to give his name so easily. He had to cut the tie to his magae so it wouldn’t try to latch on and bind the mech. He took the offered hand, careful of his claws. “You are well met, Springer, and I would be pleased to call you my friend. My name is Prowl, and I offer it to you to use as a friend in turn.” he said smoothly, then stepped back.

Jazz grinned, throwing an arm around Prowl’s shoulders. “Nice, Prowler! But are you ever gonna explain what in the Pit you did? Cause I’m still trippin’ over tryin’ to figure it out.”

Springer cut in. “As much as I’d like to know too, maybe now isn’t the best time. We should clean up before the Elite Guard figures out something went down here. Prowl, that means you might want to cut your magae off, we don’t want you getting found out.”

Prowl tensed, but nodded stiffly. He could do that. He took a vent, closing his optics and relaxing. After a moment, the spheres started winking out, and his fangs and claws returned to their hidden states. His optics and markings stopped glowing, and he opened his optics to look for his visor. He quickly noticed it was broken on the floor, and he was about to panic when Jazz caught his attention and held out his own visor. His optics were bare for once, and Prowl found himself staring in quiet awe for a moment before a resetting of a vocalizer from Springer snapped his focus back. He snagged up the visor, slipping it on and shooting Jazz a grateful look.

“Great!” the green mech was smiling. “Now, let’s figure out this mess!”

Prowl hummed. “I believe I have an idea. Springer, if you will, I believe you and I would be best suited for cleaning up here. Jazz, would you mind helping Master Yoketron?” A glance back showed their mentor leaning against the far wall, seemingly in a meditative state. “And call in a medic, his wounds still need to be treated.”

The other two glanced at each other, and for a moment Prowl thought they wouldn’t take orders from an ungraduated student, but to his surprise they nodded and got to work. Prowl felt himself smile, and fell into place with Springer to clean up the mess Lockdown had made of the Dojo’s main hall. He had been worried that he wouldn’t find his place once he graduated the Dojo and left his Master’s care, but he was starting to realize he would have a place after all. He would find his acceptance and his purpose in the Cyber-Ninja Corps and the mechs who he would one day call his brothers-in-arms. He was sure of that now. He looked forward to it. For once, Prowl knew that his future was bright, and he was eager to meet it head on.

(Yoketron watched his youngest student interact with two of his others, and felt pride swell in his spark. Prowl had come so very far from that first orn, when he’d been a half-feral youngling trying to flee the world itself. He’d known he had made the right decision in choosing his successor when he’d seen how Prowl handled Lockdown, and when he’d seen how easily and freely he had accepted Springer as a comrade. Prowl was going to far surpass him one orn, was going to be a far better Master of the Cyber-Ninja Corps than he ever was. Yoketron couldn’t wait to see it.)

———————————————————————————————————

And there it is! What did you think? I hoped you liked it. I had fun. I like it. Fae Prowl is a little troll and you can’t convince me otherwise. Anyway, that story is finished! Yoketron lives, because I said so. Also, Prowl and Jazz totally become a thing later. Absolutely no one is surprised.

Aaaaannd…I think thats it! Yep, I’ve said the important stuff.

Until next time, folks!

[lovee-infected]

For the anon talking about how they hate how over exaggerated a character is. I am not trying to start hate or anything, but if you don't like the way how someone portrays the character, just stop reading it. Some people don't delve deep, they just want to write fanfics for fun they're not going to make sure it's 100% the characters VERY complex personalities. Or the way how they view a character is different from their beliefs. I've gotten this message before and I am TIRED of it

I think it's a good time to talk about this because I've been thinking about bringing the topic up for a while. To begin with, let's clear something between the two anons because I think it's a misunderstanding:

Note: Please read this, this is important.

Anon A is saying that they're sometimes bothered by how some fanfics and Aus have a different way of picturing character X, in other words, they don't really enjoy it when a character is bring mischaracterized

Anon B (this anon) is saying that if you're bothered by a fic because you don't like how they're characterizing an specific character, then you don't have to read it.

Let me say that both of these anons are right, yet to think that their ideas are the opposites of each other, is totally wrong. In other words they both have a point, but I guess their points needs a stronger a better way of being explained in order to avoid any further dramas and misunderstandings.

Why am I doing this? Because I've seen -enough- of it. After the twst character analyses, aruges toward the mischaracterizations in this fandom became a thing, it's been causing some issues and arguments between the fans and it's mainly because of how sides fails to explain their points clearly.

Though I didn't really receive any rude asks/comments regarding myself the matter I can still how some fans feel attacked, offended or called out by character analysis posts or have the NERVE to attack or offend others with their own perspective on characters and try to force others into accepting them.

Enough with drama, I'm sick of it. I'm going to explain this as clearly as I can, hopeful that this would at least lessen the chance of having to go through another drama regarding the mischaracterization issue.

1) The concept of FANfiction

First off, the fanfiction itself; what is a fanfiction? What type of writing is considered to be a fanfic? What is it even used for? These are the questions we all need to answer before getting to know the world of fanfic.

Just as its name explains, it's fan + fiction. It's the result of the fan's creativity and imagination taking place in a fictional plot, something that hasn't happened with the original characters and he original story. The fans' imagination is often far beyond the plot which the original story/series/book offers, yet this isn't going to hold fans back from imagining it. Fanfiction is the way of giving yourself (or others) the specific and plot with the original and canon version isn't going to give you, in other words it's a way of getting what you wish to see through a story but this time, it's you who'd decide what will happen.

You are the one who decides how characters will be, you are the one who decides how and where this story happens and you are the one to choose how this story must come to an end. It's all about your own imagination and creativity, which enables you to have power over everything about your own story and fanfiction, everything (In expection gor than legal issues including claiming the original character as yours). You have the power, and you choose how it should be.

2) Fanfiction and mischaracterization

This was mainly the most brought up issue in the recent Twst drama, mischaracterization through writings. Many were saying how they find this annoying and nerve-wrecking, but no one really talked about how mischaracterization comes to life.

Let me tell you, as long your writing is a fanfic, there is a 70% chance of mischaracterizing the plot or the characters and there's nothing wrong with it, that's just how fanfiction works! It isn't supposed to be canon, it is fanon and only fanon. Everything that happens is fictional and fanon based, in other words, it's the fan who decides what should happen in a fanfiction and how it's supposed to be!

One of the Fanfiction's best purposes is giving the fandom a chance to mischaracterize! To write the characters the way they wish them to be and not necessarily the way they truly are. Fanfiction allows us to imagine and create something that isn't true, so let me clear my point here: It's totally okay to change the characters' personalities in your fanfics! As the writer, you have the right to do so, and since writing a fanfic must be for your own pleasure in the first place, no one can stop you from imagining whatever you want! No one can jump out and say stuff like "YOU CAN'T MISCHARACERTIZE A CHARACTER IN A FANFICTION" because that'd be super lame. It's your own fanfiction, your story, your creation and you're free to mischaracterize if that's how you like it to be! And if anyone doesn't like that, remember that they don't have to read that.

3)What is the problem?

Look, we've been going through some drama because of the recent character analyses of twst fandom, and I'd like to explain why. First off, note that I think both sides of the argument have been wrong and I'm going to talk about both of them.

Let me begin with a small example: It's been argued that based to what we've seen from Leona's personality so far, he doesn't seem to be the type to love healthily or even easily fall for anyone. Some of the fans seemed to be offended by the statement and said that "They still want their Leona fluff no matter what everyone else says" okay okay, this is the problem I was talking about: Saying that canon Leona doesn't seem to be much of a fluffy lion or a sweet lover isn't equal to forbidding the fans from writing fluffs for him or picturing him as a adorable and gentle lover! No one has the right to hold fans back from appreciating and enjoying what they like! But it's important to know what exactly is happening.

I'll talk about some crucial points you need to know about character analyses and how it's different from a fanfic in part (4), but before that, let me continue to give some examples of the recent argues and how each of the sides were wrong.

A) You enjoy reading fluffy Malleus content but character analyses have been saying that he isn't as soft and cute as you'd expected him to be. Does this mean that you can no longer ask for wholesome Malleus content or enjoy reading them? -> Of course not! You're still free to read/imagine/write whatever you like with Malleus! No one has the right to tell you what to do, and character analyses aren't meant to be a way to hold you back from enjoying what you like! If you're enjoying something, go for it! In this fanon world no one can accuse you for not following the canon interpretations!

B) You've spent a rather long time getting to know Ace and his canon personality, and you really like the way he is! But by reading fanfics/ fandom's interpretations on him you can't help but to feel like they aren't giving his personality the justice he deserves, and aren't seeing the great and amazing character he truly is. Is it okay to feel upset about this? -> Just as I said, it's totally fine to have your personal interpretations of a character no matter how different the rest of the interpretations are! But the real question is: what should you do when you think fandom isn't doing a character justice? This would be answered in part D!

C) You are enjoying your personal ideas and headcanons with Idia and many are saying that your way of picturing him is so adorable! Does this necessarily mean that the canon Idia as well is like you describe him? -> Absolutely not! No matter how adorable an Au/headcanon is, everyone's free to enjoy it but you should remember that canon ≠ fanon. You are totally free to imagine whatever you'd like! But keep this in mind that you shouldn't insist on your ideas being necessarily canon!

D) You feel like many are mischaracterizing your favorite character and you don't like it, what should you do? -> Well to begin with, remember that other fans have the right to characterize a character just as much as you do! You can't stop them from doing what they like or expect them to change the way they are because of how different the canon interpretation of a character might be. But you as well have a great chance to inspire the fandom by your own ideas! You can try to discuss how different the canon personality of your favorite character is and even try to turn that into a character analysis! This way you'd not only avoid causing any drama because of disagreeing with someone's way of picturing your favorite character, but you will also have a chance to present your personal ideas and characterizations to the fandom in a friendly and polite way!

E) You don't like how an author is characterizing some of the boys, what should you do? -> Easy solution, don't read it. Let me tell you, I have gone through this a lot and do you know what I do whenever I read/see something that doesn't match my tastes and expectations? I keep scrolling! That's all, I don't have to like it, but I don't have to read it either! 😀

F) You're an author and a writing request is asking you to write for a character in a way you just can't or don't want to write because that goes totally against your idealistics and ideas on a character, for example: You just can't write something really wholesome and fluffy for Leona because you can't imagine him being like that, what should you do? -> It's obvious, then don't write it! You have the right to choose what you'd like to write and how you like to picture a character no matter what others think. If you want to picture Leona as an emotional and soft boy, it's totally okay! If you want to picture him as a cold-hearted and mean prince, again it's totally alright! Remember, just like fans you have the right to picture and characterize the characters the way you want to, and no one can tell you otherwise!

G) You've read a character analysis and you realize that you've been mischaracterizing Floyd for a while, should you feel bad or sorry about it? -> Of course not!! Even if you were mischaracterizing him, keep this mind that there's nothing wrong with picturing Floyd as the way you want him to be! As long as you don't claim your headcanons to be canon and share stuff like "Canon from is definitely like this" or "Floyd would do that, canon! ^-^" it's totally alright to imagine him the way you like!

H) You saw someone saying something about Malleus that didn't match the canon interpretations of him. You quickly replied to then and corrected them about their wrong point of view and tell them how the real Malleus is, which kinda led to and argument between you and the person, did you do the right thing? -> Absolutely not! Attacking others out of nowhere and without any context isn't the right way of introducing the canon characterizations to the fandom! Even if you were right, keep this in mind that the other person has the right to picture Malleus or any other character the way they want them to be so if you want to correct them or try to get to know the canon character interpretations, you should do that from the logical and polite way.

I) Someone wrote a character analysis for Idia and said how they find it so annoying when people who refer to Idia as "Baby" and "uwu beanie". You often refer to Idia as baby or cutie yourself and the context of that analysis/general post some how got to you. You feel lowkey attacked and offended, did the original poster say the right thing? -> No, matter what the context is or how accurate and well-written that analysis was, directly calling people who have a certain way of picturing a character "Annoying" is rude no matter how you think of it. Even if the original poster were right about Idia not being UWU, their way of wording their sentence wasn't really pleasant; keep this, in mind that everyone in the fandom is free to picture Idia as they like and it doesn't even matter if you don't like it or not! If you're going to write an analysis/essay regarding a character's personality, remember that you should prove your point and disagree with opposite opinions through logical reasoning and explaining your point, NOT by offending and attacking other ideas by savage contexts like "You have to stop saying that Idia is like this", "I hate it when people say Idia is like this", " It's so annoying to see people saying Idia is like this... "

4) What's with the character analyses then?

There's a difference from the canon and fanon interpretations of a character, this is a truth which cannot be denied. But it's important to remember that just because a canon interpretation of a character exists, you can no longer enjoy the fanon interpretations!

Even I, for example, enjoy picturing someone like Malleus as an purely evil being like Maleficent herself because I enjoy seeing him as a perfect figure for "Mister of all Evil", but in my Malleus analysis post I explained how we should NOT think that Malleus is nothing but pure evil or a heartless monster! See, this is the difference I've been talking about. I'm pretty well-familiar with the canon Malleus, but I'm also enjoying the my own fanon Malleus and I know that the Evil Malleus I admire is a fanon one, not the canon one!

The thing is, character analyses aren't meant to be a way to hold anyone back from enjoying their fanon interpretations or imagining what they like, they aren't call out posts either. They are simply a way of getting to know the characters as if you're getting to know one of your irl friends. You come to think of them, see how deep their personalities are and get to learn more about them!

It's true that reading a character analysis might make you realize that you've been somehow mischaracterizing a character but this, isn't anything to be sorry or frustrated about! Character analyses are written to learn us more about our favorite characters, or as I like to name it, they want to show us that they're a lot more that we may imagine them to be!

Now, you may wonder how can we write a good character analysis without getting out of the line, offending anyone or giving out any cheap information?

I, personally, am pretty strict when asked to do a character analysis. Doesn't matter if I like the character or not, I'd try to judge them nonetheless. You HAVE to talk about both good features and bad features, and you must strictly avoid your analysis from getting personal; you have to make sure that your personal thoughts, feelings and emotions regarding a character aren't effecting your analysis. You shouldn't be writing it in a way to show off with your analytical ideas either.

Some people think coming off as rude would make them sound valid and acceptable, or they might just be used to being a little offensive in general, but as I explained in part 3-I, I won't recommend using any harsh or mean languages at all. Let me note that your way of wording your ideas is crazily important and if you're not careful enough with what you say and how you describe your ideas, your post would be not only be not much helpful as an analysis but also a cause of more drama and arguments. Also, keep this in mind that even the best of character analyses can't totally catch the characters' personalities correctly because we do not own them! Twisted wonderland's characters are a property of aniplex and neither me not anyone else in this fandom has the right to claim what a character is 100% like unless Disney officially releases those details!

Writing character analyses can be hard, from finding enough of hints to defend your point to choosing the right Grammer and way of speaking to avoid any further misunderstandings. But remember, those who write character analyses have no right to attack anyone because of them (They can oppose to different opinions of course, opposing ≠ attacking ), but keep this in mind that readers have no right to attack then because of their analysis either! See, that's a two-sided relationship. Both of the, sides have to learn to respect, both of the sides should, know, their boundaries and both of the sides have to be respectful!

Warning: When I say you're free to do or imagine whatever you wish to do, know that posting and sharing writings too has its own rules. Make sure to put the proper warnings, and avoid using any taboo or clearly impolite and sometimes, illegal concepts such as incest, pedophilia, etc.

I actually had a lot more I wanted to say regarding the matter but I'm keeping it short, because I know that writing too much would make this boring and pretty hard to read. Hope that it's clear enough and avoid the possible future misunderstandings and arguments regarding the matter. Please, this isn't even about twst, it's about learning to respect each other it's about real life. Having people read THIS is a lot more important than having them read my character analyses or writings.

[minkmousesworld]

Hi could I request for a Daki x reader that the reader has the same type of personality as tanjiro, and gets angry when someone flirts with daki.And daki loves both kind and angry side of the reader. I Don't know if its up to me or its up to you that this will be NSFW🔞 but if its not a problem that i kind want this to be nsfw🔞. Love your headcanons have a great day. Stay safe everyone.

hello, sweetie! thank you for your request♡ you didn't specify au, so I chose it myself. feel free to send another request if you want a different au!

Modern AU: Daki x Reader [SFW & NSFW🔞]

"I'm not jealous"

warnings: "soft but not" reader, jealous, a mix of scenarios and headcanons, smut under "🔞👑🔞" & "🔞👑♥️"

You couldn't call yourself an evil person. Or even irritable. It was as if you were born to be a kind and caring ray of sunshine, returning candy to children and taking cats out of trees.

Of course, everyone has their "moments", but you hid your own deep enough that others did not notice.

You have always preferred to smile, solve things peacefully and behave not aggressively.

Aggression is the way of the weak, right? Why be aggressive when you can be friendly? Everyone will get what they deserve.

Even if you did not believe in such words, the environment that adheres to the morality of "everyone will be rewarded", put a certain imprint on your personality, making everything less evil and dangerous.

Daki didn't really believe in such "sugar words". The most cunning and the strongest survive.

With her bright nails, pink phone cover, and stockings that she kept taking off because she hated them, Daki was as provocative and aggressive as a "cute girl from a not-cute family" could be. Although she wasn't physically the strongest, her cunning and charm were enough to be considered a dangerous opponent.

No one dared cross her path.

But even if people were constantly wondering if Daki had forced you to start dating her through "blackmail or threats of violence", you loved Daki.

And you knew that she truly loved you, even if you weren't a "good match" for the people around her.

Daki loved you, even though people said she should have chosen someone more... appropriate to her status. Usually she was rather rude to send people and be sarcastic when they climbed into their business.

Although she was undoubtedly no less surprised than others at her infatuation, when you, instead of hitting the offender and stopping similar situations in the future, preferred to calm and negotiate.

Daki never understood how she had fallen in love with someone so gentle and peaceful.

"All you have to do is buy a van and stop washing your hair, because you are already the epitome of 'Make love, not war!'"

"Daki, honey…"

But Daki loved that part of you. Your disdain for useless aggression delighted her rather than repelled her, even if she didn't agree with you on some issues. After all, perhaps your (strange) thinking has its positive side, even if it doesn't suit her?

Daki considered your thinking strange not only because of your peaceful moods even towards obviously hostile people and animals, but also because of your aggressiveness.

It is particularly aggressive.

This was a regular incident at first — people wanted to see if the information that you were dating was true. The more reserved and less modest asked directly, the less reserved and less modest... "went straight", focusing on the reaction.

What is the easiest way to cause jealousy? Flirting. And if they were rightly wary of Daki's reaction, then you… No one was afraid of you.

What can you make of the worst? Will you shake your head in displeasure? Will you say that you can not do this? You are more harmless than rabbits, which only the grass is afraid of.

It was safer to provoke you.

Until you left a bruise on the skin of the guy who tried to touch Daki while flirting.

You didn't want to hurt them! This is an accident! You are absolutely harmless!

You just didn't expect that someone would be smart enough to try to touch your girlfriend in your presence without permission. It was self-defense.

Even when you wrapped your hands around the collar of a very tall guy's shirt and asked him in a soft, calm voice not to disturb your girlfriend anymore.

Or when one of the girls explicitly flirted with Daki, hinting at sex, and you politely asked not to do so again. It's uncivil to flirt with a lady who already has a partner.

You weren't jealous.

You just didn't like this behavior towards Daki, because your girlfriend should be treated with respect and, at the very least, not try to start a romantic relationship with her while you are dating.

Daki said the opposite — that despite your jealous nature, she loves you, giggling playfully. You continued to deny her silly accusations of jealousy.

You weren't jealous.

You trusted her completely, and you certainly weren't jealous of the people who seemed to be around her all the time, especially those who didn't just hang out with her with harmless intentions of making friends.

Daki, on the other hand, saw your jealousy and dissatisfaction with the attention she received from other people.

She was sure that you had a gentle and patient nature, and has already accepted that she is now dating an "angel", but the angel suddenly turns out to be quite an earthly creature. You just didn't see what Daki looked like when she first noticed your jealousy.

She so obviously enjoys your reaction and emotions when again "some loser" tries to flirt with her. And you're kind of ashamed that you react so violently to such harmless things, but you just don't like this attitude from other people.

Although Daki likes to play on your nerves and see you territorial and jealous, she knows when to stop.

At least, she hopes she knows.

Your mind will always be a mystery to her, and Daki tries to think like you would, but she would rather hit the offender than hold out the "flower of peace". Therefore, in the intervals between flirting with you and leading an active social life, she tries to figure out what needs to be done so that this is a "red signal" for you to end your relationship.

"If you were offered a million dollars for letting a kitten out on a deserted street during severe frosts, would you agree?"

"Daki, honey…"

The way she tries to tease you by using others, how obvious it seems to be some kind of cunning plan that no one understands.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you jealous?"

No one dares to flirt with Daki after you get mad at one of the unlucky fans.

🔞👑🔞

warnings: rough sex, bite / marking, mention of public sex, petting, slightly smut

Daki likes to provoke you not only for the sake of reaction, but also for the sake of thrills.

She doesn't mind soft sex, but there's something exciting about biting her neck, or leaving marks on her chest and collarbone, or bringing her to another orgasm so that she screams out whose girl she is.

Even if your passionate impulses make her wear stockings to hide the marks on her thighs.

There is nothing wrong with teasing your jealous nature, if after you do not hesitate in the idea of "starting foreplay in the subway". Daki will not call herself a fan of public sex, but there is nothing wrong with you touching her breasts, getting your fingers under her black bra, or getting under her panties.

Or grab her arm and push her against the wall, biting her almost painfully. Daki knows that she can push you away and you'll listen to her, but it's just so exciting when you're so annoyed that you're ready to take her right now, in a human desire to possess her.

That you are not so reserved and peaceful when someone flirts with her. She's your girlfriend, right?

🔞👑♥️

The club's bathroom smells strongly of smoke and sickly sweet, cheap perfume.

Daki, playfully kicking you with her foot, shamelessly teases you, telling you how that cute guy was staring at her all the time you were in the park, or how that cute girl was making eyes at her while you went for ice cream, and was already intending to go to Daki and get a phone number.

"And what will you do? Will you thank them for looking out for me?"

One day, she will definitely drive you crazy with her caustic words.

"I swear, I didn't even think before that I could go so crazy with feelings. You're just a ticking time bomb"

Daki only smiles coquettishly in response, comfortably wrapping her arms around your neck, and spreads her legs, causing the skirt to lift higher, exposing her hips.

"Then why don't you take care of your feelings?"

It's almost cute the way she shivers under you, trying to scratch your back, and whispers to you to stop acting so jealous.

You deliberately don't touch her, leaving touches on her sensitive thighs decorated with your hickeys and on her breasts — red and irritated from the stimulation.

Daki is almost on the verge of starting to caress her clit on her own, pulling her wet panties aside, but you deftly grab her hand, not letting her touch her body, and passionately kiss.

Daki bites you in return, but squeezes your hair and doesn't let you break the kiss. And unsuccessfully tries to pull her hand out of your grasp, fidgeting in place to get at least some satisfaction.

With a little pressure on her panties, you pull away from your wild lover — ruddy, panting, dissatisfied and angry.

"Look, honey", you whisper, licking your bitten lips, "didn't you tell me I was jealous? Well, now let's show everyone how jealous I am. With your moans, of course".