#ive become too much of an asshole

[inkyquince]

Nothing is worse than if I come across an excellent summarised fic with sexy ass tags and then the first line is a clunky, grammatically off sentence that we're taught in high school on how to avoid

[gophergal]

Life on the farm

[iftitah]

.

[fappellmoan]

i dont wanna be a dick and act like i have no responsibility in this but after a point dont u think if all you ever say to ur friend is Omg you never make it out why dont you ever come out with us you bail all the time youre such a flake etc. dont u think that person (me) is like. not gonna feel so inclined to. be there

[raksh-writes]

Clearly, Daemon has been painted a villain the first few episodes and I kinda hate to say it but they've definitely succeed at making me Very Strongly dislike him :')

(I fucking hate that guy, oh my god)

[phagodyke]

was gonna say smth else but this turned into a vent sorry everyone just ignore. typical weekend post on this blog u know how it is here we go👍

[stunie]

ok so i hit 30 tags pretty early so i wanted to add extra thoughts under here i am SOOO SORRY OMFG ITS SO MUCH 😭😭 GOD

attempt 1 at reading - thoughts:

i love how you wrote the nervousness and hesitation of both reader and atsumu ): this relationship feels so genuine and realistic, like every thought is so real and complex and it all just plays out soooo vividly in my head. i can literally feel every single thing in MY SOUL. it got me holding my breath, my heart racing, my stomach churning

the kiss . the first kiss where mr suna interrupted . when i tell you i read it like this >//////< EXCEPT MY HAND WAS CLASPED SO TIGHTLY OVER MY MIUTH. oh my god the reaction i had. it really felt like a first kiss all over again, i was genuinely WARM and all blushy

attempt 2 at reading - thoughts:

i loved how u wrote out the tension again .. and your characterization for all of them ?? kita being all observant? osamu being all curious ?

the emotional rollercoaster i am on in this chapter is crazy. i took my first break after suna interrupted (the kiss killed me), and im taking my second break right after atsumu confesssd (i was killed a second time). i was irritated during the cafe bc WHY r u avoiding me, and then the next second i’m like squealing 😭 the way that u write yue !! the way that u write . i am such a mess right now give me another moment

attempt 3 at reading - thoughts:

holy shit this scene . the kissing ? THE AAY YOU DESCDIBED IT from the first kiss ?? this one made my stomach FLIP omfg .

oh god the neck kisses . the .. the everything . my left leg has goosebumps idk why it’s only my left leg am i okay yue ? am i okay what’s wrong with me

i have a little ways to go i’m almost done but i need yet another break holy shit i have been reduced to a dizzy lil mess what have i become

attempt 4 at reading - thoughts:

oh my god ): oh my god ): what am i even supposed to say here. i love how u wrote the smut part ?? it feels like actual love ? he is so sweet pls

osamu interrupting had me jolting upright BECAUSE SUNA FIRST NOW OSAMU ? is kita the next victim ?? poor baby

AGHHH THE ENDING IS SO CUTE i fr feel like im in an anime ): i feel so pretty and so lovely THIS WAS SO LOVELYYY TYSMMM YUE FOR WRITING THIS

v. MISUNDERSTANDINGS

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: vi. Epilogue: Sakura sweetness | series masterlist

synopsis: A drunken conversation with Atsumu leads to a cascade of events that has your mind practically exploding with endless questions, and with the way Atsumu has been acting, you want clear answers, and you’ll get them one way or another—even if it meant arguing in the twins’ shared apartment on a late Thursday afternoon.

chapter content warning: college au, mentions of alcohol use, intoxicated characters, cockblocker suna (rip), angst, hurt/comfort, awkward tension, atsumu & reader are dumbasses, arguing, light smut (mdni; nothing too explicit), nsfw, implied unprotected s*x, fluff towards the end yay, kita graduates from uni!, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, friends to lovers, not beta read.

word count: 6.1k

notes: AAACKKKK last chapter!! also happy 1 month to this series !! i’m surprised i got to finish this in less than 2 months lmao considering how slow i am w writing :< divider: cafekitsune.

Light. Everything felt light—your head, body, voice, heart.

It felt like all the weight of your shoulders had been lifted, and you could be as carefree as a bird soaring through cerulean skies to be one with the wind. Because right this very moment, nothing mattered at all, not even the fact that you stood before the person you’ve been trying to avoid since the new year rolled around.

Tucked neatly at the back of your mind like a silent reminder, you knew you shouldn’t trust your intoxicated self right now—whether it be your thoughts or feelings but the urge to stop wasn’t there, and you felt extremely optimistic about this—all thanks to the burning alcohol that clouded every bit of your judgement.

Everything felt right.

As you met his caramel gaze, your vision tunnelled, everyone, and everything that surrounded both of you slowly turned into nothing but a mix of hazy hues, upbeat music that spilled from the speakers fading into the distance as you, and Atsumu entered your own world—even the orange-haired male with the bright, doe eyes melted away from your view.

Just you, and Atsumu, exactly how it was supposed to be.

With a bated breath, Atsumu wordlessly nodded, and awaited your next move, as if shackled in a hazy trance. He was fully aware of the thundering heartbeat that rang in his ears, the way his slender fingers ever so slightly dug into the scarlet plastic cup in his hand, cheeks burning with unexplainable emotions.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.”

It took all the effort for Atsumu to ignore the feeling of your bare skin against his, the searing touch of your fingers around his wrist as you hurriedly whisked him away into the intimate space of their kitchen, as if to shield you both from everyone else’s prying eyes. Despite a stained judgement, the blonde was sure no one gave a single damn if you were to talk it out in the living room, everyone was in their own buzz anyway.

Nonetheless, Atsumu let you take the lead, whatever you wanted, he obliged. As though he was floating on cloud nine, his body became lighter with each step taken, head lightly spinning, warmth that radiated from your palm seeped into his flushed skin, prickly, miniature kisses engulfing his body.

“I’m okay now.” Resting your lower back against the ivory granite countertops, you stare up at Atsumu through your lashes, not noticing your lingering fingers curled around his wrist. For a brief moment, your breath hitched, stomach churning at the sight before you. The lighting behind Atsumu made him look like absolute heaven, flaxen strands glowing like the first rays beneath the warm illuminant, casting an ethereal halo at the back of his head. It didn’t help how he stared down as if your eyes held the cosmos in them, completely awestruck.

Whatever, you chalked it up to his intoxicated state. What else could it have been?

For a brief moment, Atsumu wracked his brain for context behind your words, and as the invisible lightbulb atop his head switched on, he was reminded of the situation at hand. It definitely pulled his consciousness into sobriety. Just a tad bit.

“A-are y’sure?” A breathless, almost dainty whisper slipped past his rosy lips. He took note of the way your gaze shifted ever so slightly downwards, eyes crudely lingering on the plush of his bottom lip as his tongue briefly swiped against it.

Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bobbed at your not-so-subtle stare, stomach churning with want. He knew this feeling all too well—it visited him whenever he was alone in his room, mind wandering over to thoughts of you which filled every corner of his mind; sometimes the feeling was too strong, other times he could bear it. Tonight, though, Atsumu wasn’t sure if he was immune to this feeling, let alone erase any impulsive thoughts from his intoxicated mind.

What pulled you into this decision was something you’d never figure out; maybe it was the fact that your yearning heart grew tired of the icy distance between the two of you or maybe you’ve truly come to terms with his unreciprocated feelings—you didn’t know. All you knew was that nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations, especially when it involved feelings. But this could be an exception, right?

“So . . Does that mean we can be friends again?”

It was weird. Atsumu’s voice brimmed with a sense of hope—as if he’s been waiting for this very moment for the past two weeks—but the strange glint in his caramel eyes betrayed the blonde entirely.

Despite your better judgement, you chalked it up to the warm light that casted a soft shadow upon his features; maybe you were too dizzy to see things clearly, or maybe you were looking too deep into Atsumu’s expression—hoping to find some sort of sadness upon hearing your decision to move on, and accept his rejection.

Atsumu watched as your eyes traced his features, closely observing them as if to find some kind of answer; as selfish as it seemed, the intensity in your eyes gave him a tinge of hope that perhaps you could let yourself pine over him just a little longer because he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the knowledge that your heart would no longer yearn for him.

The situation was a double-edged sword, really.

You let out a puff of breath, “Yeah, of course. We’re friends again.” Friends. That word should have given you more relief than sorrow but could you really blame yourself? It felt like a bitter reminder of cold rejection which resembled salt pressed against an unhealed wound, a searing itch that left your skin feverish.

Even if it meant selling yourself short.

Avoiding his eye contact, you swiftly unwound your fingers from his wrist, mentally cursing yourself for not noticing any sooner. A cold embrace engulfed Atsumu’s wrist, where your fingers were mere seconds ago, he tried his best to ignore how his body yearned for your warmth. He gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

For a moment, you stood in each other’s silence like two predators sizing up one another, eagerly waiting for one’s move before pouncing, the silent hum of the fridge making up for the lack of conversation between one another.

How strange, this agreement should have cleared the unsettled air between you, and Atsumu but why did it feel like the complete opposite? As if the air turned into something more uncertain. You both knew you could feel the uncanny tension rising up, up, up but not one dared to address it.

Swiftly burying it under the rug, Atsumu spoke, thinly slicing through your trance, “You’ll find someone better.”

God, he must’ve really matured this new year because he didn’t know how he was able to say that straight to your face. Being one to wear his heart on his sleeve, this was completely foreign for Atsumu—or maybe he just got better at masking his true emotions.

You closed your eyes upon hearing his response, as if doing so would help you brave the weight of his words. It didn’t. That was the last thing you wanted Atsumu to say to you, ‘someone better’, it was brazen of him to think so poorly of himself, as though he wasn’t that certain someone. It was entirely unfair on your end because who was Atsumu to determine which person was for you?

Even just thinking about it had you fuming, rejection was one thing but completely disregarding the reason behind your feelings for him was another because in your eyes, Miya Atsumu was that ‘someone better’; he was the one who understood you the most, the one who always looked out for you, the one you fucking wanted.

And despite your mind telling you to nod along, and suck it up, the alcohol in your body was stronger; so, you opened your eyes, and furrowed your brows at him,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“But I don’t want anyone better, Tsumu. I want you.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, the desperation in your voice was something he hadn't heard before, it definitely pulled at his heart, guilt gnawing at his skin for being the sole reason for your drunken actions. He may be drunk but he wasn’t stupid, Atsumu knew you should’ve kept that one to yourself, he could practically see you brimming with temerity but he’d be lying to himself if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat or two.

I want you, too. God, he wanted to say it back badly. The words were lodged in his throat, unable to slip past his lips despite the best efforts to do so.

It dawned on him—right then, and there—the severity of your feelings for him, the immense weight of it. Now, guilt really ate him away; he could only imagine how the past two weeks were for you. Did you cry while thinking about him?

That was the last thing Atsumu wanted.

Though, amidst the guilt, something else blossomed in his chest, it made him feel like he stood upon the highest pedestal. Atsumu didn’t know whether it was pride or greed; as fucked up as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to push the impulsiveness away as though you’ve infected him with your own. His heart hammered at a thought that formed in his mind, even just thinking about it stirred his chest.

Despite Atsumu’s better judgement, he held onto the feeling with a tight grip, and opened his mouth, tongue nervously swiping at the bottom lip,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“Is . . Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?”

You sucked in a breath, heart pounding at Atsumu’s sudden confession. If you were sober, you’d have a million thoughts racing through your mind right now, questioning the feelings he really had for you but unfortunately, only one thing was on your mind—how badly you wanted to kiss Atsumu too.

Dragging yourself further down, down, down the void of uncertainty, you shook your head in a daze,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“What if I say I want to kiss you, too?” 

Barely audible but Atsumu heard it just fine over the pounding of his heart, over the incoherent conversations beyond this kitchen, over the muted bass music because as long as it's you, he’d always listen, even if it meant drowning out the entire world.

Then, there was a heartbeat, a passing second, a dip of a finger to test undisturbed waters; the funny thing was that even a minute disturbance could cause a ripple effect for miles, and miles, awakening the dormant creatures that lay beyond the azure surface.

It was swift, as though Atsumu had been waiting for this very moment to happen—one second you were locked in a trance, the next his lips were pressed against your own, a shared warmth of intimacy searing both bodies in an eternal blaze like a blue flame that dangerously destroyed everything in its path.

Shy. Warm. Soft. Rosy. Like it was meant to be. The list could go on, and on but it was as though your thoughts came quickly before your mind could register them, leaving you in a white, empty haze. With the plastic cups long forgotten on the counter behind, you closed your eyes as Atsumu’s body eagerly pressed against yours, strong arms coming up to rest on the granite countertop behind you, fingers digging into the material to ground himself.

For a moment, everything was still, lips unmoving against each other, a time to bask in this newfound intimacy—the foreignness of one another’s body. The earth felt like it spun on its axis way faster than usual, as if day, and night merged to become one; hues of late dusk, and early dawn intertwined like your bodies.

Bitterness from Atsumu’s rosy lips lingered on your own; you never liked the taste of beer but oddly enough, you didn’t mind it at all.

Your hands cupped Atsumu’s jaw, fingers gently digging onto his soft skin, eager for more as your lips moulded together. Slowly moving his mouth against your own, you followed suit to match the sensual pace he had set, falling deeper, and deeper between the hazy boundaries of friendship, and something a little more. Low whimpers slipped past between each feverish kiss as a drunken greed gradually controlled your bodies.

The initial softness of the kiss dissipated as each second passed, slowly turning into something more carnal, and passionate—breaths becoming heavier, and faces eagerly pressed against one another, angled in a way to grant more access.

Was this what cloud nine felt like? Exhilarating? Euphoric? As though there was no one else—

“Oh!—Holy shit. Did I interrupt?”

A familiar voice violently pulled you, and Atsumu back into reality, swiftly jumping away from each other’s hold, and looking over to the owner of the voice. Suna. The brunette stared at both of you—looking like a deer caught in headlights, chests heaving—his expression was unreadable, almost like a mix of shock, and amusement. You, and Atsumu kissing in the kitchen was absolutely not in his new year bingo card.

Well, this encounter certainly was enough to strip you into sobriety.

Your head spun a little, lungs severely deprived of oxygen. Shame, and realisation settled deep in your bones—shame because Suna just caught you, and Atsumu almost sucking the soul out of each other, and realisation because everything about this whole situation was so wrong; a million questions formulated in your mind as each awkward second passed.

On the other hand, Atsumu was equally as horrified, albeit annoyed that he didn’t have the chance to kiss you longer. The thrumming of his heart pounded in his ears, his mind trying to come up with anything to say just to stop the thoughts formulating in Suna’s mind—oh, he knows that look on his friend’s face very well.

Your view became obstructed by the expanse of Atsumu’s back, a subtle attempt to block you from the brunette’s gaze.

“W-what the hell, Suna?! Don’t jus’ barge into the kitchen, ya scrub!” Atsumu tried his best to act tough but miserably failed with the shakiness in his voice betraying him.

As if to make matters worse, Suna didn’t back down, a smug look painted on his flushed face as the blonde shamelessly blamed him,

“Well, how was I supposed to know that you two were sucking each other’s faces in the kitchen?!”

Did he have to word it like that?

Atsumu opened, and closed his mouth, trying to think of ways to deny Suna’s accusations but his mind went blank, even with just the brunette mentioning your kiss had him blushing like a mad man. Silence yet again occupied the kitchen, low bass music spilled from the speakers, and incoherent chatters from beyond the space making up for the lack of conversation.

Before the situation could get even more awkward, you spoke up, “I . . think I’m just going to go . . ” This gained both their attention, carefully watching as you navigated past Atsumu, and out the kitchen.

The blonde watched as you staggered past him, and Suna; he wanted to go after you, and talk about what just happened but the soles of his feet stayed rooted on the ground, too heavy to lift, even the words he wanted to say were lodged in his throat.

So, Atsumu decided it was best to let you go.

Monday. 

Everyone’s enemy but also a day to gather around the campus coffee shop with friends, and be productive for a while. The calming aroma of coffee engulfed your senses; low chatter from other customers, faint jazz music, and the occasional hum of the coffee machine filled the table from the lack of conversation. Despite the café’s light ambience, it didn’t do much to hide the growing tension that surrounded the group, specifically you, Atsumu, and Suna.

Kita was the first to notice the subtle shift of aura that emanated from you three, especially after catching a glimpse of Suna’s narrow eyes trailing from you to Atsumu over his laptop screen; though, he had much more things to worry about than to indulge himself in whatever tomfoolery this was. He’d ask questions later.

On the other hand, Osamu was more than curious, especially after his older twin started acting out of character—Atsumu wasn’t one to engulf himself in thoughts to the point where he’d be staring at an inanimate object, in a complete daze but lately, Osamu has seen him behave as such.

The latter could practically feel the weight of awkwardness pressing against his skin as he subtly watched the three of you. Of course, he did his best to pry off information from the blonde only to no avail; Osamu didn’t know why Suna was even caught up in this but he suspected it was from the party a few days ago.

He remembered seeing you stumble out of the kitchen when he was on his way to grab more drinks from their fridge, the younger twin thought nothing of it until he was met with Suna, and Atsumu awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Normally, Osamu would’ve asked questions that night but the alcohol in him couldn’t care less about the situation.

Staring at the untouched document pulled up on your laptop, you ducked behind your screen to avoid Suna’s wandering gaze, and Osamu’s not-so-subtle curiosity. This was hell. You didn’t even know why you decided to turn up today after that shit show at the party—maybe because you thought you could shove down that memory especially after telling Atsumu that you were fine or maybe you craved the closeness you two once had, and now you were here to rebuild that.

As easy as it sounded, you feared it might not be so with the way Atsumu has been avoiding you like the plague. First, it started when you walked into the café at the same time as the twins, Osamu greeted you at the door before heading inside leaving you, and Atsumu outside. Now, that would’ve been fine if the latter didn’t make a show of taking a couple of steps back to let you go first as though you carried some kind of incurable disease.

The second time was when Atsumu realised the only vacant seat was next to your own, thus, asking to swap with Osamu just so he could sit farthest away from you. And the third was when you had asked him if he was alright while waiting in line to order only to be met with a mindless nod before returning to his phone in his hand.

You tried your very best to ignore the blooming pain in your chest; sure, being sad about Atsumu possibly avoiding you was reasonable but then again, you were the one who told him you were okay now—how Atsumu decided to act after the party was beyond your control.

God but it pissed you off. Swallowing one’s pride, and making effort to rekindle a cold friendship was not an easy feat when the other doesn’t do the same. It shouldn’t work you up this much but it did, and now you were second guessing yourself that maybe it was an irrational decision to abruptly tell Atsumu that you’ve come to terms with moving on.

That night at the party, were you lying to yourself just so you could be around him again?

Whatever. It was too late to take it back anyway.

The days ahead were monotonous, and boring; you, and Atsumu remained orbiting around one another, careful not to get into each other’s path of trajectory but it was tiring. Not only did it feel like navigating through eggshells while he was around but the constant questions from your friends tested your limits. Though, it wasn’t their fault for simply being curious, and getting left in the dark about the whole situation but the prying felt like endless jabs of sharp needles along your skin.

From their point of view, you, and Atsumu were stubborn about the whole situation. None dared to speak up about it, acting as though everything was fine, so your friends were left with very little to work with.

It felt like a game of cat, and mouse where you were the feline chasing Atsumu around. The longer the days dragged on, the more thoughts formulated in your mind, and they all involved the blonde in some way or another. And just like everyone else, you had your limits too; you were tired of Atsumu acting like a stubborn idiot.

When you confessed to Atsumu, sure, you expected an awkward phase but this was even worse. There wasn’t just distance between the two of you, it felt like you were strangers.

He was known for brashly saying the sharp truth, so why couldn’t he be straightforward with you? Was he disgusted by the kiss, and deeply regretted it? Did he think you were weird? You didn’t know, but you were bound to find out even if it meant knocking at the twin’s apartment door at 5:45 PM on a cold, rainy Thursday.

With the sun hidden behind the looming grey clouds, the late winter afternoon was even darker; the roads were packed with vehicles while the sidewalks occupied students, and company workers alike trying their best to shield themselves from the heavy downpour. Despite the streets being illuminated with a tinge of warm yellow from cars, and streetlights, it did nothing to brighten up the gloomy day.

Funny, it was as though the universe knew how you felt today.

“If yer lookin’ for ‘Samu, he won’t be back until 8 PM.” Greeted with Atsumu’s shocked face as the ivory door to their apartment opened, you couldn’t help but visibly roll your eyes at his stubbornness. Yeah, like you’d be here at their apartment looking for Osamu—you knew each of their timetables like the back of your hand.

Flaxen strands that sat atop his head were unruly, a sign that he must’ve been taking a nap sometime ago. Atsumu donned a light blue hoodie paired with black sweats; you tried your best not to ogle the man, after all, you were here for a sensible talk.

“I’m here for you, Miya.”

Atsumu gripped the metal handle a little tighter, the coolness of it seeping into the warmth of his skin. He tried not to flinch at the sudden formality of the conversation. Nonetheless, the blonde pulled the door wider, a wordless invite to their humble space. Giving him a small smile before walking inside, you tried not to think about the last time you were here, and how you found yourself drunkenly kissing Atsumu in their kitchen.

The sound of the door closing shut behind Atsumu reverberated throughout the walls of their apartment, followed by a deafening silence. Met with his honeyed stare, you awkwardly coughed, and played with the hem of your jacket, “I’m not going to take up too much of your time . . but I do just have one question.”

There was a momentary silence as Atsumu waited for you to proceed; he had so many questions running through his mind right now, and it took all his willpower to hold them back, and let you speak instead. It was getting harder, and harder to focus as each second passed with the pounding of his heart—Atsumu didn’t know what to expect.

“Did you—Did you regret that kiss . . ?”

Your skin burned as the question lingered in the air, a beat or two before Atsumu finally spoke up, “. . N-no, why’d ya ask?”

Sighing, impatience prickled your feverish skin. ‘Why’d you ask?’  What the hell does he mean by why would I ask? We made out for fuck sake, that’s something friends don’t do! Why is he acting so casual about it? 

“God, this just made it a lot worse. I have so many fucking questions that my mind wants to explode right now,” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you slowly paced back, and forth, the floors beneath silently creaking with each step. So, Atsumu didn’t regret the kiss but he’s acting like you’re strangers—fucking hell, why did he even kiss you in the first place?!

Your mind was a complete mess.

Trying to calm yourself down with slow, deep breaths, you decided to address the elephant in the room first, “Then why have you been avoiding me, Atsumu?—I’m sorry but I’m the one who got rejected, I cannot think of any reason why you should be avoiding me like this.” Atsumu hated that look on your face—the desperation, the sadness, the frustration. He never thought that he’d be the one making you feel all these negative emotions, and it pained him as much as it pained you.

Atsumu let out a sigh, carefully formulating the right words into a coherent sentence, “I’m just . . trying to be careful, okay?” His stomach dropped as your face contorted with more confusion.

Did he say something wrong?

“Careful about what, Atsumu?! You—ugh! It’s so hard to talk to you when you’re giving me all these stupidly vague answers! I’ve already told you I was fine. I don’t care anymore that you don’t like me back. I just want us to be back to normal again.”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to be upset. He couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on so quickly, and that’s why he’s been acting distant lately; it annoyed him how easy it was for you to talk to him like nothing happened but Atsumu knew he couldn’t tell you the reason—why couldn’t you just try, and understand his situation? Rejecting wasn’t an easy task to do, especially if it was the person he had been hopelessly pining for.

“Well—maybe things aren’t meant ta back ta normal!”

What?

You stared at him for a second, brows furrowed as you tried to comprehend his words that lingered in the cold air of their apartment. Silence engulfed the two of you, the distant sounds of Hyōgo’s late afternoon rain seeping through the slightly opened window.

“Do you feel uncomfortable around me after knowing the fact that I have feelings for you? Is that it?” “God, no—I could never feel that way.”

It took all of Atsumu’s patience not to wrap his arms around you—he wanted to hold you against him badly; that defeated look on your face broke his heart but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Maybe Atsumu was the coward after all.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, ‘Tsumu!”

“It’s hard f’me as well, y’know?!” “What is?”

Atsumu closed his eyes, the words he’s been wanting to scream at the top of his lungs lodged in his throat, threatening to slip out. A wave of adrenaline rush coursed through his veins, heart pounding like crazy with this newfound high, it made him feel as though he was invincible—as if he could say anything, and everything without a care for its consequences.

Fuck it.

“Fuck—It’s because I like ya back, okay?! I always have! And rejectin’ ya was so goddamn hard f’me because I’m still not over ya. God, I think about ya every single second, and it pains me so much because yer already movin’ on, and ‘m still stuck here.”

What?

Flabbergasted, you stared at Atsumu all wide-eyed, the thrumming of your heart becoming increasingly loud against your ears as each slow second passed. Did he just say he liked you back? As though mother nature was watching, the rain outside poured harder; sounds of droplets of heavy water against the roof filled the silent apartment, pulling you back into reality.

“Then why—If you feel the same way then why did you reject me?”

When you knocked on the door to the twins’ apartment, you expected a sincere conversation with Atsumu, not him confessing his feelings out of the blue. You were absolutely speechless—you didn’t know whether to jump for joy because he actually does like you back or whether to massage your temples from pure confusion.

“Back then during the trip, ya told me ya weren’t ready for a relationship yet, and that ya only wanted ta confess ta get rejected n’ move on. I wanted ta respect yer decision, so . .”

Flashbacks of said conversation from the trip quickly came into mind, and how you told Atsumu about not being ready for a relationship yet.

Oh.

Oh.

The weight of frustration from your shoulders slowly dissipated, the pent up annoyance you held in your heart was gone too. Suddenly, you weren’t so frustrated anymore after learning about the whole truth behind the situation. You were able to breathe better with the bad air finally cleared between you, and Atsumu.

Looking at it now, you felt absolutely silly. The whole situation turned out to be one big misunderstanding, it was almost laughable—now, you truly understood the essence of communication is key.

You let out a humourless laugh, “You’re so stupid, you know that?” Taking a few steps toward the blonde, you leaned your forehead against his chest, a hand coming up to curl into a fist to lightly hit it; a faint scent of his musky cologne lingered on the fabric of his hoodie, effectively invading your senses. Atsumu didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your torso, pulling your body flush against his before resting his chin on the crown of your head.

For a beat or two, you, and Atsumu remained in each other’s hold, basking in the cosy atmosphere. 

“Would I be more stupid if I tell ya I want ta pick up where we left off at the party?”

Before you knew it your lips were sealed in a searing kiss—this time, it felt raw, all things passionate, and eager. Hands impatiently roaming each other’s unexplored bodies, sounds of wet kisses slowly filling up the apartment. The atmosphere shifted from cosy to something more sensual, light groans, and moans slipping in between each kiss.

Your hands rested on Atsumu’s golden strands, fingers gently tugging at it as he worked his lips down the column of your neck, teeth lightly nipping at the feverish skin. Atsumu focused on a certain spot just below your ear, nipping, and sucking at it which pulled a dainty whine from your lips.

“‘T-Tsumu—Ah!” You gasped, his tongue leaving trails of goosebumps beneath its sinful licks against your skin. He cursed under his breath, the dizzying tone of your voice awakening the slumbering carnal beast that resided in his core. With each dulcet moan that slipped past your swollen lips, Atsumu became greedier, he wasn’t going to settle for mere kisses on your skin—he needed to hear more.

Pulling away from your intoxicating scent, Atsumu looked down at you with parted lips, and hooded eyes, caramel gaze clouded with nothing but pure desire. “I think we should take this ta my room.” He panted.

Nodding at his proposal, hurried footsteps padded over to his room as though each second wasted was crucial. As soon as the door behind Atsumu slammed shut, his lips were on yours once again, strong hands deftly working on the layers of clothing you wore, slowly slipping them off of you one by one; Atsumu could practically feel himself shaking with nervousness, and excitement.

Discarding your top on the wooden floor beneath, Atsumu stared wide-eyed at your torso, both hands coming up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra, earning a low moan from you. The air of the room felt cold against your skin but Atsumu’s touch was enough to ignite you.

“So beautiful . .” He absent-mindedly gasped, a lovestruck look in his honeyed eyes.

Hands eagerly tugging at the hem of his hoodie, Atsumu swiftly pulled the fabric off his torso in one movement, golden strands tousled from the action. Goosebumps formed upon his sun kissed skin, bare torso met with the cold winter air; your eyes raked Atsumu’s physique up, and down, shamelessly ogling his muscled chest in all its naked glory. God, you used to just fantasise about this, and now it was served right in front of you on a silver platter.

You decorated each other’s skin with endless love bites, sinful hues of dark red, and purple peppered along your chest, and neck. Atsumu took his sweet time to savour every bit of you—your taste, your scent, your sounds, everything. He made sure to bask in your serene beauty, the gentle glow of your bare figure before utterly devouring you like a starved animal, ravaging your purity with carnal desire.

Atsumu let himself go at the raw intimacy of your bodies, the feeling of your sweet warmth brought tears of pleasure in his eyes as he pushed, and pushed towards the newfound ecstasy you both shared. The chant of his name slipped past your lips like a sinful melody, mere fuel to the relentless drive of his hips. But Atsumu held you dearly against his naked body through it all, fingers intertwined with your own as he keenly chased both your pleasures, choked out moans of your name whispered hotly against your sensitive skin.

And as you both tipped over the edge, Atsumu didn’t fail to tell you how much he loved you in between each pathetic moan as he painted your insides white, the dizzying pleasure contorting his handsome face in pure ecstasy. You held him in your arms, nails digging crescent-shaped marks on his skin, whispering saccharine praises to him as you let go, and emptied the words of your heart.

As the gentle aftermath of the passionate exchange rolled around, Atsumu held you in his arms, hearts beating as one, and lulling you both to sleep. The last thing you heard was a faint ‘I love you’ before passing out from exhaustion.

“‘Tsumu, what did ya want for—Oh my god! What the fuck?!” 

A familiar voice abruptly pulled you, and Atsumu out of your sleep, followed by the loud bang of his door slamming shut. Muffled expletives from outside the room could be heard as you both stirred beneath the ivory sheets. “‘Tsumu, what the hell?! Ya should’ve warned me before I went into yer room!” Osamu yelled from the other side of the door.

Atsumu groaned, rubbing his face before turning to the door, “Shut yer trap! Ya should’ve knocked!” At his twin’s silence, he let out a sigh, and slung a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body before closing his eyes once again.

You let out a soft chuckle, “We really need to stop getting caught. First, Suna, and now Osamu.” Atsumu hummed in response, too sleepy to even think or form a coherent sentence. Snuggling closer to him, you closed your eyes, and went back to sleep as well.

Oh, you could get used to this.

Winter slowly turned into spring as March rolled around—the end of the academic year.

Trees that were once bare slowly blossomed with flowers, hues of yellows, and browns were replaced with endless greenery, and frigid air became more welcoming like a warm embrace. Most importantly, the cold distance between you, and Atsumu no longer existed, instead, it was replaced by fluttering heartbeats, and fluffy moments that hinted at a sweet forevermore.

“There he is! How does it feel to be a fresh graduate!” Suna whistled as Kita walked over to the group, clad in a black academic gown with a matching trencher propped neatly on his head, the golden tassel on the cap swayed with every step taken; he donned a warm smile, one hand holding his well-deserved degree.

The buzz of excitement outside the venue was high, the graduation ceremony having finished just a few minutes ago. You were all surrounded by graduands, all with heartfelt smiles on their faces as they conversed with family, and friends alike. 

As your friends fell into a merry conversation, a warm hand interlaced with your own, giving your hand a comfortable squeeze. Atsumu. Looking up at your boyfriend, he cheekily leaned into your ear, whispering an ‘I love you’ before slowly blinking at you, mirroring a cat’s action. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at his antics.

“Are you two lovebirds done, now?” Suna coughed, pulling you back into reality.

Met with amused expressions plastered on your friends’ faces, you, and Atsumu returned a sheepish smile before joining in their conversation. “Anyway, we were talkin’ about how we should celebrate Kita’s graduation. It can also serve as a treat for us for makin’ it through another academic year.” Osamu explained, earning a hum of approval from you, and Atsumu.

“How about a spring trip to Kyoto?” —

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© atsumou 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[cinnabeat]

ok gonna be a hater about ui design again but what the FUCK is the safari layout on the iphone

[hecksupremechips]

I need to stop being so mean I don’t know what’s wrong with me

[hannieehaee]

HOW SWEET (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: after years of an unspoken fight between you and your self-proclaimed enemy, you find yourself forced to work with your life-long rival, kim mingyu, as your father offers him a position at the family bakery. with such forced proximity and endless arguments, how are you supposed to cater to your duties when mingyu's presence brings so much tension to the kitchen?

content: baker!mingyu, enemies to lovers, pining, one sided crush that becomes two sided!, afab reader, smut, teasing, semi public sex (its done in a public establishment but no one is there), breast play, food play (frosting on tits basically), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.2k (teaser); 8.4k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: december 20th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: i dont think ive ever actually done enemies to lovers so i hope i did the trope justice!!

masterlist | patreon

Twelve years.

Twelve years dedicating yourself to your craft, attending summer camps, taking elective classes, paying for extracurricular classes, working summers at your dad's place, making all effort known to man, yet this is how it all ended.

Maybe claiming this to be the end was slightly dramatic, but that's how it felt at the moment. As you stared up at your dad and the excuse of a man standing next to him, far too cocky for you to allow your anger yo subside.

Today had been an average day. Throughout your life, you were content to admit that most of your days could be categorized as good, especially after years of having found comfortable employment at your father's renown bakery soon after high school (thank you nepotism). Attending culinary school whilst managing a part-time job at your dad's place had been anything but difficult. It was quite an easy and enjoyable job, one in which you could proudly say you'd had the chance to grow up in.

Your father had owned the place since before you could even walk, building it up to become a favorite in your city. Business was always booming, and it just so happened to fulfill your passion for baking — one which your dad had obviously passed down to you, but you weren't complaining. You occasionally took up shifts during high school, only becoming a full-fledged part-time employee during university, recently graduating and upgrading to full time. Life was good and steady.

So, it was fair to say that most of your days were good.

However, there was the occasional day that was ruined by the mere presence of a particular individual.

You hadn't meant to dislike him as much as you did. Anyone who knew you could vow for your likable personality and charismatic demeanor, meaning it was difficult for you to bump heads with people (at least most of the time). But there was just one particular person who made your blood boil from the day you met him. It had been so long ago, you couldn't date back the moment — nor the instance — in which your dislike had begun brewing. Fortunately, the dislike was completely mutual. You didn't have to feel like an asshole for scowling at the man any time you saw him, because you were usually met by a mirror of your expression or an annoyingly frustrating smirk — similar to in this moment.

The frustrating man in question was none other than Kim Mingyu, the resident heartthrob and well known for his passion and talent for baking. Hatred for the insufferable man aside, his abilities as a baker, and chef in general, could not be denied. The mere implication of praise made you gag, but you liked to think you were mature enough to admit talent when you saw it. This was something you'd never verbalize, however, knowing the man to also be one of the cockiest people you'd ever met.

There were a myriad of reasons as to why your current predicament ruined not only your day, but likely many upcoming ones. The main reason could be boiled down to the smile on Mingyu's face as he stood to your father's side. The cockiness emitting from him was enough to get your blood boiling and to create a carnal desire within you to beat him to a pulp.

The reason for his smile, however, was what truly took the cake.

Within the past moments in which you'd been processing your father's words, you remained silent and stagnant before them, leading your father to repeat the cursed sentence once more.

"Mingyu's going to be working with us from now on," he'd said with an innocent smile on his face, unknowing of your feud with the man in question.

Everything had come crashing down in that moment, but any more silence from you would mean Mingyu won this round, which was something you simply could not have — even under these circumstances.

Shaking all the anger and hateful memories from your head, you straightened your back and morphed a smile onto your face, one good enough for your dad to buy and for Mingyu to be unable to judge. Your hand extended as a courtesy, offering itself to Mingyu as a form of welcome, something which your father likely expected from you.

"In that case, welcome to the team," you spoke for the first time, sweetly enough to grant you a satisfied smile from your father. The poor man was blissfully unaware of your dislike for Mingyu, so no blame really fell on him for his blind decision.

Grasping your hand in his larger one, Mingyu shook hands with you, satisfied smile still on his face, "Looking forward to working with you," he said, far too content for you to not want to take him out back and-

"I know you kids already know each other from back when you were in school, so it should be easy for you to show him the ropes, right, kid?", asked your dad, interrupting your violent thoughts.

Your head whipped to him, "Show him the ropes?"

"Yeah. I was thinking you could train him? He's already an amazing baker, but maybe he should shadow you for a few weeks. You know, just in case," your father clarified.

Mingyu's close-lipped grin grew wider somehow, almost as if the knowledge of your discomfort at being around him overpowered his own dislike of your presence.

"Uh, yeah. Sure, dad," you found yourself agreeing against your will.

Your dad clapped his hands once in satisfaction, then proceeding to patting your back in encouragement as he tended to do.

"Thanks, kid. Well, I'll leave you two to it," he then turned to Mingyu, "Welcome to the team, son. Y/N here will show you where you can get your apron and give you a general overview of the place before your first day tomorrow," and with that, he made his exit.

Behind, he left a fuming you and an overly pleased Mingyu. Silence filled the room for a few moments until you found it vital to curse out the infuriating boy in front of you.

But, as per usual, he beat you to it.

"Happy to see me, cupcake?"

God damnit. You forgot about the annoying nicknames he'd insisted on calling you by since meeting back in high school.

Cupcake, baby, sweetheart, sweetiepie, babe, honey, darling. And these were the more tame ones. You did not want to think about the instances in which he'd called you hot stuff or sexy in public. They'd led to public displays of aggression you weren't exactly proud of.

"I thought you were studying culinary abroad. What happened? Got yourself kicked out?," you grumbled, walking over to the back of the restaurant with him following close by.

"Nope. Just decided my expertise could be used back home. And clearly since you seem to be the best they got around here."

It was as if he was allergic to not bugging the shit out of you.

You turned to face him, blinking harshly at the unexpected proximity before taking a step back and responding to his smirk with a frown, "Listen, Mingyu. You heard my dad. I'm in charge of you. If you disregard my authority, I won't hesitate to send your ass running. Do you understand?"

This made his grin grow bigger for some reason. Knowing he was getting under your skin was great for his entertainment.

"Yes, ma'am," he bit his lip in amusement.

...

you can check it out today on my patreon by subscribing!

reply if you'd like to be tagged upon its release on tumblr!

[deartrent]

untold feelings — taa (pt. 1)

summary: you find yourself in a web of secrecy, long-suppressed desires and untold feelings within the buildings of liverpool fc, and it's bound to become a sticky situation

warnings: contains smut (18+, mdni)

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

notes: this is my first time writing smut and posting it, so i'm sorry if it's ass 😭 i'm thinking of adding more parts to this bc ive got some ideas cooking, but let me know what you guys think of this part first!

when you started your new job at liverpool fc as a player care officer, you had no idea what awaited you. all you knew was that you'd be in touch with the players most of the time; your main task literally being their first-line support for every- and anything they wanted and needed.

what you didn't expect though, was getting attached to one particular footballer. he was a man of little words, an introverted, closed off, at first seemingly "asshole"—though that presumption disappeared as you spoke to the guy more often. he was mysterious, a characteristic that ignited your interest in him in the first place. he wasn't your usual outgoing, witless and self-centered footballer, no, instead he kept to himself and only gave well-thought out answers. you tried your best to keep each interaction professional, especially when the news broke out of his new vice captain role, you vowed to not get involved with him, not wanting to be the reason that would put his new role in jeopardy.

you struggled though. the tension was there. you could feel it, he could feel it. if anyone else was in the room, they could feel it too. his eyes would bore into you as you typed away on your computer, logging the information he would give you, his eyes clearly attempting to get a message across. he had no shame in checking you out, scanning every part of your body, before his eyes would meet yours again, a mischievous smirk on his face as he sank further into his chair comfortably, his arms lazily draped along the armrests, his legs spread out.

after a few more appointments and conversations, you noticed him coming out of his shell more. there was no denying that the dynamic between you guys shifted, from a strictly professional one, to a more easygoing and flirty one. when you'd pass each other in the hallways, trent would flash you a cheeky smile, accompanied by a quick wink he made sure only you could see. if the coast was clear, he'd quickly poke your side as he passed, causing you to burst out in giggles. he'd always make sure to pass by your office as well, before heading to training, making sure to wish you a good morning or even bringing you a coffee if time allowed him to.

you enjoyed the secretive thing you had going on with trent, adding a tinge of excitement to your days.

the annual club dinner was the first time you and trent would see each other outside of a professional setting. his eyes never left you that night, observing your every move while simultaneously networking with the people around him, waiting for a moment to catch you alone.

"took you long enough," you joked as you watched him approach you, while you stood at the bar, waiting for your next drink. "were you waiting for me then?" his crossed arms rested on the bar, as he faced forward, allowing you to admire his side profile, "maybe," you shrugged, thanking the barman, before turning to trent once again. though he wasn't very tall, he still towered a little over you, that same cheeky smirk never leaving his face. the tension was unbearable and you knew he felt it too, the presence of his teammates and your colleagues being the only thing stopping you from sharing little touches.

"enjoying yourself?" you asked, looking away from his face as you started feeling nervous under his gaze, "yeah, very much," he let out a chuckle, knowing you were referring to him checking you out, "i'd enjoy it more if i could touch though," trent mumbled, his eyes scanning over the place, the same way yours did.

you were caught by surprise. he'd never verbally expressed what his eyes were insinuating. you never expected him to be so blunt, showing a different side to him than you were used to, "i'm afraid you're just gonna have to stick to looking for now," you tried to play off the feeling that was forming in the pit of your stomach. you wanted to feel his touch just as much as he wanted to touch you, your mind wandering off to the mental images of his body that you'd collected over the past few weeks while observing him in training from the window in your office. "watch out, you might start drooling in a minute," trent joked, amused with his own joke, while you hit his arm with the back of your hand.

you spent the rest of the night flirting back and forth with trent, either through eye contact or subtle touches as you'd pass each other. the night slowly came to an end and trent made sure to check up on you one more time.

"do you want me to drive you home?" trent asked, a hint of hope in his eyes that you'd say yes. you looked around for a second, "i already had a ride, but i don't mind going with you," although your facial expression would never give it away, you felt more nervous with each second passing, the realisation settling in that soon you'd be completely alone with trent.

while trent drove you home, the tension that had built up over the past few weeks only rose. one thing led to another and before you knew it, trent was reclined in the driver's seat, while you had both legs on each side of him. you'd been waiting for this exact moment, to feel his voluptuous and soft lips on yours, savouring every second you spent tasting his mouth. your lips wrapped around his bottom lip, tugging a little as trent's eyes shot closed, his large hands carefully placed on your hips, squeezing them ever so softly. beneath you, you could feel trent grow. seeing him melt under your touch drove you insane, the combination of his shut eyes, parted lips and hushed moans making you feel something you had never felt before.

trent's hands found their way around your back, unzipping the dress you picked with him in mind, as he slowly shed you of your clothing. his fingers eagerly unclasped your bra and as your eyes locked for a split second, you noticed just how hungry he was for you. your dress sat bunched up around your waist, your panties exposed, while your bra was lost somewhere in the car. trent's fingers played with your nipples, an unfamiliar sensation shooting through your body, only trent's touch having that effect on you, "trent," you tried to mumble, his lips never leaving yours, as though he was making up for the past few weeks of depriving him of your touch.

trent's hands roamed around your body, grabbing a handful of your ass, as you leaked more fluid all over your panties. you needed to feel him and you needed to make it clear to him, so as you finally let go of his lips, you cupped his face with your hands, holding him close as you whispered against his swollen lips, "i need you to fuck me like you've never fucked anyone before," those words leaving your mouth made trent go feral, unbuckling and pulling his pants down with one swift motion, the only barrier between your skin and his being your panties and his boxers. your hands wrapped around the elastic band, pulling the boxers down as his cock sprung free, resting against his stomach.

"fuck," you whispered against his lips, your pussy throbbing, yearning to be filled up. trent wasted no time, holding your panties to the side with one hand, while the other slid against your folds, spreading the moisture across his fingers before pumping his cock in his hands a few times. trent lined himself up with your entrance, the moment you both had silently been waiting for finally here. your hands rested on his broad shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. picking up your pace, trent was losing his mind and you could tell. his head fell back against the headrest, his hands firmly on your hips, guiding you through your movements. "fucking hell," he cursed, burying his cock deep inside, hitting a spot you didn't even know was possible, your moans getting louder.

you knew he was close from how sloppy each thrust had become, his breathing getting deeper and quicker. you lifted yourself off of him without a warning, his eyes lazily following your every move, high off of the ride you just gave him. you moved back to the passenger's seat, sitting on your knees as you wrapped both hands around his cock, leaving a trail of spit on his tip as you moved up and down as fast as you could, driving him to his climax. cum leaked all over your fingers, while trent cursed under his breath. your mind clouded by feelings of lust and desire, you brought your fingers up to your lips, licking them off as though you'd just finished a meal. trent chuckled as he crashed down from his high, his thumb caressing your cheek, "won't lie, i didn't expect all that from you, ms. wanna keep things professional," he joked, your cheeks heating up at his remark.

the night continued for a while, you'd moved to the backseat, lying on your back as trent supported himself on top of you. with your legs up, resting on trent's shoulders, he slammed into you, your cries being heard from outside the car. "fuc-" you choked on your moans, trent's name leaving your lips, warning him that you were close. trent watched your eyes roll back, his thumb circling between your folds, stimulating your clit, while his thrusts became deeper and slower, "fuck, fuck, fuck," your legs trembled, your body shuddering against trent as you held onto his muscular arms, as he unloaded another load inside of you.

the car felt hot by the end, your sweaty body on top of trent's as you laid your head on his shoulder, one of your hands resting on his exposed chest. the silence cleared your mind enough to think about what had just happened. you had no idea how you went from fighting to get a word out of trent to lying on top of him naked, vulnerable and fucked out in his car, parked in front of your place. if you had any energy left in you, you'd be stressing about how you were supposed to go back to work and pretend like nothing had happened—at least that's what you were planning on doing.

you knew you crossed a line you shouldn't have, you felt regret as you looked up at trent whose eyes were shut, his breathing steady and calm. you wondered what was going through his mind, if he was thinking the same as you, and if the weight of concealing the intimacy between you both laid as heavily on his heart as it did on yours.

[simp4konig]

Halloweens with König headcannons 🎃🍂

Gender-neutral Reader

*Slow burn

Word Count: ~3246

*FLUFFFFFFF😿😿💖✨🩷🩷💘

*Soft König☺️ (but also König is a smug bastard + asshole 🙄), Established relationship, Single mention of (ambiguous) age gap 😮‍💨

🧡Happy Halloween guys!!🧡 I don't celebrate Halloween myself , but im feeling 😈in the mood😈 so i hopw this can suffice for this ooky kooky spooky season 😰😰

Gos i wanna kms ive veen so uninspirws AAAHAHAHAHDHDHDDH this is literslly. Me rn--->💥💥💥💥💥🙂🔫 fuckijg FINALLT GOT sometjing OUT 🥳🥳 rest asusred iwont kms i need to finish my rqs first ☺️💖💖✨ i will feel SO euphoric when all the WIPS will become Completed Works !! 😍😍Im just gonna not post until i gdt smth donw bci hate giving false promises its the same as lyijg,🗿🗿

Tag List ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @abysslovesyou ♡ @puff0o0 ☆ @rustic-guitar-notes ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @reyner-lee ☆ @lotionlamp ♡ @trepaika ☆ @luci4theminorannoyance

...

König wasn't really one for Halloween.

Hadn't ever been, really, as he hadn't been raised to celebrate it.

In his household, he hadn't had much exposure to the Western "Hallow's Eve".

Besides, even if he was familiar with the tradition, his parents didn't bother celebrating those kinds of trivialities; after all, they certainly weren't going to bother wasting hard-earned money on trifles like pumpkins, just so they'd rot on the front porch, or candy that would rot your teeth, or on vulgar masks that depicted serial killers and monsters, too blasphemous to bear.

Plus, his neighbourhood didn't partake in "Trick-or-treat'ing" at all, and wouldn't leave any candy for any children — wouldn't do anything, really.

Nobody decorated their house with ghouls and ghosts, nobody dressed up as vampires or murderers, nobody jumped from behind corners to shout "Boo!".

None of that, as these ideas were childish. Infantile. Juvenile, even.

Thus, October 31st, König's Austrian villiage was quiet. So eerily quiet you'd had thought it was a ghost town had it not been for hundreds of cloaked figures in the cemetary — as, for König, "Halloween" tended to be a more sombre occasion in comparison to the American/English versions.

Instead of running around and knocking on people's doors with a broad, lopsided smile like other children ought, he was brought along to visit the graves of his family members: graves of his ancestors, which he'd be told about in detail, details of the person buried six feet under the stone slab; information and stories passed down from generations.

He would be taught to honour those deceased in his family and respect their memory, to remember those in the afterlife and what they sacrificed to get there.

Carrying a lamp, he'd light candles on those decrepit gravestones, text faded and illegible, while his parents left boquets of flowers, and pulled up their long black cloaks. Silently paying their respects.

While it wasn't necessarily a day of mourning — König never needed tissues to wipe any tears or blow his nose, and neither did anyone else in the family — it was far graver when compared to the Halloween holidays elsewhere.

However, König's memories of Halloween were few, far, and in-between.

Whenever he'd hear of other people's experiences, he was never nostalgic, as, the times that he did attend those familial ceremonies he was either too young to understand what was happening, or knew too little of the deceased[s] in question to be moved by the heavy atmosphere.

Not only that, but the time period was overwhelmingly solemn, with people flooding the burial grounds, some murmuring prayers, others with tears in their eyes.

There was no laughter, no treats, no fun costumes. Not even tricks. Just suffocating depression all around.

So, he didn't really associate the celebration with something to celebrate: what, celebrating the deaths of your family? That was quite morbid, when he thought about it, and he wasn't going to dedicate an entire month every year to remind himself of death with so many other operators around him falling on the battlefield, and having had faced the grim reaper himself several times already.

Hence, every 31st of October, he did nothing. Didn't acknowledge it at all.

But all that changed one fateful day in September. When he finally acknowledged it, all right (with a little of your help of course)!

You had asked König in passing if he had considered dressing up as something for Halloween. Maybe what he had considered doing on the evening. Or if he had plans to attend the autumn fair sometime soon.

His response? A blank look. Distant recognition.

For a quiet moment, you thought he was scowling at you, silently ridiculing your childish suggestion.

Then: "Halloween? Ah!" An amused chuckle, endeared by the child-like curiosity in your eyes, and a silent sigh of relief from you.

"I don't celebrate it, myself, meine liebe. But you're welcome to tell me what your costume is. I'd love to hear all about it, maus."

Mortified by this revelation, you couldn't let this go.

"What do you mean you "don't celebrate it"? You have got to be joking!"

Wide eyes, and jaw agape, you were in disbelief.

He simply shook his head with a strained smile. "I've just never seen it as something to celebrate, you know? No reason to."

Taking it upon yourself to prove him wrong, you wasted no time converting this skeptic into a believer. "Oh no, there is. I mean, it's Halloween! Everyone is crazy for it!"

Suddenly, your eyes lit up. A wave of adrenaline crashing into you, you tugged König's arm in direction of the couch.

"That's where we'll start! We're gonna watch Halloween! That'll surely get you in the spirit."

You winked at him, satisfied. Then, a sudden snort and a suppressed chortle, hand cupped over your mouth as you laughed at your pathetic attempt at a joke.

König cocked his head to the side in confusion, but let you hastily scramble for blankets, pillows, and to microwave bowls of popcorn, as he made himself comfortable on the couch cushions that sank in protest under his weight.

Initially, he was reluctant. Not necessarily looking forward to being forced to watch movies from the 80s–00s, over-the-top movies with subpar acting, to say that he was looking forward to it would have been a stretch.

However, seeing how passionate you were about the holiday, your interests, König didn't want your sweetness sour.

Yes, he was a little older than you, and perhaps didn't grasp what there was to fuss over, but he wasn't about to spoil your good mood, or dampen that excitement just because he didn't personally understand or was interested personally. He wanted to make an effort, for you.

Vowing to take part in your silly shenanigans, he swore to become involved in the festivities in order to see you smile. To keep seeing you smiling.

After that, every October evening you'd watch a movie — a (usually) corny horror classic, though spending most nights binging all the Screams, Halloweens, Chuckys, The Shinings, Saws, and Evil Deads, — huddled under moutains of blankets and stuffing your faces with toffee-flavoured popcorn.

Watching horror films with him was like being lectured on common-sense and taught self-defence lessons in real time, though. Not like you minded, but it really got rid of the edge and the tension in its entirety.

Instead of paying attention to the storyline, it's more likely König would catch on to the stupid decisions the characters and the shitty attempts to fight back, and he wouldn't be able to help commenting:

"Why did she leave the knife in him? In his abdomen, of all places? Now the murderer has a weapon! Should have taken it out and left him to bleed out. But noooo, nein, leave the knife there."

"Going into the forest on his own? In the night? With a killer on the loose? Mein Gott, he is such a dummkopf! Bring a friend, why don't you?"

"Liebling, why is there so much gore? Isn't this rated "15"? Wait, and why is there a lady with no shirt? This is supposed to be scary, ja? I'm very scared. Scared you'll slap me, actually, if I don't keep looking at my lap."

Angrily ranting at the television, you'd gently reassure him, that, "Sweetie, this is fiction. Sometimes, the scenes are unrealistic." "But it said "based on real events"! I swear, liebling, if I watch another ten minutes of this I'll have a headache. I can't comprehend the stupidness."

Tough crowd, that couldn't really immerse himself in the plot, but you took a note or two for the sorts of horror movies König wouldn't dislike.

Although he insulted all the characters for being stupid and ridiculed all the characters for being so brainless, he would begrudgingly admit that he enjoyed the movie, pointing out some of his favourite scenes.

Self-aware comedic slashers meant he could suspend disbelief and laugh out loud a little, while, movies with an omnipotent monster meant he couldn't criticise any inaccuracies. He didn't winge at those as much in comparison to major blockbuster films. In fact, he even preferred low budget movies, ones that were pure comedic relief and so self-aware that he wouldn't be able to help but laugh along, unable to hide his amusement.

Afterwards, at exactly midnight, you'd be huddled together in the dark under a thick blanket, gorging your mouth with sugary sweets and bite-size chocolates (also indulging in chocolates that were far from bite-size), giggling like lunatics (well, that was mostly you, but König joined in to keep you company).

Later, face serious, with a torch under your chin, you'd be whispering hushedly with a tone of foreboding, voice low, and words ominous:

"Drip. Drip. Dripping water. She had checked the bathroom taps, the kitchen taps, and they were twisted tightly closed. A leakage, perhaps? Or, perhaps, something else. As she roamed the corridor, the drip-drip-drip of liquid grew louder. And louder—"

"Ah, she should call her plumber, then, shouldn't she?" A sure shit-eating smirk that was obscured by his mask, but the way his eyes were squinting you knew he was taking the piss.

Of course, storytelling was not as haunting as you would have had liked it to be: König would interject, interrupting the aura of mystery and the medatitive atmosphere, with sarcastic remarks. It made the narrations really melodramatic in the end, and frustrated you to no end.

Still, you would groan, and, undaunted by his immature antics — as, mind you, this was a grown-ass man, a 6'10 wall of muscle messing around like this, teasing you not like the cocky Colonel he was but a snarky teenage boy — continue:

"—she walked on — despite having been rudely interrupted moments prior — and her heart sank. Blood. A puddle of it, on the floor, looking like gallons upon gallons of it had—"

"Maybe she was — ah, what's the word?" A thoughtful pause, hand where his chin was under the fabric "— menustrating? Was she wearing white pants, maybe?"

"—Menstruating, König — and stop ruining my horror narration! Now I've lost the plot! Okay — against her will, her eyes moved up the wall, following the dripping blood. To her horror, it was coming from the attic. Swallowing the heavy lump in her throat, she pulled open the hatch with jittering fingers, grip slackened by the warm sweat on her palms, knees threatening to buckle. And, when the trap door released, she gasped. Blood draining her face, she saw—"

An exaggerated gasp from König, as he clasped his hands over his mouth in mock shock. "She— she saw— your mother! Mein Gott, the horror!"

"Shut up, König!" An annoyed huff, and shuffling away. "Honestly, you're such a killjoy..."

König, scooping you into his arms when you turned around with crossed arms, pouting lips, and furrowed brows, nuzzed his masked face into your neck, chuckling heartily. You squirmed under his hold, fabric tickling your sensitive neck, and you'd desperately hold back your giggles, trying hard to keep a straight face.

"Ja, ja, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Es tut mir leid, meine Liebe. Please keep going. What did she find in the attic?"

"No! You made me forget the grand reveal, now! I forgot what was up there, anyways..."

Walking around the house, you'd have the fright of your life when a huge shadow would jump in front of you at odd hours of the day.

"Boo!" König's voice resounded, loud and reverberating.

And you screamed, damn near verging on a heart attack.

"Shoving" him in frustration — you became actually even more frustrated when the man was like a solid wall and did not even budge a millimetre — König was quick to console you.

Doting over you, a wide smile on his face that the mask couldn't hide, he would be so overly lovey-dovey with you in an attempt to win back your affection that you'd roll yours eyes so far they'd end up in the back of your head.

"Meine liebe, I'm sorry for scaring you. I couldn't resist. You'll forgive me, won't you? You will, right? Please say yes."

You insisted you would, seemingly unassuming, then schemed to startle him at odd hours of the night as payback for losing your dignity in that moment.

At one point, you had even waited half an hour in the wardrobe while he was showering, only to jump out and see König in only a towel.

Yeah, you were the one that got jumpscared instead, face erupting in red despite you two being together for months at that point. You gave up trying to spook him then, bitterly accepting defeat.

Though, going along with your silly little activities, like going shopping for Halloween decorations, made König's heart swell seeing you bounce around excitedly and point out all the ornaments.

He didn't quite consent to you buying a life-size skeleton to call him Greg and place him in your shared bedroom. That was one step too far.

Still, seeing the wonder on your face, in awe of all the masks, costumes, decorations, and animated mannequins that'd cackle after triggering their mechanisms made his steel-blue eyes soften, melting into pure love and devotion for you.

So, to humour you one day, and to lift your mood after scaring you that one morning, König made two eye-holes in a white blanket, running after you around the house, almost tripping over it in his haste.

"Ooooo-ooo!" he moaned in over-dramatised agony, voice low yet playful. "This is not König, but his ghooost! Run, liebling, or you'll be neeext!"

Hearing him say that in his Austrian accent was so hilarious that were tears running down your cheeks from how hard you'd be laughing, and your sides splitting with the laughter, struggling scramble away, giggling.

Those moans of agony would become genuine cries in pain when he'd accidently hit his head on the doorframe when he forgot to duck in his excitement. The one time that bulky helmet of his could have come to use.

Despite all that, you'd be cornered against the wall, with nowhere to run, and König would pounce, tickling your sides viciously.

That broad smile on your face and the expression was worth fooling around and making a fool of himself.

He even didn't mind having you coo over his "injury" just like how he had when he was doting over you, because he loved you so much.

And, he loved you so much, that he even allowed you to "decorate" his gear. "To make it appropriate for the spooky season!" you had insisted, and he'd comply, not wanting to dull that sparkle in your eyes.

So contented with painting an intricate monster on his mask with fluorescent orange paint, you didn't notice König watching you hunched over the desk from behind, leaning against the doorframe with a loving smile on his face.

You hadn't expected that he'd wear that gear on base — veil, knee pads, helmet, and all — strutting his stuff. Just to remind everyone that their Colonel had a lovely spouse back home.

What you hadn't anticipated was how quickly König would start enjoying the season. Unexpectedly, he became obsessed with Halloween — his favourite tradition, second only to Christmas.

Carveling hollowed-out pumpkins of all shapes and sizes was one of his favourite past-times.

You'd think that with his size he'd struggle to cut through the orange crust without crushing it into pumpkin-coloured mush in his fists, but you'd be forgetting that he was skilled with a knife.

That said, König wasn't artistic. At all. The best he could produce would be a lopsided smiling caricature of... something. A nondescript creature, which you had complimented him on being so cute, only for him to angrily insist that it was an evil monster, and not cute at all.

Still, you would snap a picture before he could object, and give this pumpkin the spotlight on your front porch, soon many more following suit. Jack'o'lanterns illuminating your front step, glowing gold.

The sweet scent of cinnamon, ginger, and vanilla extract filled your house, new freshly-baked treats from the oven laid out on the kitchen island daily.

Delicious aroma of sugary pastry, homemade banana bread with small hints of vanilla and sprinkled with icing sugar, candied oranges and sour, sherbet lemon cakes, crunchy cinnamon sugar pumpkin seeds ("Made from the pumpkin guts!" you exclaimed with a smile of pride, König's eyes smiling in delight of your enthusiasm).

Crumbly shortbread in the shape skulls and bats, round cookies with orange and black icing resembling pumpkins, sponge cakes that oozed thick raspberry and strawberry jam when you bit into them ("Because they were bleeding blood," you proclaimed, a devilish smirk on your face — or, something like it, as to König you were the cutest angel he'd had ever been blessed to be around), and so, so, so much more.

So much that your weekly trips to the supermarket became biweekly, until you two found yourselves stocking up on sugar, flour, eggs, and butter far too often to keep track of.

The house was so inviting, especially to little ones from the neighbourd, that their mouths were agape and their eyes sparkled as they passed your "haunted house", holding the hands of their parent(s).

Mentioned in an earlier post that König has a soft spot for children, he'd stock up on Halloween candy and treats, and lug bucketfuls of sweets on the doorstep for any little ones that'd knock on your door to cheerfully cry out in unison, full of glee: "Trick or treat!"

He'd welcome them with open arms, but, with most of them being so little, they'd point with bulging eyes the giant on the doorstep, to be harshly reprimanded by their mothers and fathers for their ignorance and rudeness.

Few would say much after seeing König the giant, and after daring to scoop a handful of confectionary, bowing their heads and avoiding his eyes would mumble a shaky "...Th-thank you, s-sir—!"

One of them, however — a little girl with rosy cheeks donning white stockings and a gold tinsel halo — beamed brightly, albeit shyly, at König, thanking him for the treat and his generosity. An innocent, toothy smile that made her squint from how high it reached her eyes, her front baby teeth missing.

When she had her back turned to you two, she ran as fast as her chubby little legs could take her, and exclaimed, "Mommy! Mommy! That giant is a big and friendly one! A big, friendly giant. Can we go again, please? Please?"

It was only when you nudged König with your elbow, grinning, when she had skipped happily away, that he had realised he had tears in his eyes.

Moreover, maybe the memories König had of Halloween weren't so cheerful, or ones even worth remembering in the first place; after all, his childhood wasn't so cheerful. Joyless, and with little life.

But, with the way that Halloween was shaping up to be, he was already looking forward to the special celebration.

So full of life the you two were, you would laugh at the irony — animated and living the dream, while celebrating the day of the day. It brought you two to more laughter.

And, with you, König could make new ones, ones that you'd look back on fondly years from now, and those grueling months on deployment.

...

Note: Went off experience here for the beginning, guys🫡🫡 for the mowt part i have never celebrated Halloween😰 only a couple times in Poland, and once in England when i drank tomato juice and prwtended it was blood and i was a vampire🤪,

, but I Googled "Halloween in Austria" /Germany" to clarify whether I wasn't just speaking outta my ass and König here would have celebrated it differently to how I had in Poland 💀cuz, yknow, im not egocentric ajd the world doesnt celebrate things the same way Poles do 😘...

...And, no, I wasn't !☺️✨✨(... sort of😅... As far as I know, Germany has adopted the West's Halloween, ans theres pumpkin carving competitiomsn stuff, while Austria does indeed celebrate it slightly differently) .

Because I have no fuckijg idea of König's nationaloty anymore as it KEEOS CHANGING, I got the vest of both worlds 🥲🥲

Also been really busy guys😰😰😰by busy i mean stressing out ovee not writing then proceeding to NOT write bc im stressed❤️❤️🥰 you know jow it is!! 🤗(🔫) its ok tjo❤️(no it isnt) ill work tjis oit somejow🥹(no i wont im gonna kms) 🥰🥰

Have a very spooky halloween guys<3Feel bad foe those that are buying candy bc not onky is it smallwe than last uear but its more expensive 💔😟

[an0ma1y-th3d0ma1y]

ive been obsessed with this movie for the past week sooo

TRANSFORMERS ONE TICKLE HEADCANONS :33333

‼️SPOILERS AHEAD‼️

Orion Pax

LEE:

- Mostly gets wrecked for being a dumbass 😭

- His worst spots are his ribs, armpits, and abs

- His laugh is pretty chuckly if you just lightly trace around his tickle spots but will get wheezy very quickly

- Gets wrecked by Elita and D a lot, either because he was being an annoying prick or he was just feeling down

- Has a bunch of tickle fights with D, has a 50/50 chance of winning unless D is PISSED

- After he became Optimus Prime he didn’t fight back or squirm a lot in fear he would hurt the others (they don’t give a fuck)

- Overall big dummy who’s also a softie :’]

LER:

- FUCKING JACKASS

- That noise he made in the movie trailer when he was flipping Darkwing off. Yeah he does that shit when wrecking you

- “Coochie coochie cooo! Awe, what’s wrong? Don’t like when I do that?? Eh, I’ll just keep going!”

- Ok listen I know they’re robots and it makes no sense but HE WOULD BE SUCH A BIG RASPBERRY BLOWER.

- D and Bee are his biggest targets (mostly cause he could never get away with wrecking Elita. Still does sometimes)

- His tactic consists of alot of poking and pinching, can and will wreck you if you deserve it (or he just feels like it)

- Easily able to pin down his lee, especially after becoming Optimus prime and getting fucking BIG

- If you just need a pick me up, he’ll be a lot more gentle :) don’t think he won’t tease you though he’s still a dick

- Is one of the only people who can wreck D and actually get away with it (other than Elita, she just doesn’t do it as often)

- overal an asshole (I still love him very much mwah)

D-16

LEE:

- trust me bro if he was wrecked ONE TIME in the movie he would be redeemed trust

- Worst spots are his abs, neck, and overall joints

- EXTREMELY feather ticklish, gets all giggly and squeaky from it

- Will fight for his life while being tickled, you’ll be lucky if you don’t get punched in the face

- Once kicked Orion through a wall while he was tickling him. They both got in trouble and almost got demoted

- Absolutely DESPISES cleaning days for the sole purpose that they have to clean dirt and debris out of his joints

- Elita and Orion have to chase him down and pin him to even get started. (Orion teases him the entire time despite Elita telling him to knock it off)

- PHYSICALLY cannot say tickle. Orion teases him to death for this

- Gets very snorty if you wreck him hard enough, however you can sometimes unlock a sweet squeaky laugh from him

- Orion once got him to squeal after getting his knees, hasn’t let him live it down since

- GRR HES SO CUUUTEEEE

LER:

- oh he’s a fucking DEMON as a ler

- If Orion keeps on annoying him or is just being a dumbass he’ll wreck him till his wires are overheating

- Shakes his hands into your ribs/sides/tummy to get you to shriek

- Not a big teaser (mostly cause he flusters himself) but will say the occasional tease if he feels like it

- “Huh, never thought you sounded like THIS when laughing.. It’s like you’re a whole new person.”

- Chases with him are TERRIFYING. He had to give Bee a break before even wrecking him just cause he scared the poor guy half to death

- Even if he’s brutal with tickling, he’ll be more gentle if you just need a pick me up or asked him for it :)

- Him and Elita are the biggest lers on the team. If they ever got into a tickle fight it’d be never ending (jk he would lose lmao)

- Better hope you don’t piss him off..

B-127

LEE:

- Biggest lee on the team, also the boldest-

- Literal walking tickle spot, you could just poke him anywhere and he’ll flinch and giggle

- A lot more open with tickling than the others, will literally ASK you to tickle him

- He once straight up asked D to tickle him and just stood there with his arms open rocking on his heels. D physically couldn't (he got too flustered)

- Has a very bubbly laugh, will stammer and beg before even being tickled

- “W-wawawait we can talk about this rihight!?-“

- Actually DIES at raspberries, will actually scream. Elita nearly shot Orion after she thought he was killing Bee (he just gave him a raspberry)

- Is so smiley after getting wrecked it takes him so long to calm down

- Overall likes tickling because it grows bonds and it’s a fun silly thing to do :3

LER:

- literally sweetest ler ever

- Just wants to see his lee smile :D

- Isn’t a monster like D-16 but he can still get you pretty badly if he chooses to

- Gives a bunch of lil lovey teases and compliments that will drive you up the wall

- “Ohh, I love your laugh! And was that a squeak too?? You’re ADORABLE!”

- While he’s poking you he’ll make little “boop boop boop boop boop!” Sounds

- Along with the obvious KNIFE HANDS he can also make little electric bolts come out of his fingers; perfect for tickling.

- Can reduce anyone to TEARS with that shit, great for humbling if someone’s getting too snarky or is pissed

- Almost always starts tickle fights in the team, mostly just cause he wants to see them all laugh :D

- Along with not being able to handle raspberries is a raspberry blower himself

- Learned his lesson of ‘don’t give D raspberries’ after he was literally left hooked in the face

- Just a big ball of sunshine :D

Elita-1

LEE:

- isn’t the biggest lee but she’s got her moments :]

- Her worst spots are her hips and back

- Like D she’s a big squirmer, will punch and kick a whole lot

- Orion’s really the only one who can get away with tickling her, if she’s in a good mood that is

- Has a very cackly laugh, however you can get some sweet laughter out of her if you’re gentle and sweet enough :)

- Don’t be so confident, though. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a single poke on her

LER:

- her and D compete for biggest ler on the team PFNJRY

- She can be BRUTAL, especially if Orion or Bee are pissing her off

- She can’t exactly punch them in the face anymore and so she has to make SOMETHING work… luckily, that’s what tickling is for

- Will wreck you until you apologize (and say something nice about her)

- Uses her skills as a commander miner for teasing :3

- “Are you sorry?? I CANT HEAR YOU!!” (playfully ofc PFNRJG)

- Good luck in a chase with her, girlie is FAST

- Wins almost all the team tickle fights unless D is feeling extra mean

- i love her sm RAHHH

Sentinel Prime

LEE:

- okay i know we all hate him but i HAD to include him im sorry

- Worst spots are his ribs, hips, and back

- Has such a dad laugh, gets very cackly and wheezy if you manage to really break him

- His wings are also ticklish :3 you’ll get some yummy snickers out of him if you get em along with some wing flaps

- Protects his weak spots with his LIFE

- Im sorry I don’t have much for him 😭😭

LER:

- FUCKING. ASSHOLE.

- A bigger dick than Orion Pax if that’s even possible

- Will hunt you down and wreck you to shreds if he feels like it (or you’re being a dick)

- If you crumble to the ground he’ll follow you like a hawk and just get your bad spots

- does that fucking THING where he says shitty jokes while you’re laughing your ass off

- “Wow, I didn’t know my jokes were THAT good! I guess I’m just amazing like that, aren’t I?”

- With his size, he’s definitely gonna hold you under your arms and give you raspberries. Sorry, I don’t make the rules

- Digs his fingers in between your ribs or in the dips of your hips and just presses there repeatedly (lazy fuck)

- “Jeez, you’re laughing an awful lot.. I’m not even moving my fingers!” as you’re crying with laughter

- Will not let anyone escape his grasp until they’re completely worn out

- I hate him so much im glad he got snickers snapped

anyways uhhh I hope u guys like these :33333

[bratphilia]

would it be a bother to ask for a fic w a tomboy reader and william afton? ive been on such a kick w william afton x reader fics here since i watched the movie and i love all of them but i am not feminine in the slightest so if you could write one id be so grateful!! and age gap and size difference too would also be sooo 👌👌👌. thank you so much!!!

note ✧.*‎ this was a lil hard for me to write considering im on the girly-er side so if anything looks weird in relation to the premise i apologize in advance!! also so sorry for getting this out a lil later than promised.

pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎ age difference (reader is 18-21, william is 45-50), degrading, spanking, approximately two slaps to the face, blow jobs, rubbing through jeans? idk what to call that, coming in pants (fem)

taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity

synopsis ✧.*‎ while attending yet another meeting with your career counsellor, he has a few choice of words for you.

jeans (w. afton x reader)

you sit in mr. raglan's office, trying to sit straight up, legs crossed, not bouncing. he slightly shifts in his chair as he reads your file, moving his spinning chair from side to side, as he mentally scrutinizes your report. it's nerve-wracking. anyone in your shoes would feel this way, but the way he's intently reading over every little detail makes you squirm.

the worst part is, this isn't even the first time you've been in this exact position. it wouldn't be so bad if mr. raglan wasn't such a hard ass on you. always practically demanding answers of why you keep getting let go from the jobs he gives you, criticizing the tiniest details. nothing gets passed this guy, and yet here you are.

(there's something that almost riles you up about the way he talks to you, though. he has a habit of talking with those big hands of his in a way that makes your insides twist.)

"so you sit here in front of me..." he pipes up suddenly, looking at you then lifting a brow, "wearing jeans to a meeting, for christ sake, asking for yet another job, so what? you can get 'let go' again?"

"well, yes," you say, a little dumbstruck at his comment on your attire.

mr. raglan laughs shortly. "i got news for you, kid. people with your kinda track record don't exactly find jobs as easy as you think they do."

you hold back from rolling your eyes. your fists clench at your side angrily. you speak through gritted teeth, "look, i just need a job. i'll take anything, i'm desperate."

"hate to break it to you, but things just don't work like that—"

you've had it. "will you just stop being such an asshole and give me my damn options already?! i didn't come here to be lectured."

you're seething, breathless from your outburst. your heart is pounding but nothing can beat the jaw-slacked look on his face. there's a deafening silence that has you on the edge of your seat. then, shortly, "you come here for advice, and i'm giving it to you."

you want to say something again, you open your mouth to do so, but he raises a hand to silence you promptly. "you said you're desperate, hm? want my real, useful advice?"

you stare at him, not liking the direction of this conversation or his weirdly tone of dripping malice. "get the fuck on your knees then."

it's hot, you'll admit it. and he's the whole package too, total dad-i'd-like-to-fuck and all. this isn't your type of deal, but if he's gonna offer it to you, fuck it, you'll take it. you'll take everything this man gives you. "mr. raglan—" you say, purposefully furrowing your brows, trying to act scandalized for godsake—

"get your ass over here," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

you shut up, perking up at that, and make way to the open space between his legs. "look at you, you degenerate thing. on your knees for such a cause."

your head swims and the buzzing between your thighs becomes far too apparent to be ignored. but you're willing to wait for that relief. you part your lips expectantly, hoping he'd get the message to undo his pants and he just laughs at you. "filthy fucking thing wants my cock in her mouth so bad."

"uh-huh," you say, mouth still open.

he does away with all the restraints and guides his cock into your mouth. eagerly, you take him and lick up the underside of his dick, eliciting a groan from him. he makes a fist around your hair and guides your mouth up and down his cock, not caring about what you can and can't take and you fucking love it.

the noises of him hitting your gag reflex is music to the mouth of your ears. the way you push him out only for him to slide back in is truly a marvel. and the grunts, groaning, and degradations that come from him makes you want to take him even faster, more than what your body can handle, and he just laughs it off, commenting on much of an "eager, filthy thing" you are.

when you feel his helping hands thrust your mouth more erratically is when he decides to pull you off. he uses your hair to stand you up and practically shove you against the desk, back facing towards him. you yelp in pain, only adding to the ache in your stomach. he stands to his full height and you gulp. fuck, he's so much bigger than you, of course he can just throw you around like that. when you ask him if you should remove your clothes, he pauses for a moment, thinking. then, mischievously, "no, i want to make good use of those jeans."

curiously, you look back at him, but his fingers are pressing against your clothed pussy. he presses hard, letting the fabric grind on you. "oh, fuck," you moan.

"yeah? you like that?" he asks gruffly, rubbing your clit through your pants from side to side. usually this stimulation wouldn't be enough, but fuck you were so hot for him that you didn't care. "fuckin' dressed like a boy," he scoffs.

tears burn in your eyes, partly from his words, the other part from the stimulation. then he slaps you across the face. "i asked you a fucking question."

"yes!" you cry, moving a hand to rub at your stinging cheek. he grabs your hand and then slaps the other side of your face, just for fun. a few tears slip down your face at his physicality, but doesn't change that fact that you, "love it so much!"

"think you deserve to come?" he asks. "after that shit you pulled. you think you deserve it?"

you sniffle, knowing damn well what his answer's going to be. "well, i don't."

he removes his hands then promptly wipes them on his pants. you sob out, grasping for his hands but he pushes off of you. "you better come back with a better attitude if you expect anything more than what i gave you."

[boytumms]

I've been obsessed with this idea lately :

https://www.tumblr.com/boytumms/754337786957594624/jae-anon-again-lol-ive-got-too-much-inspiration?source=share

(It's the ask from the Joe anon where a giant invites a human for dinner and forces him to eat too much and he does, by politeness.)

And particularly the last sentence about convincing him to become his pocket boy.

And I thought that, next time, maybe the giant could give the human a bunch of little colorful beads, and tell him they are candy. And there's too much of course, but the human feels like it would be really impolite to refuse. And he'll be home soon, so he could still force himself to throw it up later.

Except that those weren't candies, they were orbeez, and now he's already feeling so full and bloated and the giant gives him a glass of water to feel better.

And when he starts feeling worse and worse, his stomach red and swollen, ready to burst, whimpering in pain, then the giant offers him to spend the night here. It's not like he can't refuse in this state.

In the morning the bloated beads have travelled down the pit of his stomach and he's trying so hard to expel them by his tight asshole but it's so painful..

Of course the giant can't let him do that, so he picks him up and pretends he has a more comfortable place for him. Maybe the human was just about to get one bead out, but as the giant closed his legs gently it was forced back up ?

Anyway, the giant lay them in a nice matchbox with a folded piece of clothing under them. And it sure is comfortable but the space is too cramped for him to spread his legs enough. So he's trying to beg the giant to help him, while this one pretends not to understand him.

Maybe, after a few days he finally "understands" and picks him up, "helping" him by pressing down on his stomach until all the little beads are squeezed out.

And he's so tired and out of it, maybe he should spend the night here again.

since they're a giant, imagine they use giant orbeez... Like there's the human giant orbeez that get about fist sized, but imagine giant giant orbeez that grow to the size of melons...

The giant squeezing the orbeez out for him too, that would be so painful for the poor guy, having his tummy crushed like that, it'd be so painful

[proshipconfessions]

I fucking hate antis. I used to be one, and I am still SURROUNDED by all this “liking fictional CSA means you’re icky and one of the bad victims and YOU WILL DO IT IRL!!!!” Bullshit.

People I admire and look up to end up saying it. My “friends” end up saying it. It’s everywhere. I often feel like I can’t trust anyone, not even my close friends who have already told me they don’t care what I’m into.

it’s terrifying. ive seen what antis have done to us, I’ve seen how easy it is for people like me to be exposed. I’ve seen how people will see you as nothing but the filth that soils everybody’s shoes; or the sick, drooling predators just waiting to strike. I’ve seen how people are isolated, abandoned, and even driven to kill themselves because Society just doesn’t fucking like freaks. And everybody on this app says that “most people are proship!!! It’s the normal opinion!! We’re the normal ones!!! ”

I CAN NEVER BELIEVE IT. where the fuck do you live??? People abhor my gayness. People abhor my true gender identity. People abhor the way I carry myself as an autistic person. PEOPLE HATE, SO FUCKING MUCH, and they hate what they think is weird. People don’t even get that Lolita isn’t endorsing what the main character does. if it’s so normal, then why is it so much MORE normal for people to react to the concept of lolicon with “oh, they must be nasty hairy pedophiles living in their mothers basements with tons of CP. it should be illegal!”? if it’s so normal, why is it more normal for self-righteous video essay YouTubers to treat “booktok girlies” like crass, pitiful zoo animals for liking taboo shit in their spice novels? Why do they always come to the conclusion that they’re all stupid old cunts who could never tell the difference between fictional abuse and real abuse?

if it’s so normal, then why is it more normal for people to make this fake binary of “proper, real sexual violence fiction” and “filthy, romanticizing sexual violence fiction?”

People in general Might understand you if you just say you make art about dark subjects. They might be “normal” about that.

But I know full and well that it would be a different story if I bring up fictional incest or CSA. It would be an especially different story if I mentioned that its not to cope with trauma, just to get off on.

…I probably have trust issues, and I have antis to thank for that. It’s getting so common in the media. I’m so sick of people telling me it’s commonly accepted. It is NOT. What I write is gross, triggering to most and seen as immoral to SO many people. Even people I love.

I make new friends, but I don’t let them get close. I’m always terrified/constantly thinking about them discovering that I’m a freak and leaving me— or worse, outing me to others. it’s actually why I’m too scared to start posting like I used to on tumblr. I know what I am. I don’t try to delude myself into thinking I’m “normal.” I am not, and maybe that’s okay.

I hate antis for what they’ve shaped me into. How their rhetoric that I clung to in fear for so long had shaped me into an uncaring, virtue-signaling asshole. I hate them for how I crumbled when I discovered I had become the very thing that my friends and role models swear to destroy. I hate their logic for getting into almost every fucking crevice of the internet and even my peers’ beliefs. This stuff ruined my mental state.

———