#like a really thick one??? maybe even a half ponytail........

[daistea]

Could you do a suggestive mithrun x tallman reader fic where the reader somehow managed to become friends with mithrun and they ask if they can touch his ears out of curiosity (I just like the idea of elf ears being sensitive)

Ya! This one was fun 💕 thanks for the prompt!

1800 words

Mithrun x Tall-man Reader

no tws except for smoochin and a suggestive tone

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You had a measure of decorum. Not much, though. A teaspoon, maybe. A teaspoon of decorum. Yet, that still existing decorum nearly stopped you from doing what you currently wanted the most:

To touch an elf’s ear.

Pattadol said no. Fleki laughed at you and said ‘keep dreaming’ as if you’d just hit on her. Lycion became a bit flirty in a way that threatened you. Cithis also said no. Otta… also said no, out of loyalty to her current partner. Otta’s response made you wonder what the implications of ear touching were to elves. Was it intimate? Was it embarrassing for them? Was it considered rude if you didn’t know the person well, like how using a half-foot’s first name was considered rude for strangers? That teaspoon of decorum caused you to hesitate.

Mithrun, though, wouldn’t care. Mithrun hardly cared about anything. And you were friends, sort of. He didn’t outright call you his friend, but that was fine, you could live with that. He put up with you. That was fine. Fine.

You knocked on the door of the little apartment above the noodle shop. Mithrun’s monotone, though muffled, voice told you to come inside. You found Mithrun on the floor, on his knees and hunched over the baseboards. He wielded a toothbrush like a dagger as he scrubbed at the nonexistent dust, and only spared you a glance, but said no greeting.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Mithrun clean like that. It was yet another habit Milsiril had instilled in him during rehabilitation, though you had a theory that Milsiril only taught him to clean so ardently because she thought it would come in handy for hiding murder evidence.

Mithrun’s home was simple. It was near empty aside from the most basic furniture. Yourself, Kabru, and several of the Canaries had given him little decorations. The pillows on the couch with the badly embroidered cows on them were from Otta. The simple, thick white curtains were from Pattadol. The painting of Mithrun’s assist dog dressed in royal garb was from Lycion. And most of the utensils in the kitchen were from you, given to him after you saw him attempt to eat spaghetti with a spoon— he knew better, but couldn’t be bothered to buy proper utensils.

As you took a moment to watch Mithrun scrub, your mind began to wander. Was this truly worth it? You’d only recently read about how soft elf ears were, yet you hadn’t been able to get the thought out of your mind. And they were so cute, too, with how they drooped and perked up. You’d even seen Mithrun’s ears droop when he pulled his hair back. It wasn’t as pronounced as other elves’ but no less endearing.

“What do you need?” Mithrun’s voice yanked you from your mind. It was as if he’d grabbed your shirt and pulled you forward, making you stumble for words.

It would be easiest to just blurt it out. He wouldn’t be offended. He might give you the look, but it wouldn’t bother him, surely. Yet, it was as if you’d hit a mental wall. What seemed like such a simple request ended up stuck in your throat, refusing to climb.

Mithrun sat back on his haunches and raised his head to look at you. He rested his forearms on his knees, toothbrush dangling from his fingers. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and there were his ears.

You knew that look. He was expecting something. And he would stare in silence until you blurted it out.

“I want something,” you finally said.

“I already asked what you wanted,” Mithrun reminded, monotone.

“Technically, you asked what I needed, and this isn’t really a need. I mean, it feels like a need, but it’s really not. I can live without it. However, I would like it. It would please me.”

Mithrun didn’t miss a beat, “And you know how much I wish to please you.”

“Okay, smartass, tone it down,” you put up a hand, shooting him a glare, “I’m really nervous, so don’t make this harder for me.”

“I wasn’t kidding.”

“No, you were being sarcastic.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic.”

“You’re just trying to make me squirm,” you accused, “you’ve become a sadist after regaining your desires, huh? You like watching me struggle?”

Mithrun only slightly raised a brow, “A bit. But use your ears, I wasn’t being sardonic.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but pause. “...I’m going to think about the implications of that statement at a later date. For now, on the subject of ears, I have a request.”

He finally stood, brushing past you to deposit the cleaning brush into the sink and washing his hands in a water basin. After drying them, he went to pull the rubber band from his hair, but you made a panicked squeak at the sight, which gave him pause.

“Don’t,” you pleaded as he looked at you blankly, “keep your hair up.”

If Mithrun was confused by the request, he gave no hint. He kept his hair up, though, as he strode through the little apartment and sat on the couch, gesturing for you to join him. You’d done this a hundred times before, sitting next to him in comfortable silence as you both focused on your own things— Cithis called it ‘parallel play’ as if you were kids on a playdate. You’d spent hours on this couch, resting an arm over the back of it as you curled your feet up and talked. Mithrun would usually cross his arms and fold one leg over the other, staring at the wall as if he were ignoring you. He wasn’t, he never did— sometimes he did, but you forgave him.

You took a deep breath as you plopped down beside him gracelessly, your nerves taking over your joints and rendering you a clumsy mess. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, though, it wasn’t as if this was a big request. It would only last a few seconds, and you’d have your curiosity sated. If Mithrun didn’t want you to touch his ears, he would simply tell you, and you’d both move on with your lives.

Yet, Otta’s earlier answer rang in your mind. She wouldn’t let you touch her ears ‘out of loyalty.’ What did that mean?

It was yet another statement that you’d have to consider at a later time. For the moment, you tried your best to get comfortable as the request rose in your chest. It was undeniable.

The words broke through the dam and flooded your mouth. “I would like to touch your ears, please.”

You watched as Mithrun stiffened. His good eye widened for half a second before he schooled his expression. He didn’t look at you, gaze glued to the wall, but the slight raise of his brows betrayed his surprise. Surprise. Why was he surprised? Was ear touching offensive in elven culture? Mithrun didn’t even acknowledge elven culture most of the time.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he looked at you. Your heart clenched and it felt as if someone had punched both your lungs, but you managed a smile. You knew you looked stupid, shoulders slumped and eyes wide and smile shaken. But he didn’t look at you like you were stupid, he looked at you like you’d just spoken gibberish.

“You want to feel my ears?” He asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, I like soft things, and they look pretty soft. I asked the other Canaries first and they all said no.”

Mithrun cracked a little smile. It was barely there, but you could feel the amusement coming off him in waves. “Of course they would all say no. They know better.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but he’d yet to give you a straight answer. “Whatever. Can I please just feel them, at least a little? Then I’ll never ask you for anything again.” (That was a lie and you both knew it.)

Nonetheless, Mithrun’s gaze flickered around the room. It didn’t look like he was scanning anything in particular, but rather letting the thought absorb. Once he returned to you, he slowly nodded, “I doubt I have any nerve endings left, so it’s fine.”

Nerve endings? It didn’t matter, you were so close to your goal. Some called you single minded, you preferred the description of ‘determined.’

Slowly, you raised a hand. The moment felt monumental. The air was thick with anticipation that set you on edge, raising the little hairs on your arms. You let out an exhale as if to prepare yourself, then gently brushed your fingers on the soft skin of his cut ears.

You traced the jagged tip. Then the lobe. Then the back. Mithrun leaned into your touch and his eyes threatened to flutter shut, but he managed to send you a look, “Don’t look so excited.”

“Yes, sir,” you answered immediately as you tried to school your expression.

He let his guard down, his eyes shutting as he exhaled slowly. There was a hint of gravel in that exhale that sparked a fire in your lower abdomen.

You should probably stop.

“There are definitely nerve endings left,” he murmured.

You gently took his other ear and began rubbing the tip.

Mithrun lowered his head a little, brows furrowing and lips forming a frustrated frown. He leaned in. Only when you looked down did you notice how tightly he gripped his pants. His knuckles were turning white. The sight just made you want to press a little harder…

Wait.

If you’re getting hot, and if Mithrun is breathing that heavily, then—

Otta’s words made sense. Lycion’s flirting made sense. Elf ears are erogenous zones.

You’d asked every Canary if you could basically touch their privates.

More horrifyingly, you’d asked Mithrun if you could touch his—

It felt as if your face was on fire. You tensed, slowly pulling back, but Mithrun’s hands went to your cheeks before you could react. And his lips were on yours. Eager. Hungry. That spark in your abdomen flared and spread and suddenly you were a bonfire. He held your face a bit roughly, and the kiss was desperate. You should probably kiss back, you thought.

You let yourself melt into the feeling, but kept your fingers on his ears, gently massaging the soft skin. He let out a gasp between kisses before diving back in. His chest pressed against yours and you took the hint to lean back on the couch so he could slip between your legs and consume you entirely.

The mortification concerning the fact that you’d unknowingly sexually harassed all your friends was temporarily set aside. At the moment, all you knew was Mithrun, and this new power over him that your curiosity had bestowed upon you.

You will, most likely, use it for evil.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[mabelstone]

Common Tongue

hozier x f!reader

part five of lullabies <3 | part four | masterlist

cw: 18+, oral sex, a lot of this is sex ok u should know me by now, the word 'balls', not much plot tbh

word count: 4.1k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure @the-imperfectgirl-blog @l1nd3n @yunonaneko xo

I woke in the delicious warmth of Andrew’s arms, his soft breaths against my neck sending a chill down my spine. I gently nuzzled into his touch, his arms autonomously holding me tighter. For the next week and a half, this was my morning routine. Also part of the morning routine was the part where I would slip out of his grip as gently as possible when I was on the verge of weeing myself.

I’d slip back into bed, entranced by the way sleep drenched breaths swam through the small parting of his lips. The way his muddy greens danced under his eyelids as he dreamt, and the way his thick lashes swept along his high cheekbones made it near impossible for me to look away.

We danced around the fine line of being lovers, friends, and fuck buddies, not even entertaining the thought of defining what we were. I knew it was all probably moving too fast considering I’d just gotten out of a relationship. Not that I really cared - Andy had a way of numbing me. Numbing the heartbreak in a way that I didn’t even have to acknowledge it. He made me feel happy and sexy and loved, if that’s what you’d call it.

Like he could feel it, he’d wake to me watching him, causing me to blush profusely and apologise. He’d either pull me in and kiss my neck and forehead, or remind me with a grin, “staring is rude, y’know,” in his deep, groggy morning voice. It was rare to catch him watching me sleep as I was the early riser of the two of us. But during the day, I’d swear I was his favourite sight. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

This past week also consisted of numerous phone calls to Andy, all from producers begging to sign him to their labels. I was so ecstatic for him, but of course, he was overtly humble as always. After doing his research and attending a few meetings, he decided to go with Rubyworks.

“Andy!” I threw myself into his arms excitedly, squeezing him so hard, I thought he might implode. “I’m so proud of you… we have to celebrate!”

“I’dunno, baby…” he sighed, raking his hands through the back of my hair while I melted into his touch. “This all might blow up in my face yet.”

“Don’t talk rubbish!” I scolded him, peeling my face away with my arms still around him so he could see me frown. “And you deserve to be celebrated. And we have no plans for dinner. Please?”

“Because you’ve twisted my arm,” he gave in, bending down slightly to capture my lips in his. As if I had any control at this point, I autonomously kissed him back, a squeak leaving me when he effortlessly picked me up and sat me on his kitchen island.

He deepened the kiss, one of his hands squeezing my thigh, the other tangled in my hair. I sighed against him, my hands skating across his abdomen. His tongue slipped into my mouth, forcing me to swallow a grunt of his. Both of his hands now slipped up my thighs, stopping just at the crease of my hip with a firm squeeze.

“You’d better stop,” he warned, pupils blown.

“Or what?” I teased, hands now gripping his biceps. Fuck dinner. I’ll give him something better to eat.

“You’ll see later,” he promised with a kiss to my temple, sliding his hands off me. “Let’s get ready now, or it’ll be impossible to drag me out of this house.”

“Fine,” I sighed in faux disappointment, hopping off the table and dragging him behind me by his hand.

I put on my favourite dress; a flowy black number with a corset like top that did me lots of favours in the breast department. I wore some simple three inch heels, sheer black stockings, and a faux leather coat. My hair was slicked back into a wavy ponytail, complimented by some chunky gold jewellery to break up all the darks I had on. I wore Andrew's favourite perfume of mine, Jimmy Choo's Eau De Parfum. I'd always had an illustrious love for fashion, but oftentimes Joe had an issue with my style. Not Andy, though. His jaw just about hit the floor and he looked as if he were close to calling off our plans and just taking me to bed instead. Not that I would have protested... but no, tonight was about him.

He looked edible in a black button up and brown jacket, with those white converse's that were basically fused to his feet at this point. He trimmed his beard down and has doused himself in Tam Dao by Diptique, and when I say he smelt divine, I mean, I considered calling off our plans as well.

At first, we found ourselves in a cheesy karaoke bar that was walking distance from his house. We threw back a couple shots, laughing and cheering on both the good and… not so good performances. Andy always said that despite the voice he was gifted with, he hated singing karaoke. I eventually convinced him to duet Islands in the Stream with me. It was the most fun I’d ever had. He then gave his own rendition of Sex Bomb, and I hate to admit it, but it did something to me. We snacked on shitty street food as we passed through the weekend markets, enjoying our tipsy people watching.

After that, we found a dim lit bar in the west end with live music and cheap drinks for happy hour. We caught a taxi and walked hand in hand from the car to our booth. For once, I loved having everyone's eyes on us. I wanted everyone to see us together, though we weren't really together.

The combination of the sultry jazz band in the background mingling with the effects of too much alcohol too fast had me sliding my foot up his leg, getting a high from watching his eyes darken as he squirmed. He gave me a warning look, to which I innocently sipped at my drink and averted my head to the band, gently applying pressure to his crotch. I felt his hand grip my ankle, and when I thought he'd move me away, he ran his hands up my leg instead, stopping only when he reached my knee. I turned my head back to him quickly, my core growing hot at the feeling. He looked gorgeous, curls framing his face, his eyes fixed on me as if I were the most interesting thing in the room.

His stare challenged mine, almost daring me to keep going. The look in his eyes screamed, "see what will happen," and I have never been one to turn down a dare.

Drunkenly, I slid my finger around the rim of my glass, bringing the salt to my lips as I sucked my finger clean, making effort to show my tongue at first. I pushed it in far deeper than necessary, almost able to hear the way his breath hitched in his throat. His grip on my ankle tightened, and I applied a bit more pressure with my heel.

"I swear to God, I will throw you into a cab right now," his eyes were hooded and narrowed in on me. It felt like a stand off between a predator and prey, despite feeling nothing but safety in his presence.

"You wanna take me home, big boy?" I teased, relishing in the way his cheeks flushed when I used the ridiculous pet name. He loved a good double entendre. Well, triple entendre, really.

I reached across the table to grab his hands, running my thumb over his knuckles. Despite the often heated nature of our exchanges recently, I'd never felt more loved. Maybe that was the wrong word, it was too soon. I'd never felt more secure.

He abruptly got up from the booth, dragging me to the dance floor with him. I laughed wildly, the alcohol buzzing through both of our veins like a freight train. “You hate dancing!”

“I know!” He shouted back over the music, pulling me in close to him by my waist. “But you’re beautiful and you’ve been force feeding me whiskey.”

“Hardly force feeding,” I scoffed, slapping his arm playfully. We swayed to a cover of I’d Rather Go Blind by Etta James, giggling uncontrollably at how uncoordinated we both were. It didn’t matter, it felt good.

Then there was the feeling of someone bumping into me hard, followed by the cold of a drink soaking the back of my legs. I gasped, pushing myself further into Andy to get away from the feeling.

“Sorry,” the woman spoke with no sign of remorse in her tone or expression. Andy was quick to grab a handful of napkins from the table beside us, wiping me down as I blushed embarrassedly. I was sure I was hallucinating when I looked up and saw Joe smirking. Fucking loser.

“Andy,” I pulled him up by his coat from where he was wiping me down. “Let’s go.”

“It’s okay, darlin’, you can’t even tell-“

“No, Joe is here. Let’s leave, please.” I felt hot and nauseous immediately, the glint in his eye from across the room all too familiar. He was going to make me pay for leaving him.

Andrew’s expression turned unreadable, yet he still nodded and stayed close behind me as I quickly fled the bar. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I nodded, acutely aware of how dry my throat felt. “He’s just unpredictable, I’d rather not deal with him tonight. Or, ever for that matter.”

He just hummed in response, lacing his fingers with mine. He pulled out his phone to order us an Uber. I tried to protest, insisting that we hadn’t celebrated him enough. He shushed me with a kiss, reassuring me that tonight was wonderful and he was grateful. I leaned into his body while we waited in the cold, his arm around my shoulder as we watched the traffic pass us by.

“So you are with him?” Joe scoffed, seeming to appear out of thin air. I startled at his voice, scolding myself internally for peeling away from Andy so quickly. “And you couldn't fuckin' wait for the chance to steal her, could you?"

“We aren’t together,” I quickly interjected, ignoring the way Andy’s face faltered at my clarification. “And even if I was, we are over. It’s over. Don’t you understand?”

“I understand that you can’t keep your legs shut.”

I was taken aback by his comment, unable to think of a snarky reply as my cheeks warmed and my jaw slackened.

"That's no way to speak to a woman, show some fuckin' respect," Andrew growled, stepping closer to my ex, absolutely towering over him. Joe tried to get in his face, both of them puffing their chests out like two pigeons. It was kind of sexy. Is that horrible to say?

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Joe bit back, grabbing a fistful of Andrew's shirt.

"Stop!" I shrieked, grabbing Andrews' wrist, trying my hardest to get him away from Joe. "I want to go home."

"Home?" Joe seethed through gritted teeth, his face red as a traffic light.

Andrew shoved Joe back, sending him stumbling, barely finding his footing.

"Andy, I want to go home," my voice was fragile as I tugged on his wrist once more, his expression immediately softening when he saw tears in my eyes. He took my hand in his, leading me away as he checked to see if Joe was hanging around. Looks like the security guard saw him, thankfully.

The Uber rolled up two minutes later and I couldn't have climbed in any quicker. I was beyond grateful to be in a warm car rather than out in the cold with Joe.

"That was fuckin' scary," I huffed, throwing my head back against the headrest.

"I'm sorry," he cooed with a gentle hand threading through my hair. "I shouldn't have said anything to him."

"That was not your fault," I assured him, turning to look at those big, doe eyes that were starting to make me weak.

He gave me a half hearted smile and sat in silence for the rest of the drive. I wondered what he was thinking, but felt it was probably best to just let him feel how he needed to. When we got home, we thanked the driver and walked into Andrews house in silence.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently, standing by as he shucked his coat.

"Yeah," he sighed with a shake of his head, though it wasn't convincing in the slightest.

"Did I do something? Or, say something?" I prodded further, softly taking his hand so he'd look at me.

"Really, it's no big deal," he gave me a half hearted smile, squeezing my hand once before heading for the stairs. "I'm gonna go shower."

I watched as he walked away, wracking my brain for anything that could have happened. Surely seeing Joe didn't upset him.

Then I remembered how fast I was to reassure my ex that Andy and I weren't exclusive. Fuck. I planned out my approach in my head for a while so I didn't dig the knife in deeper.

When I made it to his room, he was in his closet with dampened curls and a towel around his waist, looking for clothes, I presume. I knocked softly to let him know I was at the door.

"Andy?"

He hummed in response, turning only his head to me.

"Is it because I said we aren't together?"

He huffed some half witted laugh, almost as if he were embarrassed.

I walked closer to him, taking his hand into mine. "Well we aren't officially together, Andy." I sighed. "But I guess we kind of are together, aren't we?"

That caught his eye.

"And," I continued, "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with right now." I took his face into my hands, pulling him close as I softly kissed him. His mouth was much warmer than mine and he smelt so fresh and delicious.

Each time we kissed, something deep inside of me sparked like a flint and steel. The near palpable electricity of that spark conducted its way through my lips straight to his. We found a steady rhythm that was soon forgotten, replaced by tongue and teeth, desperate for more. Without breaking contact, we staggered back onto the bed, only the cotton of his towel and the nylon of my stockings keeping our bodies separated. My hands tugged at his soft auburn curls, eliciting encouraging hymns of appraisal that I wished I could devour. His hands dug into my hips harder than he ever had. Not hard enough to hurt me, but hard enough to let me know he wanted me just as bad as I did him.

I moved my mouth to his neck, sucking at his delicate skin, feeling his pulse against my lips. He shuddered and gasped, desperately trying to grind my body against his. The sinful noises he made only made me crave him more, only made me yearn for his beautiful rhapsodies. To hear them alone, without the deafening ring of my own pleasure in my ears, to hear them without my own pants and sighs overwhelming his. Just him, all of him.

"Andy, I really want to suck your cock," I blurted, pulling away to look at him through drooped eyelids. "May I please?"

"Good manners," he joked, his eyes even more lidded than my own. "Of course, baby." He pulled me in for another kiss, his tongue gliding against mine as I let a hand trail down his stomach and underneath his towel. I felt him twitch in my hand as I started to stroke him, his groans reverberating in my mouth.

I had never wanted to knob somebody off so bad. I always hated it with whoever else I was sleeping with. There was something about Andy. He was such a giver that it felt wrong not to give him something back. Like I'd be missing out on a sacred experience if I didn't do it right now. There was no part of me that didn't get pleasure out of pleasuring him.

I pulled my lips from his, sliding down between his legs. I kissed from his jaw to his collarbones, to his chest and then his stomach, watching goosebumps form along his creamy skin, his calloused hands skating along my forearms.

I finally freed him from the towel, watching his cock jump against his happy trail. I took him into my hand, pumping his length a few times to see his facial expression change. My God, was it the most divine sight. Unable to hold off any longer, I licked a flat stripe over his tip, his precum dancing on my tongue.

"Fuck," he practically gasped, gently grabbing the back of my head.

I slowly wrapped my lips around his tip using one of my hands to guide him into my mouth. Without taking his eyes off me, he reached behind his head for a pillow, staring at me like he might die if he looked away. I didn't dare take my eyes off his.

I slowly took more of him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him as I did so. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, borrowing a whimper from my mouth working around him. I pulled off briefly to blink up at him, "tell me how you like it, please."

He whimpered some response, nodding desperately. I put my mouth on him again, looking up for further instruction.

"Stick your tongue out a little," he breathed, the faintest of smiles on his face. "Good, now start movin', baby."

I nodded best I could with my mouth full, bobbing my head at a steady rhythm. I looked up at him through my lashes, my stomach flipping at the sight before me.

"Gooood girl," he praised me, freeing one of his hands from my hair to brush his thumb over my cheek. "Can you go a little faster, angel?"

I hummed in agreement, moving my head along his length faster, keeping my tongue out along the base the way he liked, making sure to hollow my cheeks the best I could. Not that there was much room for that. I moved one hand to steady myself against his thigh, the other slipping down to massage his balls.

"Jesus Christ," he moaned, throwing his head back. "Yeah, that's it. Just like that." My stomach flipped, my core on the verge of boiling over. I swear I could get off on the sight and sounds of him alone.

I took him as deep as I could, fighting off the urge to gag as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. My jaw was aching and tears were threatening to fall from my eyes, but I was determined. I could tell he was close by the unsteady rhythm of his breathing.

He gave my hair a firm tug, a warning, almost as if to give me the option to pull off. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you keep going."

I hummed in acknowledgement, no shred of intention to stop in my body.

"Where, baby?" He breathed, the muscles in his stomach beginning to tense. I traced a few shapes with my tongue as a form of communication, my way of showing him where, looking up at him. "Christ, Y/N," he groaned, spilling hot ribbons onto my tongue, his hips stuttering beneath me. I kept my mouth on him as he rode out his high, his face contorted in ecstasy, brows furrowed, mouth agape as his euphonious appraisals slipped from it.

I pulled off, my lips swollen and red, mascara no doubt running down my cheeks, and now uncomfortably horny.

Like he could read my mind, he sat up pulled me into his lap, now kissing my neck. His beard scratched across my collarbones in the most tantalising way, his hands working quickly to unzip my dress. He did so with ease, slipping the material off my shoulders where it pooled in our laps.

"You are perfect," he sighed against my skin, kissing me hard as he palmed one of my breasts. I whimpered against him, my hands in his hair as he buried his face in my chest. One of his hands cradled the bottom of my skull, the other guiding my breast to his mouth as he flicked his tongue across my nipple.

"Andy," I whined, pure need unmistakable in my tone. "Mmh, need you, baby."

He flipped me onto my back without warning, sliding down the bed between my thighs. His eyes were hungry, almost primal. Despite his release only moments prior, he had determination written all over his face as he buried his face between my thighs, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses through my stockings. "Please, I need you now. Please, please," my voice was whinier than I'd ever heard it, so much so I almost didn't recognise it.

My dress was still bunched around my waist, but he didn't seem too inconvenienced. My stockings, however, had no chance of surviving this one. In one fluid movement, he ripped through the crotch of my stockings, tearing them thigh to thigh. I gasped, my stomach flipping at the gesture. He pulled my knickers to the side, sliding his tongue over my clit without warning. Instantly, my back was arching autonomously, my head already thrown back against the mattress.

His tongue flitted against me with expert precision, switching between sucking and licking. "Tell me how you like it," he spoke against me, the vibrations from his voice combined with his soft lips against the most sensitive part of my body making my head go fuzzy. I couldn't even respond, only able to fumble around for his hand.

He slipped two fingers in with ease and I nearly screamed in pleasure. Lewd, wet noises filled the room, my whines and moans somehow even louder than the physical proof of my arousal. His deft fingers worked me to the fastest orgasm known to man, hitting my g-spot with each thrust, his tongue signing love letters onto my clit.

I chanted his name like a mantra, desperately clinging to the bedsheets beneath me as I completely lost myself under his touch. The most incredible feeling ever ripped through my every nerve ending, every fibre, every atom of my being. I shook uncontrollably beneath him, toes curled, eyes screwed shut as I made noises nobody else had ever torn from me. This must be what heaven feels like.

I finally came back down to Earth, panting like I'd ran a marathon. Andy wiped his mouth on the towel, the most satisfied grin I'd ever seen plastered to his face.

"Andy, I-" I stammered, genuinely lost for words as I laid my head on his chest. "I owe you the world. What do you want? Whatever it is, it's yours."

"Are you kiddin' me?" He laughed exasperatedly, kissing my forehead. "I should be givin' you the world. That was the closest to a religious experience I've ever had."

"You'd better write a song about this," I half joked, shimmying my dress off finally.

"Way ahead of ya', darlin'," he sighed in content. "I need to do that more."

"You ruined my stockings, Andy," I sighed in faux disappointment, "but that might have been the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

Then he was back to his shy self, a bashful grin on his face that he covered with his arm, leaving my heart to soar within my chest.

Fuck. I was catching proper feelings. Like... proper. Like, L-Word feelings. The realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks. Andy was to go and record some songs next week. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he got really famous and left me behind? Was I just sex? Was he just a rebound? It all has really moved fast, I shouldn't be getting attached...

"I'm gonna shower," I smiled politely, excusing myself before he had a chance to say anything.

A million thoughts raced through my mind at once. Was I trying to sabotage this for myself? It felt nice to be clean, a nice reset. The water defrosted me, made me feel centred again. I dried off and slipped into one of his hoodies.

"I need to tell you something," I blurted, unable to stop the words from coming out as I walked back into his room.

i did some googling and there might be some confusion (or maybe not, but just in case) when i say stockings i mean toe to hip tights/hosiery. i'm australian lol i apologise if some things don't make sense... i don't like the word hosiery ok

[suzukiblu]

AND! Tim/Not Kon! Carefully navigating a relationship with someone you created to replace your dead best friend, but fell in love with as themself!

“I think you made me kind of a slut, man,” Hunter muses, which would probably not have made Tim choke quite so hard if Hunter hadn’t been speculatively dragging his eyes up his body while he said it.

The part where the other’s draped over the nearest weight bench in this Titans Tower training room and wearing literally nothing but running shorts and sneakers isn’t helping either.

Also Hunter definitely needs a haircut because his hair grew down past his shoulders in development and he didn’t want to cut it after, but Tim is just not emotionally capable of dealing with the barely-restrained curly ponytails and half-ponytails and man-buns he’s been wearing. Just–not even slightly, no. Not even a little bit. 

“You are literally a virgin,” Tim says inanely, trying very hard not to drop either his bo or his literal entire brain on the mats. “I–what? What?” 

Hunter shrugs; rolls onto his back on top of the bench. It leaves him bent backwards over it, back arched and head upside-down as he skims a hand up his bare stomach. Hunter is, somehow, even more tactile and hedonistic than Kon ever was, which Tim is very suddenly being reminded of. 

He debates the merits of panicking. Or maybe, like, running for his life. 

“I said, I think you made me kind of a slut, man,” Hunter repeats, like that’s the part that Tim was trying not to drop his brain over. “Like, either libido-wise or uploads-wise, I dunno.” 

“Wh–I didn’t put anything like–I didn’t–” Tim half-sputters, and the crushing depression that’s taken over most of his life since everyone died on him and Bruce disappeared and Dick gave Robin to Damian is possibly actually just too baffled to be crushing him right now. Hunter gives him a lazy, half-lidded look, tipping his head back a little farther on his neck. His throat is . . . his throat is very, very exposed. And thick. And long and strong and stubbled and– 

Nrgnk, Tim thinks, very faintly.

He did not ever look at Kon’s throat and think things like that. 

He is definitely, definitely thinking those things about Hunter’s, though. 

“Oh my god, you fuckin’ sad-ass wet canary, I don’t mean I think you did it on purpose,” Hunter snorts in exasperation, rolling his eyes like Tim’s an idiot or something. Tim is not an idiot. Tim is actually, like, reasonably intelligent and–he made Hunter. That required being pretty damn smart, actually! Really damn smart, actually! 

. . . and also unfathomably, unfathomably stupid, admittedly. 

“Then what do you mean?” he asks warily, because Hunter is about a month and a half “old”, except also more like nineteen, and has already decided that he does not give a single telekinetically-flying fuck about things like social graces or social filters and it’s frankly a miracle that nobody’s killed him for that yet. Or, uh. Tim. Or killed Tim for that. 

Cassie definitely thought about it, he knows. 

Seriously, though, just–as bad as Kon ever was about anything, Hunter has definitely actively decided to be worse. Which is admittedly a very “Kon” kind of decision to make, except also just . . . absolutely nothing like Kon, at the same time. Hunter literally does not even care that Superman exists, for one thing, and has about as much interest in wearing the “S” as Lex Luthor does, but also does not care Luthor exists either. Like–impressively does not care about either of their existences, in fact. 

Tim might have, uh, overcompensated a little while trying to make sure the “Kon” he was making wouldn’t have as many issues about his gene donors as the real one had, but also Hunter might just be that goddamn contrary. It’s unclear, at this point. 

“Oh, like I keep thinking about fucking climbing somebody,” Hunter says. “Like, literally? I’m pretty sure I could do it literally. You know, could float a bit if I had to, whatever.” 

“I mean, you’re very, uh–tactile,” Tim attempts awkwardly, really not knowing how to approach this conversation. “And still only have about five minutes of experience with actual human contact, but also teenage hormones? So wanting to, uh–be tactile with a lot of people isn’t necessarily, you know . . . uh.” 

“I meant I wanna climb somebody specific, Wet Canary,” Hunter corrects dryly, rolling his eyes again. “Not like, literally everyone I know. Well–okay, also Starfire and Nightwing. But like, Starfire and Nightwing, so can you blame me?” 

“I plead the fifth,” Tim says, since that is his sort-of-brother and his sort-of-brother’s situationship that Hunter is talking about right now and he just . . . he just needs the plausible deniability there at least, okay? And also does not have the time to have a sexuality crisis right now either. Like, that’s just not going to fit in his schedule, despite all Hunter’s–Hunter-ness being a thing. 

“Maybe also Red Hood,” Hunter muses speculatively, drumming his fingers on his stomach. Tim . . . does not know how he feels about that. At all. Either the fact that Hunter is talking like he’s actually attracted to guys, or the fact that one of the guys he apparently finds attractive is Jason.

“You know he literally beat me half to death once, right?” he reminds him. Hunter smirks at him. 

“Yeah, and I bet he looked hot as fuck doing it,” he says. 

“. . . . . . I plead the fifth,” Tim mutters. Hunter drops his head back even further on his neck and cackles. Tim does not think anything about his throat. Like–definitely he does not. 

“Also I would definitely sit in your Bat-daddy’s lap, if you guys ever figure out if he’s dead or not,” Hunter decides, nodding to himself as he says it. 

Tim falls off the mats. Or like–the floor, maybe? Like–that’s just what happens, yeah. Hunter laughs at him again. 

“I hate you,” Tim mutters extremely feelingly, attempting to just . . . just attempting, maybe. Literally he does not even know what he’s “attempting”, except maybe to not to have a heart attack at eighteen and a half. 

“Aw, too bad, ‘cuz you literally made me so therefore you did this to yourself,” Hunter replies with a broad grin. Tim definitely hates him. “Maybe you should work on all that self-punishing shit, man, you coulda made a way nicer guy than me.” 

“I was trying to make Kon, that really would not have happened,” Tim retorts dryly, and then wonders when exactly his dark humor got this dark. Well–logically, it would’ve been somewhere around all the dead people and all, he guesses, but still. 

“Really, because literally no one has described that dude to me as anything but, like, a socially-awkward marshmallow who was just constantly fronting whatever overbearing ‘please like me’ behavior he thought would work,” Hunter says, giving him a wry look. “Literally. Literally no one. I think the dog thinks he was a marshmallow, in fact.” 

“Right, and you’re so hardcore and edgy over there,” Tim says, eyeing him briefly. 

“I mean I’m capable of, like, things like saying ‘no’ to people who aren’t active supervillains actively trying to murder somebody not me,” Hunter replies reasonably. “So I’d like to think I’m at least, like, nougat or something. Maybe a caramel.” 

“You are not even Nutella, Hunter,” Tim says, and Hunter laughs again and then rolls back over and shifts up to straddle the weight bench, his thighs very . . . thighs about it. Tim tries not to be a weird little freak about said thighs, but in no way is he not a weird little freak about said thighs. 

Jesus, why are they so thighs. 

Hunter leans forward, bracing his hands on the end of the weight bench. Tim pretends to be oblivious to the existence of the other’s pecs and that big broad grin he’s back to wearing. It’s not like he’s not used to seeing totally different people wearing that face, between Kon and Match and literal Superman, and also like . . . Superboy Prime, fuck that guy forever, but Hunter still manages to look just a little bit more different than that, somehow. 

Tim literally does not even understand his own brain sometimes. Or at all, maybe. 

“I just keep thinking about doing the climbing, is all,” Hunter says. Tim forces his incomprehensible excuse for a brain back on track. “Like, the specific climbing of a specific somebody, mostly, but still a lot of climbing in general. And also how to convince said somebody to teach me how to have sex, like, in a way that is not the high school-level sex ed course somebody uploaded into my brain. Though like, that’s also a thing I keep thinking about.” 

“That doesn’t sound like you’re a slut, that sounds like you have a crush on someone,” Tim says, a little perplexed. “Or, uh, a psychosexual obsession with. But let’s hope for ‘crush’.” 

“Oh,” Hunter says, looking pretty perplexed himself. “Huh.” 

“The part where you’re perving on Nightwing, Red Hood, and Batman might be a little much, though,” Tim says dryly, mostly to move the conversation along before Hunter says anything that–

“Well, yeah,” Hunter replies with a shrug, leaning forward a little heavier on his hands. “”Cuz they’ve all got that same Bat-vibe somebody’s got.” 

“. . . what,” Tim says. 

“I really did not think I was being subtle here, dude,” Hunter says, raising an eyebrow at him. “Like, at any point.” 

“I literally made you,” Tim says, staring at him in disbelief. 

“Yeah, do you wanna maybe try some daddy kink and see how that goes?” Hunter asks, cocking his head with a thoughtful expression. “I feel like maybe we could do something with that.” 

“Asdfghjk,” Tim says, and falls off the floor again. 

“Like, no pressure, just asking,” Hunter says with another shrug. 

Okay, Tim thinks. Maybe Hunter’s right, and he did kind of make him kind of a slut, one way or the other. Like–maybe. Possibly. 

And maybe Hunter is also right about him having done this to himself, considering.

[doginabirdcage]

a muse by any other name

InuKag Week 2024. Prompt: contrast. I love this fic format and have been wanting to play with it for a while. I hope you like it too.

FIVE MINUTES BEFORE

Inuyasha is in the throes of a fitful reenactment of the path that led to his destruction. Kikyo's arrows were hurtling towards him at a vengeful speed. He could hear them sizzle as they made contact with everything except his flesh, but his gracefulness didn't last forever.

The arrow that hit him burned on the way through. It carved away at him for fifty years. He would never be the same again.

DAYS AFTER

Kagome stormed away from him, her ponytail swishing angrily with her movements. Looking at her dressed as a priestess was fucking with him. He was already on edge around her and this didn't help.

He ran after her, "Don't leave with the shards!"

HALF A CENTURY AGO

Kikyo calmly walked up a grassy knoll to meet him. He could see a creepy cave over her shoulder. The inside looked gloomy and dark. Thick dirt-covered roots hung over the mouth of the entrance.

"What's in there?"

"His name is Onigumo," she sighed, "he's a bandit with severe burns. He is..."

"Weird!" Young Kaede peeked out from behind her older sister.

"Hush now, Kaede. Whatever he's done, we cannot judge him. He's not long for this world."

DURING

Her smell was a combination of the familiar and the novel. Her face was eerily similar but uniquely different from Kikyo's. Her anger was captivating, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her because of it. That and she had the sacred jewel inside of her a moment ago.

HOURS AFTER

Old Kaede was dressing the girl's wounds and she hissed in pain when the bandages were smoothed over.

"Stop whinin'. You're alive, ain't you?"

"No one asked you!" She sat up too quickly and grimaced.

"Pay him no mind, Kagome. The boy is just mad that ye collared him."

"Right," she said smugly, "Sssss..."

Inuyasha flinched and stared at her accusingly. “Don't do it!"

"Then don't be mean!"

MONTHS LATER

Inuyasha stared at the arrow in the wall with disbelief. Was this really happening all over again?

"Why?"

Beads of sweat dripped down Kagome's forehead as she struggled to aim her bow at him. "G-get away... Inuyasha!"

His feet were glued to the floor. Tsubaki was controlling Kagome. Nothing could make him leave her.

"Idiot! As if I would leave you right now!"

He ran head first into her arrowhead, consequences be damned.

FIVE HUNDRED YEARS IN THE FUTURE

"Put this cap and shoes on, Inuyasha. No one can see your ears. Don't make that face! You want to try WacDonald's, don't you?"

"I'm not sure it's worth the cost," he grumbled silently as Sota bounced around merrily at their feet.

"I can't wait for you to try barbecue sauce!"

Even though his ears were molded to his head the whole time because of the hat and his feet were imprisoned, the barbecue sauce was good.

ONE NEW MOON LATER

"I guess being a full demon might be nice. But I like you just the way you are, Inuyasha."

TWO YEARS AFTER

Had Inuyasha known that he'd never see Kagome again, he might have behaved better.

Held her tighter.

Agreed with her more.

Told her...he didn't know what he'd tell her.

But had he known, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much to look at the empty well. Maybe he wouldn't visit it so often.

FIVE YEARS AFTER

"Her name is Moroha," Kagome told their friends with a watery voice. She was still in the birthing bed. Her hair was wild and some strands stuck to her face. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Yes, she is, he thought.

[emilyssky]

Chapter 8: Maybe

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self-harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, choking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"  

"What?"

"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."    

Minho's POV:

I run a hand through my sweaty hair, in attempt to fix it but it's pointless, I need a shower. I love this feeling though. The sweat running down your forehead, the air leaving your lungs, the sound of your heart beating filling your ears. Mornings like these are my favorite, especially now that most of the students are gone cause of the winter break and the studio is almost empty, and I have basically the whole place to myself. I have been coming to dance more and more in the past few weeks and I admit that it did start because of her but coming here again made me realize just how much I've missed it. So now it's something that I do for myself, watching her is a plus. I gulp down half of my water bottle and pull my phone out of my pocket. I have 2 missed calls from Chan. I know that he's been suspecting something for a few days now, he's not stupid but I've been avoiding him only because I know that he's gonna go all protective over his best friend and I don't really wanna deal with a talk like that right now. He is, however, one of the closest people to me and I can't really avoid him much longer. I send him a quick text, telling him that I'll come over and put my phone back in my pocket. I adjust the strap of my dance bag as I continue to walk until I hear the all-too-familiar song playing and freeze. She has 10 specific songs that she uses, so it's easy for me to know whenever she's here. I smile to myself and turn to the opposite hall without even thinking. I stop at the door and scoot a bit to the left so she won't see me. From where I'm standing I see her from the side, her hair is in a high ponytail with a few loose curls escaping and falling down her face and neck. She's dressed in a black sweater and black boodie shorts that hug her ass perfectly. I let my eyes travel from the curve of it down to her long, toned legs and can't help but lick my lips at the sight. She usually hides her body underneath layer and layer of clothes way too big for her, so this is a rare sight that I only get to see when I'm secretly watching her practice every Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday morning, maybe Friday night if I'm lucky. It's something I look forward to after my practice. I won't ever say it out loud though, I wouldn't ever admit how I can stand hours behind the thick glass, watching her body move to the music. Watching the way her long curly hair moves when she turns on her toes or how delicate her hand movements look even from far away. She reminds me of a bird when she dances. It's like her feet don't even touch the ground with hands as delicate and light as wings and her movements so perfectly blended together, that it's mesmerizing. She is fascinating to me in so many ways, until she opens her mouth. Fuck, she can make my eyes roll all the way to the back of my head. She's challenging me in a way that I never expected and how much I'm drawn to her is something I'm not ready to admit yet. Being a dick to her didn't work, she's not the type of girl that bites her tongue, but avoiding her didn't work either. Not to mention how fucking hard it was. Her presence alone is enough to light up a whole fucking room. She carries a certain light with her that annoys me to no end, mostly because she reminds me so much of my sister that sometimes I let my walls down without even realizing it. Both hold the same light in their eyes and that vibrating smile. She reminds me of myself as well. The side of me I lost. The passion in her eyes, the energy she carries, and the determination that she has. In her eyes, I see so many things. Things that I desperately wanna forget. Things I avoid facing and run away from. I see judgment in her eyes. They're like a mirror and all I can see is my shitty ass self. I don't stand there much longer. With everything that's happening between me and her, my head is all over the place. I don't know what I want or what I am doing even but I can't seem to stay away from her. But I have to, I know I have to. I don't want her to get involved with my mess.

I reach the frat in only 10 minutes and Felix is the one to open the door.

"Hey" He offers me a bright smile. That kid is such a joy to be around.

"Hey man," I pat his shoulder. "Is Chan here?"

His nods. "He's in his room."

"How's Hyujin?" I ask out of curiosity. Hyunjin and I have an interesting type of relationship, I guess you would say. He's one of the very, very few people that can bring me to my limits in an incredibly short amount of time and have a smile on his face while doing it, so torturing his annoying ass in many different ways has become a new form of entertainment for me.

His eyes widen slightly.

"Y/n left in a hurry yesterday because something happened with Hyunjin." I clarify.

"Oh," He relaxes. "He's trying." He drags out the words.

"A woman?" I smile sympathetically.

He sighs. "Yeah"

"It'll get better." I try to comfort him.

"I hope so."

I gave him one last sympathetic look and jogged up the stairs. I knocked on Chan's door twice before opening it, not waiting for him to answer.

"I have arrived," I announce.

"I have noticed." He chuckles back. He's sitting on his bed with his laptop on his legs.

I drop my bag beside the door and take a seat on the bed. "Are you working?"

"Just some touch-ups," He says and closes the laptop, putting it beside him. "Were you at the dance studio?"

"I worked with Changbin a bit, we finished Seungmin's part, and then I went to the dance studio," I explain, even though I know why he's asking.

He nods several times and takes a deep breath through his nose, kinda like he's preparing himself for what he's about to say. "Um listen-"

"I know what you're about to say." I stop him. "And there's no reason for us to talk about this." I try to avoid the conversation before he starts talking cause I know that he will not stop.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Minho, I'm not stupid nor blind."

"But you are wrong. It's not like that-" I begin to say but he's the one to cut me off now.

"Minho" He gives me a knowing look. "She's my best friend."

"I know." I sigh, giving up, and letting him talk.

"And you're one of my best friends as well." He adds.

"I know." I run a hand through my hair not knowing what to do with my hands.

"What I'm trying to say is that I know her and I know you."

I rest my head against the wall and focus my eyes on the wall in front of me. I really don't wanna be having this conversation. I haven't even figured shit out myself. But one thing I can never do is lie to Chan.

"Nothing has happened between us." I honestly say.

"I see the way you look at her and I see the ways you guys talk and tease each other." He lifts a brow. "I haven't seen you like that with any other girl, and I've known you for what? Almost three years now?" He laughs and I can feel a small amount of weight leaving my shoulders knowing that he's not ready to cut my dick off.

I fight a smile and shake my head. "No honestly, nothing's up. She's just fun to tease."

He leans closer and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Listen you've been through a lot of shit and there are times when she's around that I can see a genuine smile on your lips, even when you're trying to hide it. You're dancing and you're not locked up in your room. I'm happy to see you like this, making progress. She has that effect on people, you know. She's such a bright person." His smile falls slightly. "But Y/n has also been through a lot. She has had ups and downs with her mental health ever since I met her but the past year she's been struggling, especially after her last relationship."

The sudden anger that spreads through my body even at the mention of her ex shocks me a bit, remembering all the things she admitted to me that Chan doesn't know about. That time at the party when I caught them fighting in the kitchen, I acted out of instinct. When I saw her against the counter with her eyes full of hidden fear I didn't even think about it, all I knew is that I had to take her away from him. It's something that I have done more times than I can count for my mother and my sister. My anger at the beginning was towards her cause she was one of the millions of women that chose to stay silent but the growing protectiveness I feel toward her now is a feeling I can't quite figure out. The night she opened up to me about him, I stayed up, debating whether or not I would go and beat the shit out of him until he physically couldn't walk. I think that was the night I realized how much power she has over me. She has changed since I met her a year ago. I don't know what about her is different but something is. I can tell cause I've memorized every single thing about her and searched for her around campus. That night hunted me. I remember everything I felt, the heaviness in my chest and the absolute numbness that had taken over my emotions. She came out of nowhere, and I remember thinking that her voice was so annoying that I just wanted her to leave. I wanted to be alone. But she stayed and would not stop talking. Her eyes; big, bright, and full of light. A shade of green, I've never seen. Her eyes that night stared at mine and I felt annoyed, judged, and fascinated at the same time. The more I looked at her the more mesmerized I became by her. Her resemblance to my sister was amazing, in every way. The way she spoke and moved was so unique yet familiar. Simply drawing. If I'm being honest, I had made my decisions and owned my mistakes. I was at peace knowing it was finally time to give up. But just like that, she stood there, like a mirror in front of me. A reminder. A clear reflection of what I had become and all the things I could be. She spoke with so much passion about life that I got jealous. Never in my life have I met anyone like her. After she left I stayed there, in the same spot for at least an hour, her words being the only thing on my mind. I realized that; that was kind of like my second chance, a reality check. She came to offer me a second chance in life. And as much as I hated her being there at the time, as much as her words were cutting through me like a fucking knife, I needed it. I picked myself up. Piece after piece and even though life's still shit, her words were a constant motivation to keep moving, and at the end of the day; I'm still here. Alive. Well, kinda.

"My point is," he continues."Whatever you do, be careful." He kept his face natural, with his usual half smile but I could hear the hidden warning in his tone. I nod my head not knowing how to reply. I don't wanna say anything. I don't wanna talk about her.

"Alright, I'll go take a shower and then you can jump in afterward, cause no offense but you stink mate." He makes a face.

"Shut up. " I roll my eyes.

He grabs some clothes. "You could join me if you want, to save water and all." He smirks.

I grab the nearest pillow and throw it at him, which he easily avoids and disappears into the bathroom laughing.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Y/n's POV:

I was practicing in the studio when Felix called me.

"He could come and stay with us for a few days." I offer, not really knowing what to say or do to help.

"I don't think it will make any difference," Felix says. "I think he just wants to be alone right now."

"I can understand that" I mutter. Jackson was my first real relationship and that heartbreaking feeling that weighed on my chest months even after our break is one that I don't wish upon anyone. Even though I know that what we had was not love, I still loved him.

"It's just hard seeing him like that." he sighs.

"I know." My heart tightens at how sad Felix sounds. He cares deeply about people, especially when it comes to his friends. He, Chan, and Hyunjin are like brothers so seeing Hyunjin in pain must be hard for him. "I can come over later, maybe we can watch a movie or something. It will help him get his mind off of her." I offer.

"Yeah sure, that sounds nice."

"I'll be there around 8."

"Okay"

"Bye Felix."

I've been practicing all morning and my feet are honestly killing me. After I came home I took a shower, trying to relax my sore muscles and I've been laying in my bed ever since. I've been switching between Netflix and my book for the past few hours until I finally decided to get ready. Today is one of those days that I would want nothing more than to bury myself under my sheets and not talk or see anyone and it sucks. I take a breath, leaving the comfort of my bed to start getting dressed. I don't do much, I throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, deciding to bury myself under the thick clothing. I don't bother with makeup or my hair besides running my fingers through them a bit and I'm out of the door. I wrap my arms around my body and fasten my walk to the frat house. I somehow thought that I'd d be fine with just my hoodie, completely forgetting the fact that it's almost Christmas and it's freezing. At least the frat is only about 15 minutes away from our apartment. I reach the door and press the doorbell. Once, twice and as I'm about to press it for the third time, the cold air pushing me to my limits, the door opens and I freeze as I come face to face with his big, brown eyes. 

Close. He's standing so close.

"Fuck," I curse, placing my hand over my heart. "You scared me."

He opens the door a bit more, leaning into the doorway. "Lovely to see you too, angel."

My heart flatters at the sight of his smile but I push the thought away and my way through the door. "Stop calling me that."  I take my shoes off.

"Why? Do you like it that much?" His smile grows along with my annoyance. I'm annoyed cause in fact I think I kind of do. Or mostly I like what it does to me, the way it makes me feel. Then again maybe I like the fact that he cares enough to have a specific nickname for me. Not that I would know if he uses it with other women as well..

"What are you even doing here?" I walk to the stairs, searching for any sight of my friends.

"I happen to have friends who live here." He follows me.

"Funny." I reach the top of the stairs and turn to him. Why is he even following me? Where's everyone? I look around the first floor.

"I am." He chuckles, standing right in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his black hoodie are lifted up to his elbow. He has such nice hands, I think to myself.

"You are a lot of things." I mumble under my breath, peeling my eyes away from his body. Heat starts rising inside me. He's standing too close to me, with a stupid grin on his face, and none else around us. My walls are shaking, starting to slowly tear down in moments like this, where I could have a playful, simple conversation with him without burning anger building inside of me at the audacity of his cruel words. But I don't let myself relax too much, it's a matter of time before he snaps back on me.

"Oh, you have no idea." He breathes out, lowering his voice and head. He takes a few steps closer to me. What is he doing? My mind starts spinning, and all the possible things I can say or do run through my head but instead, I take a step to the left, pulling away for him.

"You smell." I say quickly and turn around and down the hall, not giving him a chance to say anything back.

.

.

.

.

"Hey," I wrap my hands around him, bringing him into a tight hug. His hair is still a bit dump for his shower and the scent of his caramel body wash immediately hits my nose. "how are you doing?"

"Fine." He mumbles in the crook of my neck. "I just want everyone to stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

"We're just worried about you Hyunjin." Felix says, laying on his stomach on Hyunjin's bed. Huynjin releases me and throws himself beside Felix.

"All of you guys have been through a breakup. I guess it's my time." His eyes are still a bit bloodshot, probably from last night. Felix told me that he wouldn't stop crying. When I broke up with Jackson both Felix and Hyunjin were over at my apartment every single day, trying to make me feel better, in every way they could. There were times when I wouldn't even get out of bed so they would stay in bed with me and we would watch stupid reality shows and old Disney movies. They were there for me so now that Hyunjin's going through the same thing I wanna be there for him as much as I can as well.

"You know what?" I place my hands on my hips. "I think you did enough mopping over her cheating ass. It's time to get your mind off her." I try to brighten the mood.

Both Felix and Hyunjin give me questioning looks. "What do you mean?" Hyunjin's eyebrows frown. His face is so puffy from crying that he looks incredibly cute.

"Get up." I pull him by the hand off the bed. "Let's go downstairs, make some drinks and snacks, and watch a fun movie." I open the door, dragging Hyunjin with me. Felix follows, giggling.

I release him as soon as we enter the kitchen, his shoulders fall and he takes a seat on a stool. I pull my phone out of my pocket, I'm gonna need some help.

"You're literally in my house, why are you calling me?" Chan picks up immediately.

"Come downstairs, now." I say and hang up.

"Y/n, I don't know If I'm-"

"No," I lift my finger. "4 days after I broke up with Jackson you showed up at my door. Remember what I did?"

"You tried to slam the door in my face." He wipes his nose with his sleeve.

"But you didn't leave me alone." I circle the counter to stand in front of him. "You sat with me in my bed as I cried my heart out and you didn't say a word." I push a piece of his blonde hair that's falling in his eyes back. His eyes begin to fill with tears and his full lips turn into a thin line. I know that face. "Please don't cry." I wrap my arms around him, panicking.

"It's not my fault, why did you have to get all emotional and shit..." He mumbles in my chest.

Felix lets out a laugh from his leaning position across the counter. "You guys are so dramatic." He shakes his head. "I'll get started on the drinks and leave you two emotionally damaged people to bond over making snacks."

"What's going on?" Chan walks into the kitchen with Minho following right behind. 

"We're bonding." Hyunjin says, not lifting his head from my chest.

I giggle giving him one last squeeze before releasing him. "Okay enough with the crying, let's make some brownies." I clap my hands together.

"What are we doing exactly?" Minho asks, confusion written all over his face.

"We're making drinks and snacks, and then we're watching a movie to cheer Hyunjin up."  Felix walks over to them. "Wanna help with the drinks?" He asks Chan.

"Yeah, sure." He immediately accepts, knowing he's not really good at cooking.

"You can go too, I'm sure you wouldn't wanna spend time making brownies with me." Hyunjin gets off the stool and glares at Minho on his way to the fridge. I look between them dumbfounded. Have I missed something?

Minho takes a few steps further into the kitchen, slowly approaching the end of the counter, with his hands crossed. "Stop being dramatic." He rolls his eyes.

"You told me that I'm the most annoying person you've ever met." Hyunjin narrows his eyes.

My jaw falls open. "Minho!" I gasp.

He takes a breath. "I was joking obviously. You're clearly not THE most annoying person, have you met Changbin?" I wanna laugh at his terrible attempt to fix what he said to Hyunjin but I bite my lip to hold it and pull out a bowl to start mixing the ingredients.

"Whatever, you can stay, only cause I'm a nice person unlike you." A small smile dances on Hyunjin's lips. " I'll go look for a pan." He turns to me.

"Okay, I'll start mixing the wet ingredients." I nod, getting the sugar and a cup to measure everything in.

He nods back and walks to the small pantry that they have beside the kitchen. He stops behind Minho. "I know you like me, you can stop this enemies-to-lovers thing." He says close to his ear and Minho flinches.

I let out a laugh, that quickly disappears the minute I realize that we're alone in the kitchen. The pantry where Hyunjin went to look for a pan is just across the hall, but knowing Hyunjin it will take him more than 5 minutes to actually locate the pans. I focus my eyes on the bowl in front of me as I pour the butter over the sugar and begin mixing them, while Minho stands silently at the opposite side of the counter. I know for a fact that he will not even try to start a conversation or do anything to make this uncomfortable silence go away so I force myself to stay focused on my task and ignore him. The butter begins to blend smoothly with the sugar, which is a sign to put the eggs in. From the corner of my eye, I see him move. I straighten my back, not wanting to appear as intimidating as I am by his presence. He stops to my right, close enough for me to smell Chan's body wash; so he must have taken a shower here. I wait for him to say something, anything but he stays silent, simply observing. The side of my face feels like it's on fire from his intense staring and I being to grow uncomfortable.

"Um, can you bring the eggs?" I clear my throat but neither his body nor his eyes move. I shift my balance from one foot to another, my hand moving faster as I feel my anxiety peeking. I sigh, realizing that he's not going to help me at all so I stop mixing and turn to the fridge but before I have the time to take a single step, he moves past me, his shoulder brushing mine. I focus my eyes back on the bowl as he moves silently to the fridge and back. His movements remind me of a cat's. Soundless, precise, and confident, executed with a look of boredom all over their face.

"How many do we need?" For some reason the way he said 'we' made a smile almost appear on my lips.

"Um," I think about how many pieces will be enough for all of us to eat. " about 3."  I say and reach for an egg.

"Let me." He takes it from my hand, in a surprisingly gentle way, almost as gentle as his tone. He seems to be in a good mood, a good mood for him at least and I begin to wonder why. He cracks 2 of the eggs inside the bowl and I mix them with the rest of the ingredients.

"Do you bake a lot?" He suddenly asks. My hand slows down for a second, caught by surprise by his sudden question. I don't think that he's ever asked me a simple question like this.

"Um, yeah." I hesitantly answer.

"Hm," He nods, breaking the third egg. "It looks like you know what you're doing."

I shrug pouring the flour into the mixture. "I bake a lot when I'm stressed."

"Which is often I'm guessing." He smirks.

I try not to smile at his comment but my face warms up either way. His energy is oddly positive. He shifts his weight, leaning towards me and observing my moves. The way that my body is drawn to his is ridiculous and the thoughts that go through my head make everything worst. Silence takes over us once again and my eyes flicked to the door every 10 seconds, silently hoping for Hyunjin to finally come.

I hear him chuckle under his breath.

"What?" I turn to him.

He leans into the counter with both of his hands and shakes his half-wet hair out of his eyes. I swallow; fuck he's attractive.

He half-smiles, in such a boyish way. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

I look back down. "No." I lie

He leans back close to me, placing his hand next to my hip to my left trapping me like he did yesterday. I hold my breath as he looks over my shoulder, his chin almost touching it.

"I love making you nervous." His breath tickles my neck and chills spread down my spine and arms. He dips his finger into the mixture and brings it to his lips. My eyes follow the way his finger disappears into his mouth, his full lips sucking on it in a way that makes my legs grow closer.

His eyes lighten up. "Shit, this is good." He dips his finger again.

I let out a breath, relieved to see his attention turn to the brownies. "Really?"

"Yeah, try some." He takes some more on his finger and brings it to my lips.

I freeze. "No thanks." I awkwardly smile.

He frowns. "You made it, you have to try. " He pushes his finger closer to my lips.

"Minho, said no." I say a little louder, grabbing his wrist. I feel him stiffen, his eyes fall to my grip and then back to my eyes. My stomach drops. I dip the finger of my other hand into the mixture and drag it across his cheek, distracting him. His eyes widen, clearly not expecting that and I can't help but I laugh at his face.

"You're dead." His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek with a straight face.

He takes some more of the mixture and I turn around about to run but his hand sneaks around my waist pulling me back. My back hits his chest and I feel his finger spreading the brownie dough all over my cheek.

I bring my hands up to cover my face but he fights me with his free hand. "Minho, stop! " I try to sound annoyed but I giggle instead.

"You started it. " He laughs back and I swear it is one of the most lovely sounds I've ever heard. Even if I can't see him from my position, I can picture the smile on his face.

I kinda wish I could freeze this moment as well.

"Can you guys stop playing with my breakup brownies? " Hyunjin groans, finally entering the kitchen with 3 different pans in his hands. We both freeze but Minho's the one that moves away first. Almost too fast and sharper than I would like as if he hadn't realized what was happening until it was interrupted. His face drops any emotions that previously held and he goes to grab the pans from Hyunjin.

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"Hyunjin let's just start the movie. The brownies will be ready in a few minutes." Felix groans but Hyunjin shakes his head. Everyone has taken a seat on the large couch in the living room. Felix and Chan made Margaritas for all of us and after a lot of fighting, we decided to watch 'The Conjuring'. We were just about to start the movie but Hyujin refuses to watch anything until his brownies are ready.

"I said no." He stands his ground.

I give Felix a sympathetic look, knowing that Hyunjin is slowly bringing him to his limit, and get up. "Fine, I'll go check on the brownies." I walk back into the kitchen and kneel in front of the oven, checking if the brownies are ready. They could use a little more baking but I pull them out anyway.

"Hello, love" Kai, one of the other boys that live here enters the kitchen. There are 5 guys in total in the Frat, Hyunjin, Chan, Felix, Kai, and Jace. Kai is the one I like the most after the boys cause Jace can be a bit of an ass.

"Hi, Kai." I smile at him.

"What's going on? Are you guys having a movie night?" It's not often that either of them is home but whenever they are, they always stay locked up in their rooms. Kai sometimes comes downstairs to say hi to me or Emma and maybe hang out a bit with us so I'm definitely closer to him. He's quite tall, with messy blonde hair and the most perfect dimples I have ever seen.

"Yep." I begin to cut the brownies into squares.

"Fuck, they look delicious." He leans over the pan. "Can I have some?"

"Y/n." Both of our heads snap to the doorway where Minho is standing. His gaze moves between Kai and me. He must have a fucking radar or something. "Do you need any help?"

"Um-"

"Hey, man." Kai greeds Minho as he approaches the counter.

"How you've been Kai?" He pats Kai's back with a nod and walks past him to stand right beside me. Oh, so they know each other.

"Busy." he lets out a breathy laugh. "I'm happy that the semester's over."

Minho gives him an understanding nod and then copies Kai's previous position, leaning over my shoulder, and looking at the brownies. "They look good." He drags out in a low voice. I realize what he's doing and I have to stop the smile that threatens to form on my lips. He only seems to care about me whenever another person's involved. It does bother me but at the same time, I can't really stop myself from craving his attention in any way that I get it. I know it sounds weird but I want him to look at me, I want his eyes to search the room for me and I want him to be disappointed when I'm not there.

I take a breath and put a soft smile on my lips. I cut a small piece of brownie and move away from Minho's grip. "Here," I turn to Kai. "Try some."

He opens his mouth, taking the brownie from between my fingers with his lips. My back is completely turned to Minho, but I see Kai's eyes flicker behind me for a second.

"Oh, my god." He groans with his mouth full.

"How is it?" I place all the pieces on a large plate.

"It's incredible." He nods his head, with his eyes closed.

"What about me?" Minho puts his elbows on the counter, bringing his face right in front of mine. "I wanna try too." 

"You have hands." I take the plate in my hands and turn around, avoiding to look his way, while Kai's trying to hold his laughter but he's failing. "I'll see you around Kai." I exit the kitchen.

"Fucking finally," Hyunjin yells as I put the plate in the middle of the coffee table and I fall back to my seat beside Chan.

"I know that he's heartbroken and all but I swear I'm gonna murder him." Felix leans behind Chan's back and whispers to me. I cover my mouth with my hand trying to hold my laughter, Hyunjin can be too much when he's not in a good mood but if Felix has reached his limits the situation's bad. My laugh is cut short when I feel someone sitting beside me.

"You're not seating here." I lean a bit closer to whisper to him while keeping my eyes forward and the small smile on my lips that tries to hide the panic of Minho staying beside me for almost 2 hours. "I wanna watch the movie."

"None's stopping you, angel." Minho lifts both of his eyebrows at me before taking a brownie from the plate and popping it into his mouth.

"Okay, now we can begin the movie." Hyunjin takes 4 brownies and leans back, happily.

Felix shakes his head and presses play. I sigh and grab the blanket from the back of the couch, unfolding it.

"Are you cold?" Minho asks, without looking at me.

"She can't watch a movie without a blanket or something to cover her. " Chan explains. "She's weird like that."

"Shut up." I bring the blanket up to my shoulders. "Pass me my margarita."

I hold my hand out but he shakes his head. "Nope. No alcohol for you."

"What? Why?" I frown.

He shoots me a glare. "I think you know why."

I drop my hand, understanding. He takes a brownie from the plate and holds it out to me but I shake my head, as always.

"Then no alcohol." he shrugs.

"Guys, shut up ." Hyunjin turns up the volume. "The movie's starting."

I sigh once again and bury myself under the blanket, forcing my eyes on the tv. This is gonna be a long movie.

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Minho's hand has been resting on the back of the couch for 25 minutes straight, and the right side of his body is so close to me, that his thigh is brushing mine every now and then, so it's hard to focus on anything else. He, on the other hand, is perfectly still, completely invested in the movie. I can't help but let my eyes flicker to him every few minutes and the more I do the more I realize that he has the most perfect side profile. Everything from his now completely dry hair to his long black eyelashes that stand tall over his huge eyes to his perfectly straight nose to the curve of his full lips. His face holds no expression. He occasionally lets his lips turn into a small smile when a funny scene comes up or his eyebrows frown when something intrigues him. He doesn't smile that often, he doesn't show much emotion in general and I wonder if it's because we're not that close yet for him to open up or if that's the way he is as a person. From what Chan has told me, Minho is really closed off and it takes time for him to open up to someone. The memories of our talks make their way through my mind yet again, almost causing me to smile. I loved the way he talked; as if I wasn't even there, as if he was talking to himself, letting out all of his thoughts. I loved those moments. It was the first time that I felt understood, in a way. I've been hiding a lot of things, too ashamed to admit the real story of my childhood, the toxic and abusive relationship I stayed in for almost a year, or the sides of myself that even I am disgusted by. The mess that I grew up to be, even though I swore to myself that I would be different. I'm so grateful that I found Chan. It was a time when I really needed someone to be there for me, and he didn't hesitate a second. He was there every time. Through me screaming and yelling, crying, falling classes, not leaving my room or eating anything for days. He had the patience that none had with me growing up. He stayed by my side, waiting, allowing me to take my time but never leaving. I have opened up to him about a lot but still, even from him, I keep things. There are times when I feel like shit. I sit with all these people that are almost like family to me and present myself as someone I'm not, allowing only the side of myself that's not messed up, damaged, or fucked to be seen. So when Minho opened up to me about his childhood, I felt like I wasn't alone in a way. Maybe it was the alcohol but he didn't hide that side of him from me and that made me not wanna hide mine either.

I hadn't realized how long I'd been staring at him, drowning in my thoughts until his eyes turned to mine, and I almost choked. He looked back at the screen with a small smile and moved a bit closer to me. Thank fucking god that the lights are almost off cause I'm pretty sure I look like a tomato. I feel the hand that he has resting behind me, inching closer until his fingers brush my shoulder. A wave of chills runs through my whole body, but I try not to show any emotion on my face. He laughs under his breath and removes his hand from behind me, but just as I'm about to finally let out a breath of relief, I feel his hand moving to my thigh under the blanket and when his hand grips my thigh, I clear my throat.

What is he doing?

"What?" Chan turns to me.

"Nothing." I quickly brushed him off. "Can you pass me some water?" He grabs a bottle of water from the table and gives it to me.

"Thanks" I bring it to my mouth. I can feel Minho's eyes on me, as I'm gulping down the water. I finish almost the whole bottle and give it back to Chan. His fingers start moving upwards and he leans back. His touch is so foreign yet so relieving in a way. Like I've been starving for ages and he just offered me food. He has never touched me in such a way and my skin starts to feel hot under his hand.

"Thirsty?" He whispers in my ear.

Jesus.

I fight a smile by pushing my lips together, but when his fingers inch closer to my core, I shallow so hard that it's almost audible. My legs move closer together, almost closing his hand between them but he moves it closer and closer to where I suddenly need him to. I bite my lip finally squeezing my thighs together, trying to bring his fingers even closer. He lets out a bearly audible laugh and tightens his grip. I let out a breath in frustration, suddenly grateful for how loud the movie is.

"Patience angel." I don't look at him but I bet his lips are in a smug ass grin.

God, I haven't been touched in that way for so long that I've forgotten how it feels, the burning in my lower belly or the aching between my legs.

"I told you not to call me that." The nickname sparks something inside me I place my hand on his thigh as well, turning to look at him. His smile slowly drops and my hand moves higher. Now it's my time to smile. Deep breaths are coming in and out of his nose. His hand rests on my thigh, not moving.

"Stop." He growls under his breath.

"No, you stop." I whisper to his ear, cupping his crotch. "I'm not a doll you can play with whenever you like." He draws his tongue over his bottom lip and then takes it between his teeth.

I wanna do that.

I tighten my hand around his dick, feeling him twitch in my palm. He turns to look at me, his eyes shifting under the dime lights, it's like they sparked, and with each second passing, they challenged me more and more. His gaze dropped to my lips and my heart started pouting in my chest, as he leaned forward. I immediately pulled my hand away and turned to my previous position, facing the tv.

"That's what I thought." He smirked and returned to his previous position as well, with his hand behind my head.

I stayed quiet for the rest of the movie, too stunned about what happened. Every time I'm near him, it's like my body has a mind of its own. He makes me act like a completely different person. I get overwhelmed and every time I need more and more. As the movie was playing, I slowly came to the realization of how much I am actually attracted to him. I haven't allowed myself to recognize my feelings for him, too caught up in everything that has been happening but it's easy for me to also realize how stupid it is of me to have any actual feelings for someone like him. Minho only likes to tease and annoy me, simply entertaining his own needs, so I force myself to stop thinking that it's anything more than that.

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"That was a fucking good movie." Felix stretches his hands. I blink several times, realizing that the movie has finished.

"Hyunjin fell asleep," Chan whispers with a grin across his face and everyone's head snaps to Hyunjin.

"Aww" I lift myself off of the couch and grab my phone to snap a picture of his sleeping face.

"I'll take him upstairs." Chan gets up and I begin to clean the coffee table.

"I'll help," Felix says. We gather everything and take the plates and glasses back to the kitchen.

"Are you staying here?" Felix asks while loading the dishwasher.

I shake my head "I think I'll head home in a few."

"I'll drive you." Minho walks into the kitchen, engaging in our conversation out of nowhere. This dude is everywhere, I swear.

"I can walk thanks." I offer him a tight smile.

"Y/n." Felix says in a scolding tone. "It's past midnight. It's better if Minho drives you."

"I'll be fine." I stand my ground.

Minho makes eye contact with me from the other side of the island. "I'm driving you home." He states and leaves the kitchen.

Felix takes a look over his shoulder to make sure he's gone and then gives me a knowing smile.

"No, stop." I defend immediately.

He lifts his hands. "I didn't say anything."

"Shut up, I know what you're thinking." I narrow my eyes.

"You're going to fuck at some point." He shrugs. "Bet."

"Felix! " I squeal, looking around to see if anyone has heard him.

"Just sayin'."

"I'm going home, bye." I raise my voice on purpose and he laughs. I make my way back to the living room to put my shoes on.

"You wanna go now?" Minho asks from the couch.

"I said I'll walk."

"Stop being so fucking stubborn," He grabs his phone from the coffee table and walks to me. "It's late and I have a car."

"Who says that I wanna be in a car with you?"

He lifts his eyebrows, almost like he's challenging me. "You got into Jeongin's car."

There we go.

"Jeongin's fun to be around." I shoot and his face breaks into a grin.

He says bye to Chan and walks up to me until only I'm able to hear him. "I can be plenty of fun." His voice drops. "Grab your stuff, I'll be waiting outside." He puts his shoes on in a swift motion and walks out the door.

I smile to myself, 'cause despite what I said, I really wanna be in a car with him. I walk back to the couch. "Bye Chan." I wrap my arms around his shoulders from the back.

"Bye, princess." He kisses my arm.

When I step out of the house the cold air hits me immediately, forcing me to lift my hands and wrap them around my upper body for support. Minho's leaning against his car, a cigarette between his lips. I've never really found smoking attractive but there's something about the way he does it, that it does seem, kinda attractive, I guess.

"So Jeongin's fun huh?" He blows out some smoke.

"He is actually." I keep my face straight and when I reach him I take his cigarette and bring it to my lips, but before I have a chance to take a hit he snaps it back.

"Not a chance."

"Why not?" I pout.

"Dancers don't smoke."

"That's bullshit." I scoff. "Besides, you're a dancer."

His eyes light up. "Fine. If you want it, come and get it." He takes a long drag and leans forward, holding the smoke in his mouth. His action is unexpected, sparking excitement inside me. 

"No thank you." I bring my lips to a tight line, understanding what he meant. He laughs and blows out the smoke. "Can we go? I'm cold." I shiver, causing his eyes to trail down my body, probably noticing that I don't have a jacket on and I shift under his gaze feeling uncomfortable. I hate it when people look that intensely at my body.

"Sure." He throws the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it. He unlocks the car and I let out a sigh of relief, once I'm inside.

He starts the car.

"Seatbelt," He says, exactly like he did the last time I was in his car. I reach for the seatbelt and put it on. 

The corner of his mouth lifts. "Good girl." 

My body tenses up. "Stop with the pet names." I manage to say.

He smirks." You love them."

"I don't"

"I can see the way your body reacts every time I call you something, you know." His eyes flicker to me.

"I hate you." I shake my head, not having anything to say back. I don't really know how to speak to him when he's like this. I don't know how we went from fighting to flirting, but I can't help this weird feeling that I shouldn't let myself enjoy it too much. This is dangerous territory. The thin line between playful fighting and flirting, and I'm not really sure if I should cross it or not.

He rests his head back. "Sure you do."

The dime light from the street lights falls on him perfectly. One hand gripping the wheel and the other resting on the closed window. Even the way he's driving is attractive and I let myself study him a bit more. I try to focus on the small details I notice about him, like the way his hands handle the wheel or the way his eyes move around the streets, alarmed yet relaxed in a way. I notice that as he focuses on the road, his lips pout slightly and his eyebrows frown.

"You're staring again." He says with a completely straight face and my eyes snap back to the road.

 "So, how do you know Kai?

His question takes me by surprise. "Um, I've seen him around the frat." He simply nods. "Checking out the competition?" I tease.

His teeth make an appearance. "There's no competition angel."

"You're so full of yourself." I scoff

He shrugs with a smile. "I'm just confident. I grew up having to fight for everything I've ever wanted. That made me rely on myself and myself only and soon I realized that if I try hard enough I can get anything I want."

This conversation took a huge turn and I find myself staring again, remembering everything he told me that night. "I'm the exact opposite." I turn to the road. "I'm one of those people who no matter how hard they try will always fail and I've reached a point where I've failed so many times that it makes me believe that maybe, I'm just not enough."

He keeps his eyes on the road. "You're more than enough. All of us are. There are always gonna be people that are going to make you feel like that, parents, friends, lovers, even yourself. But in the end, there's no such thing as being enough for anything. You're simply you. And that's more than enough."

I stare at his side profile as I let his words sink in and my heart warms. "How do you do that?" I honestly ask.

"How do I do what?" He glances at me only for a second.

"You're so confusing. How can you act like a complete dick one second and the next talk to me like that?"

At that, he laughs. "That's how I'll get you to be obsessed with me."

It's kinda working.

"No. That's how you'll get me to murder you."

He laughs again. He looks so different when he laughs. There's something addictive to the sight and for some reason, I wanna make him laugh again.

"I have a question. " I say.

His face twitches with interest. "If you ask one, I'll ask on."

"Deal." I fight a smile and clear my throat. I don't know when I'll ever get a chance like this again, so I think deeply. "Why did you quit dancing and turned to music?" There are so many things I wanna ask him. Like what he thinks about me, if he's ever been in love or his dreams about the future. I wanna get to know everything about him but I don't wanna push him. It seems like he's thinking about it cause he's biting the inside of his cheek, something I've seen him do before.

"I just couldn't." He finally said after 23 seconds of silence, which I counted out of anxiety that maybe I pushed him too far with my question. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself. "I was in a shitty place and I was a fucked up mess. I couldn't dance anymore cause I had nothing to express. Growing up I found myself going to the dance studio as an escape. All the anger and fear and absolute sadness I would hold inside, I would release through dancing. But at some point in my life, it became too much and I grew completely...numb, in a way. I couldn't dance anymore cause I wasn't able to feel anything. I was bearly alive."

I watch him carefully, the urge to simply touch him out of sympathy growing by the second. I wonder how much pain he holds inside. I'm dying to get to know him.

"Jisung was the one that introduced me to music." He continues. " He came into my life when I thought that I was done. If I didn't have him I probably wouldn't be alive right now. He was studying in Rome, forced by his parents into a career that he didn't want. He was suffering from depression and anxiety and couldn't do it anymore, so he left and came here."

I would have never imagined that such a bright person would have such a hard backstory, but then again the kindest people are the ones that have suffered the most. "How did you guys meet?"

He smiles just a little. "At a party, a frat party actually. It was my first year in college, as a dance major along with my sister. I was drunk, and got in a fight with some dude after I tried to fuck his girl."

I scranch my nose in diguast. "You're an ass."

"I didn't know." He rolls his eyes. "Plus she was the one that was rubbing her ass on my dick the whole night."

His vulgar words disturb me. "Continue." I clear my throat.

"Anyway, I passed out on the bathroom floor, completely wasted, and somehow the next day I woke up on a couch at an apartment I didn't know. Jisung took me to his and Seungmin's place. I will not go into detail but after that, he somehow became my best friend."

"Wait, they were living together?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah, they were friends for years and when Jisung dropped out Seungmin offered him to come and live with him."

I feel like I'm missing something. "How old are you?" I turn to him.

He looks at me with a smirk. "I'm 25."

What?

My eyes widen. "How the fuck are you 25?"

He laughs at my shocked expression. "I told you, I was a dance major for 2 years until I switched. Jisung started studying music and it pulled me in immediately. Then in my second year, Chan started collecting us like Pokemon and now here we are."

I shake my head. "Wow." There's so much I still don't know about these boys. Each and every one of them has his own story yet somehow Chan managed to bring 5 different people together through music.

"My turn." He says.

"Your turn has to wait." I smile as he reaches my apartment complex. He stops the car and I remove my seatbelt. I try to open the door but it's locked.

"Unlock the car." I turn to meet his gaze. He's leaning against his car door, keeping one hand on the wheel.

"I'll ask my question first." His voice echoes through the car.

I bit my lip, fully understanding the situation that I'm in right now. Trapped in his car, with his eyes and full attention on me. "Fine, ask away."

He focuses on my face, searching and studying. "Are you still in love with him?"

I stiffen, knowing exactly who he's talking about. Even though he's the only one who knows about me and Jackson, the times that we've actually talked about it are few. In any other case, I would have avoided any question about him but it's something this specific question that made me straighten my back. "No," I say with full honesty. "And I don't think I was ever truly in love with him if I'm being honest."

"You weren't," He says, his voice strong and stable. "What you had, what he gave you, wasn't love." He spits the last words as if it's a joke.

"Maybe it's the love I deserved." My voice drops lower, almost to a whisper.

His head snapped in my direction and I immediately lower my head, suddenly not brave enough to look him in the eye.

"Look at me." He demands.

I shake my head. I can't, I feel too exposed right now. More than I've ever had in front of anyone other than Jackson or Chan.

His hand finds my jaw and grips it tightly, turning my head to him. His eyes are burning but the muscles on his face are relaxed. He leans closer, and my heart starts beating faster.

"I really hope I could prove you wrong." His thumb brushes my cheek.

Freeze, freeze, freeze. I wish I could freeze this moment. Make it last.

I hold my breath. " Why can't you?"

His eyes shift as he tilts his head to the side. His hand moves to the side of my face, brushing some of the stray hairs away, pushing them behind my ear. I feel myself leaning into his touch.

"Cause you deserve better than I can offer you."

The words feel heavy, in my heart, in my chest, and in my stomach so I drop my eyes, nodding several times. Somehow I knew that that was gonna be the case. From the moment I first saw him, I somehow knew that he carried a lot with him and as much as my feelings are pushing me towards him, I'm not in a place where I can get involved with someone that can't offer me all of him.

"I get it." I pull away from his touch.

"Y/n.." He sighs.

I grab my bag and open the door. He tries to grab my wrist. "No," I shake my head. "Stop confusing me." I sharply say. "I won't do this back and forth again. You either want something or you don't. So since you don't, please leave me alone." I get out of his car, my legs move as fast as they can up the stairs to my apartment and the moment I slam the door shut, the tears make their way down my cheeks silently.

[no1frogfan]

Untitled Makki/Seijoh4 drabble

Hanamaki x gn reader (x the rest of Seijoh4 a bit)

Word count: ~1.3k

Tags & warnings: SMUT-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Hair fetish, cum in hair, PUBES we love ‘em and Makki definitely does, implied breath play, mentions of penetration & throat fucking, dubcon (no dubcon sex but reader is unknowingly participating in Makki’s fetish), reader has silky hair that’s long enough to braid, no hair color mentioned

Note: How do these keep getting longer and longer? They’re not really drabbles anymore, but I couldn’t stop writing because pervy Makki is so fun. This is actually depraved lmao

Iwa | Mattsun

You flop down cross-legged onto the rug in front of Makki. He scoots forward, draping his legs over your shoulders and pulling you back against the side of the bed. Steam is still rising off your head as he carefully teases out any tangles.

When it’s combed through to his satisfaction, he spreads deep conditioner across his hands and gently reaches forward to massage it into your scalp. The cinnamon and peppermint prickle pleasantly across your skin.

He dollops more conditioner on your hair, and, god it looks so much like… He doesn't know how many times he’s imagined it, wrapping your silky locks around his hand to press your nose against his abdomen. He could even thread both hands through your hair to hold you down while he bucks into you, savor the feeling of you gagging around him and, at the last second, pull you off him to paint hot streaks across your face and hair. He’s sure you’d make him cum so much, thick gobs of it covering your head and sticking to the strands.

Makki tears his eyes away and takes a long, calming breath.

Then another.

He shakes his head and returns to the task of caressing the conditioner into every strand.

You feel the tension leaving your neck and shoulders. Your eyes close, body relaxing under his ministrations.

When he walked in on you putting your hair up a week ago, he never realized an opportunity like this would literally land in his lap.

The wind had been relentless that day, loosening your bun and whipping the escaped tendrils across your face out on the boat. The spray of salt water and the grabby hands of the younger guests had done a number on it too. He saw you get progressively more irritated as the day went on, your tight bun devolving into a messy one, devolving further into an untidy ponytail, and finally barely managing to even be wrangled into that.

Then he’d stumbled in on you in the bathroom while you were trying to wrestle with it for the umpteenth time that morning, an angry scowl twisting your face.

Shakily (could you see his hands trembling?), he’d reached up to tease the knottiest tangles apart with his fingers and tie it up for you.

He’d pulled back reluctantly after he finished, and keeping his tone as casual as he could, offered to braid it for you that night. “I have two sisters,” he’d added hurriedly by way of explanation, trying to cut off any hesitation at the pass.

“You…don’t mind?”

Mind? He’d been itching to run his fingers through your hair for weeks, wondering if it really was as soft as it looked, wondering how you manage to keep it so lustrous and bouncy despite the harsh sea water and the harsher sun. Wondering how good it would smell if he buried his face in it.

“It’s no big. I used to do it all the time.”

As easy as that, he’d opened the door to this new nightly routine. And every night since then, it’s tested his discipline.

Like tonight. With careful fingers, he parts your hair down the middle and pulls the halves taut, relishing the feel of it gliding across his skin. You’re half asleep now, so far gone you don’t notice the quivering little gasp that escapes your mouth.

Uncertain he heard correctly, his eyes dart up to Oikawa, Iwa, and Mattsun in turn. All their eyes on trained on you too.

Maybe… He tugs your hair a second time.

Ah! There it is again—

A stutter and an almost inaudible moan.

Makki has to bite back a groan. Fuck. Do you like that? He looks down and almost bites through skin at the sight of the wet strands splayed across his bare thighs, so close to his twitching cock he could almost…maybe he could even grab a palmful and fuck his fist with it, until your hair is sticky with his cum. You’ve always been a deep sleeper. He could rub it in and you’d never be the wiser.

Or maybe you’d prefer to be on top and in control, to see the fucked out look on his face as you take every inch of him, milking him for all he’s worth. You’d loom over him, your locks a satin curtain around his face, hiding him away in a private paradise.

If he asked you to, would you grow it out longer? If you knew how much he liked it? If you knew it would let him easily wrap one long plait around your throat? If you knew it would let him grip it more easily when he fucks you from behind? His hand viselike as he drives into you, wrenching you back after each sloppy thrust. It’d be easier to pull you up, too. To curve your neck back for a better view as you take Mattsun or Iwaizumi, or hell, even Oikawa in your eager mouth.

You can’t see the wolfish expression on Makki’s face as he zeroes in on the way your chest rises and falls unevenly under him. But his friends can, and he can’t help but show off a little, his eyes glinting in challenge. Watch what I can do. And under the pretense of making sure he gets every strand, he runs his nails down your cheek, trails them across your neck, and with a murmured “sorry” ghosts them across your chest, there and gone.

You barely register his touch, but the evidence of it lingers in the budding of your nipples against the thin fabric of your sleep shirt.

If you opened your eyes now, you’d see him hunched over you, eyes closed in rapture. The spicy scent, the warmth radiating from you, it’s all too heady. He could lunge forward right now, pin you down against the floor and fuck you just like that. Would you want that? Want every inch of his body pressed against you, his face smothered against your neck, you invading all of his senses? Letting him drown in every strand every wisp while he thrusts into you, not too slow, not too fast, relishing the clench of your walls around him.

And he knows it’s in poor taste, but he truly can’t help but wonder: does the carpet match the drapes? He’s always trying to catch a glimpse, but he’s never been successful. Do you trim? Do you let it grow? Hopefully you don’t shave because fuck what he wouldn’t give to spread you open, bury his nose in your bush, smear his pre all over you and go to fucking town—

His eyes shoot open when someone clears their throat.

It’s impossible now to ignore how hard he is. It’s bordering on painful. You’ve dozed off a little, like you usually do, and Makki decides he’s dragged this on long enough. It takes no time at all to finish his plaiting. He leans back to admire tonight’s masterpiece — two neat French braids. Then, he covers his lap with the comforter before giving your hair one final tug.

You blink blearily, reaching up to run your fingers over his handiwork. “Thanks Makki,” you mumble, rubbing sleep from your eyes. You push off the floor, a little wobbly from the haze of sleep, and shuffle into bed.

“No prob,” he responds, voice a little strained.

Thus ends your nightly routine.

Makki, though, he usually stays up a little longer, fucking his fist in the shower while the luster of your hair still lingers on his fingertips.

[autumnteawithfriends]

Hairstyling

Pairings: MusicArtist aka Jumpin Johnny Jumble/Colora Contour(OC), Mentioned PsychoConductor aka Professor Rocket/Melody Maestra(OC)

I now bestow the Crashbox fandom with a fluffy OC x Canon oneshot fanfic

If you want to learn more about my Crashbox OCs Colora Contour and Melody Maestra, check out my art account @art-tea-chill

Now that I’ve gotten your attention, let the fanfic begin!

It was a relatively normal day off for Jumpin Johnny Jumble, especially so considering how chaotic Crashbox can be normally. While the crew doesn’t really have day offs, the situation at the factory made it an exception. Johnny didn’t really know the whole story, all he remembered from his conversation with Dora Smarmy was that most of the machines broke down during maintenance and thus the robots are still trying to figure on how to replace and/or fix some of them.

Johnny was in the kitchen making himself and Colora their morning drinks. He was making battery acid flavored coffee (he can’t exactly drink liquids normally) and made Colora her favorite, cold sweet tea. While both of them don’t require drinks, heck, Johnny doesn’t even have a mouth and Colora can’t move hers, hers is just painted on her wooden face. Both of them still find it nice to do.

While Johnny put Colora’s tea in the fridge for it to cool off, he spotted something on the table. Upon closer inspection, he figured out it was a magazine. A decently thick one at that. He assumed Colora bought it since he didn’t remember buying anything.

Johnny held the magazine in his wired hands, analyzing the cover. The magazine’s title was “Top 50 Hairstyles Throughout The Decade! FT: Models” Despite not being spelt out, Johnny assumed the magazine was referring to Women’s hairstyles. Considering there were pictures of three women on the left side of the cover. All three photos of the women were vertically aligned on the left of the front cover like a photo strip, only thing that was missing was the iconic black reel to go with it.

The woman in the top left photo was a young blond, she had an athletic high ponytail hairstyle and also had clumps of hair on the sides. The sides reminded him of Princess Peach’s hair and her photo was done at a 3/4ths angle with her facing the right.

The second woman was a brunette and looked older, but still pretty nonetheless. Her hair was more vintage-esque since it was fancy ringlets with a smoothed out top and bangs. Her photo was also at a 3/4ths angle, but she was facing the left instead of the right.

The final woman on the cover had black hair and her hairstyle made it look like she came straight out of the 50s. Her hair was short, not even covering half of her neck, yet it was bobbed up all fancifully. Unlike the other women, her photo angle was more akin to a headshot with as it was front view.

Johnny didn’t really know why Colora bought a hairstyling magazine of all things. It was maybe because he expected her to get something art-related, but to be fair, only doing art stuff all day during multiple day offs does sound maddening. In fact, Johnny thought Colora would probably look gorgeous in most of these hairstyles (not that she already is).

However, Johnny’s train of thought was interrupted when he heard a feminine yawn.

Colora had finally woken up and had walked into the kitchen. Instead of her usual fit, she was wearing a oversized grey t-shirt Johnny bought once and never wore and black baggy pants.

“Good morning sweetie…” Colora said drowsily.

“Mornin’ Babe” Johnny remarked flirtatiously, Colora sleepily giggled at it. “I put your tea in the fridge, I know how you like it cold.”

“Aww…Your so sweet…” Colora remarked before going to get the tea from the fridge, she was usually very drowsy after waking up. Tea helped get her energy back up.

Johnny skimmed through the magazine, all the pages were showing a random hairstyle from a specific decade and a guide on what you need to do to achieve it. Admittedly, it was surprisingly boring considering the content.

“Baby, I’ve gotta question to ask…” Johnny mentioned.

Colora looked back at Johnny, already having finished the tea.

“What’s the question honey?” Colora replied, she started looking at Johnny intently. Just in case it was something serious.

“Were you the one who bought this magazine?” Johnny answered, showing Colora the hairstyling magazine. Colora was relieved to hear it was just about that.

“Oh! Yes I did!” Colora replied excitedly, “I figured since we essentially have a mini summer break because of the machines, I thought hairstyling might help!” Colora then switched to a disappointed face, “But sadly, that book was boring! I guess it’s true of what they say, check out the market before you park it!”

“Yeah…” the content was pretty crummy.” Johnny responded. “Although we don’t have to return that magazine exactly…”

Colora switched to a more confused face, “What do you mean?”

“Colora”, Johnny continued, “Do you want me to style your hair?”

Colora switched to a more happier face on the flick of a dime.

“Really?!” Colora exclaimed excitedly, “Thank you!” Johnny chuckled at her enthusiasm, he genuinely liked her goofiness.

Both Johnny and Colora moved to the living room, with Johnny sitting on the couch and with Colora slightly propped up against the cushions. Johnny figured a low, loose ponytail would suit her.

“Hey babe” Johnny asked, “Do you have a hair tie on you?”

Colora shook her head, “Sorry honey, I don’t. But! There should be some in the bathroom!”

“Thanks babe” said Johnny as he went to the bathroom, he came back into the living room with one hair tie around one of his wired fingers.

Both of them had a very fun morning to say. Whilst Johnny was doing Colora’s hair, Colora was chatting with him about random topics: Art, painting, Melody Maestra and Professor Rocket having recently discovered romantic tension, etc.

In the end, Johnny was right. Colora looks very beautiful in a messy low and loose ponytail.

[anons-has-hlvrai-aus]

The Metamorphosis of Gordon Freeman [Chapter 9]

Hundreds of Skeletons

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Bubby learns about Gordon’s newest house guests.

Word Count: 3,247

Ao3 Version

Notes: Happy Halloween ya silly ghouls, even if it’s still April for our silly Science boys! The second half of this particular chapter might need some redoing at a later time, but for now I like what I have for this being my first time writing from Bubby’s perspective.

Benrey being given permission to have skeletons in Gordon’s house in any capacity whatsoever was a bad idea. Literally anybody could have told the poor bitch that much if he had asked them beforehand if it was a good or bad idea, not that he would have listened, of course.

Unfortunately, Dr. Gordon Freeman did NOT ask and the end result was absolutely hilarious.

Bubby had come over to update the duo on his current employment status, so he wasn’t expecting to see such a large quantity of the undead in one place. He was glad he showed up when he did. This was fucking gold.

The house wasn’t exactly swarming with anatomically correct skeletons, but it certainly wasn’t a small amount either. It was like being on-set for some sort of terrible remake of the Thriller music video, except none of the skeletons he saw when invited inside were anywhere that one would expect a skeleton to be.

Granted, most people don’t have anatomically correct skeletons in their possession to such a high degree, so it could maybe be argued that every skeleton in the house was someplace you wouldn’t expect a skeleton to be. But Bubby would argue that this was more so, because most anatomically correct skeletons (hell, even most anatomically INCORRECT skeletons) aren’t half-clipped into the walls and ceilings, which is a shame because Halloween would be significantly more interesting if they could do that.

It wasn’t Halloween, though. It was the tail-end of motherfucking April. And Gordon had spectacularly fucked up, as he usually does.

The man wasn’t nearly as disheveled as he would have expected him to be, given the situation.

“…I think Benrey and I are going to need to talk on what definition he considers ‘a few’ to be for the…” Gordon motioned weirdly with his left hand, his right one was not currently attached so Bubby rightfully assumed that it was elsewhere. “…Overall quantity of skeletons that he has invited into my house.”

Bubby stifled a laugh. “You fucked up, Gordon.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“You fucked up quite prettily.”

“I know!”

They sat at opposite ends of the kitchen table. There was a skeleton sitting in one of the empty seats to Gordon’s left. It gently pushed a mug of coffee into his reach, which Gordon responded to by pushing the mug aside while mumbling “No, really, I think I’m done for now. I don’t need more coffee.” He looked at his wrist for a moment, something he did pretty often and for longer than he probably realized, and then at Bubby. “Do you want, like, a tuna sandwich or something?”

Typical Gordon. The man couldn’t stay still for even a second. He was about 60% certain he had some severely undiagnosed ADHD.

“How long have your visitors been here for?” He asked back. He didn’t NOT want a sandwich, but he didn’t really want to stay here longer than he needed to before Movie Night tonight, given how overbearing Gordon had become.

“Since Sunday…sometimes they show up in this quantity and…” He combed his hand through his thick ponytail. “I don’t know. It’s annoying. They start amassing whenever I decide to take my prosthetic off. I’m just trying to give my body a rest, you know???”

Bubby understood what he meant. He knew how Harold’s prosthetics worked, and how often he, too, would need to take his off from his taxing it could be to have on. They were slightly different on account that Gordon’s was one hand and Harold’s was multiple full limbs that came with Extendo Arms and Power Legs, but they otherwise functioned like a normal prosthetic, so he understood well enough that Gordon needed to take the hand off from time to time.

So like, he did get it.

But Gordon did also need to realize that he was being a fucking idiot by not realizing WHY the skeletons were acting the way that they were.

Bubby grunted before answering. “Those skeletons are probably some sort of caretaker or guardian. Haven’t you noticed how they’re getting antsy at anything that could hurt you?”

Gordon quietly side-eyed a skeleton that was standing in front of the breadbox, mixing a bowl of canned tuna with some Japanese mayonnaise. The toaster was next to the breadbox, and next to the toaster was a skeleton that looked at it with an aura of somebody who’s mother had been insulted. “…here to protect us…” He mumbled, “So Coomer was right about the skeletons too, I guess.”

“Of course he was! It checks out to me at the very least.” Bubby shrugged. “It’s the only explanation I can think of. The specimens they had at Black Mesa didn’t really explain it any, and I don’t blame them. They have every right to keep their jeeps.”

“Keep their-?? Okay but why are they acting like this in response to me taking my prosthetic off?”

“Gordon, do you have ANY idea how pathetic you were when you only had one arm?”

Gordon sighed. It was a dumb question. Of course Gordon knew, but sometimes Bubby had to be the one to state the obvious so that Gordon could get something into his thick head. “I guess I am a bit of a pussy when shit gets difficult, huh?”

“Obviously.”

Gordon leaned back into his chair with a loud groan of annoyance. “I don’t need babysitting though! I understand the concern but like…I can take care of myself!”

‘How ironic.’ Bubby thought to himself. ‘Not so nice being the one that gets babied about insignificant shit. It’s not exactly the same but…whatever’

He probably should have been speaking his mind aloud instead of keeping his own jeeps about the situation. Something told him that it would save a lot of trouble if he did so…but foresight was stupid and so was the concept of hindsight.

Also there was no way in Hell he was going to address The Problem on his own, especially when Gordon was currently fucked three ways south of the Nile River with fucked-up alien puberty. Bubby was leagues better than Gordon when it came to actually helping people out with personal problems, but only because he was willing to actively check on somebody when he knew something was wrong.

Bubby was incredibly blunt in those sorts of situations, and the last thing Gordon needed was bluntness.

So yeah, no, Bubby was going to put Gordon’s stupid controlling behaviors aside for now.

A bony hand placed a pair of toasted tuna sandwiches on the center of the table.

Fine.

Maybe he was a little hungry.

They ate quietly, Bubby’s eyes tracked down skeletons and followed their paths of movement across the house when he could. There were at least ten in the kitchen right now; Gordon mentioned that in the past few days there were normally about three or four that usually scouted around and made sure to turn on at least one light source whenever he entered a room. When Gordon had checked the attic earlier to find Benrey, it had been filled to full capacity with skeletons all standing around idly, which explained some of the stranger noises he kept hearing upstairs. This, too, was a new development.

Bubby couldn’t tell if this was Benrey throwing Gordon’s nonsense back at him tenfold or if he really, genuinely thought the man was that vulnerable with one hand missing. Perhaps that was a bit much, even for Dr. Pussy.

“Okay so,” Gordon said between bites. “I know you don’t come to my house this soon before movie night, so what brought you here? Update on the Burger King stuff?”

“You goddamn know it.” He laughed. Finally, it was his turn to talk about shit. “My first day is going to be on Saturday, so I expect you and Benrey to follow through with coming to see me during lunch hours.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Gordon gave a thumb up.

“Good!”

“Yeah. So uh…we know what we’re doing for dinner tonight?”

“Well, I was going to suggest Popeyes. If we’re watching Jurassic Park, we have every right to feast upon the better version of Dino Nuggies.” It was totally that. Bubby absolutely wasn’t feeling bad for Gordon going through a rough spot.

“Honestly, I couldn't agree more. I’ll see if I can get Benrey to, uh, tone down the number of skeletons before everyone gets here tonight.”

“Benrey can control them with the Sweet Voice, can’t he?”

Gordon looked at his own sandwich vacantly for half a second before turning to look at the skeleton nearest to them, the one that had been bringing him coffee. He opened his mouth, then closed it, seeming to mull over it. “…what would I even use? Like…do I just tell it to go away? It’s one of Benrey’s too so like…will it even listen-?”

“For God’s sake Gordon, Just sing at the fucking skeleton!” Bubby yelled. He hated when Gordon overthought stuff. He’s a scientist! The least he could do was be reckless from time to time.

“Okay! Okay!” Gordon turned to the skeleton again and sung out some bubbles of color. Bubby didn’t know what they meant. Shit, he could hardly tell what some of them were half the time, and God…it was so embarrassing to admit that he hadn’t even said anything to anybody. And why should he? The perfect life form should NOT have to wear color-correcting glasses!

The skeleton started catching the bubbles of light with its hands before it eventually backed away to stand uncomfortably close to another skeleton to shoot its own beam of color. And then both skeletons went to other skeletons to do the same thing, and so on until there were just a handful of skeletons overall in the kitchen. Significantly more tolerable for everybody involved.

“Probably should have figured that Sweet Voice was the solution.” Said Gordon.

“I guess, but you can’t always rely on Benrey when you’ve got weird shit going on.”

A sigh. “I know that. Unfortunately, my last attempt to figure said shit out on my own resulted in me getting stuck in a wall. Noclipping is fucking bullshit…”

Gordon had learned how to noclip? Perhaps this alien puberty thing was going to go by faster than they expected. Good. That meant they could all get Gordon out of their hair faster. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I guess so, man. I guess so…”

Well, no need to stick around. Bubby got up quickly. “See you tonight.”

“See ya tonight, man.”

-

“He’s just being protective.” Tommy said assuredly. He had claimed the passenger seat, a bag full of Popeye’s combo boxes at his feet and a couple trays of drinks in his lap, while Darnold and Harold talked in the back about a potion to cure the latter’s Green Goo allergy.

Bubby grimaced. “With hundreds of those things?”

“Benrey can overdo things sometimes.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, it was very funny.”

“He really is trying to show that he cares…” Tommy said with a frown. Something was wrong.

“You’re bothered. You’ve got that bothered tone. What did Gordon do this time?”

The younger man pursed his lips, avoiding eye-contact.

“Tommy.”

“He’s doing that thing again.”

“With Benrey? I can’t imagine it’ll last more than a week. He was quite the contrarian black in Back-fuck…”

“But it’s different now! Benrey is…he wants to be Gordon’s friend and…”

“…and?”

“I just, he, Benrey had said-he told me he was going to…he doesn’t want to argue with Gordon anymore.”

Darnold pitched in. When did he join this conversation? “He’s going to hold Benrey to a higher bar than the rest of us.”

“This is quite true.” Harold added, his tone dangerously serious. “Benrey is far more alien in his mannerisms compared to the rest of us, and Gordon already has negative associations with him. He is more likely to nitpick with him…and given our security friend’s pre-established infatuations with Dr. Freeman, I don't know if he'll be able to bite back if he gets pushed too far.”

Tommy locked his fingers together. “I told him he’s gotta stand up for himself if Gordon does too much so he doesn’t become a boiled frog, but I don’t know if he’ll actually do it. He’s trying so hard for Gordon to like him…”

“I can’t fathom what he sees in Gordon.” Said Bubby. “If he’s about to become a boiled frog, then the rest of us are all frogs that got stung in the river. We should just do the smart thing and pull Benrey out of there right now, save us all the trouble of something actually bad happening to him because of Gordon’s fruitless need to make everything normal.” His voice tensed up as he felt the fire in his chest getting hotter. “I mean, oh my god, we get it! You were subjected to the horrors of having become an actual puppet to some higher being and not knowing who YOU are as a person because your entire personality was shaped by the actions of another person, big deal! There’s at least four other people in this neighborhood alone that had the exact same experience and they’re literally fine. AND they live across the street from you!”

“Bubby!” Harold yelled. The vehicle became silent aside from the engine. Harold let out a long, deep exhale before answering in his usual calm voice. “I agree that it is…aggravating to deal with Gordon’s Gordon-ness, but we must remember to have patience. I still firmly believe that there’s stuff Gordon hasn’t told us about what happened out there, stuff that cannot be easy to explain, let alone understand.”

Darnold could be heard shuffling in his seat oddly. “I know you explained it all to me a few weeks ago but…when you phrase it the way you did just now, Bubby-”

“An explanation is not an excuse.” He interrupted, stone-faced and focused on traffic.

“It’s not. But it still sounds pretty bad.”

Harold rebuttaled…rebutted…whatever the word was, he did it. “As somebody that has seen the edge of reality by accident, if only for a moment, I can assure you that it is not a pleasant experience. I lost my marbles trying to process it all and tried everything in my power to escape. Gordon did it on purpose, and WITH purpose.”

“What’s your point?”

“…Bubby, I believe that when I tried to escape through the hole in Gordon’s suit, it did something to both of our codes. I see things I wasn’t able to before, and I can always tell when something is…wrong…with Gordon.”

“You…?” Bubby’s blood felt unusually cold. He met Harold’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. Darnold, also in view, seemed rightfully horrified.

“I’m sure you understand why I am once again hesitant to abandon Gordon, knowing this now. I agree that we should ‘hit da bricks’ as they say, but if I’m going to hold the guilt of knowing his every moment of emotional turmoil, I think the least we should do is try to talk with Gordon about how his actions affect us”

“We tried that already, and he immediately started spitting out a fucking rainbow.”

“I’m aware. We’ll have to find an appropriate time.”

“And when exactly is that, Harold?”

The man was quiet.

“He has a point…” Tommy said with a whisper.

Darnold agreed as well. “It isn’t really a conversation that can be put off indefinitely. None of us are going to be here this time next year, and you said yourself last time that this conversation-”

“Was better than just leaving him, I know. I still believe that, but we can’t drop a reality bomb like this on a man that is already going through the second worst event of his life!”

Bubby butted back in again. “He’s a control freak and we should have put him in his place years ago, cosmic horrors be damned!”

That shut everybody up.

He was right! They all knew he was right! Gordon was a control freak, everybody knew this. Literally all of them knew! The right time to stop him was three years ago, and all they’d done is wait around for him to get better. Waited for him to actually step in when one of them was having problems instead of needing to tell him upright, only for him to back out of actually helping.

Bubby had wanted to be upfront about it, multiple times! But nobody would volunteer to join him in such a confrontation. It was always ohhhh noooo it’s too soon, or oh nooooo we just need to give him time to settle in! Well now they were still stuck in this stupid limbo while on the precipice of multiple life-changing events.

Bubby had made it clear that he was never, ever going to be the one that pulls off the world-shattering bandaids if he was alone. The fact nobody else wanted to help him was on them.

“Dr. Bubby…” Tommy whimpered. Shit. He forgot that the kid could read minds. “Dr. Bubby.” He said again, annoyed.

“What?”

“…We all fucked up.”

Yes. Everybody else fucked up.

“That includes you.”

…well, shit.

“We all…everybody knew that it was a problem, and all of us were too scared to talk about it before it became a, uh, fixture of our lives. Benrey is getting pulled in too now…and I have a really bad feeling about it. We’ve all been staying out of…of obligation, and even though we all grabbed new opportunities the moment they were given to us, we still owe Mister Freeman our support.”

“We made that promise because he was like a baby deer with how much nothing he knew. Fucker didn’t even know how to use his own goddamn hands and feet.”

“We still promised. Because he needed us. And now he needs us again. We still have to tell him eventually that the way he treats us is wrong, but we still need to help. He doesn’t even know that his actions hurt us. He’s not, he doesn’t hurt us on purpose…”

“But that doesn’t address the bigger question of when we should tell him that his behavior is straight-up toxic.”

…

……

“I have a proposition.”

Everybody gave their attention to Darnold.

“Obviously, we’re not all leaving at the same time, but it will all still be happening sometime in early January. If we want to do this right, the latest we can afford to tell him is before the start of autumn. That gives us about four months to see how the whole metamorphosis thing works out. If it’s going fine, we do it sooner, and if not…well, we don’t really have a choice.”

It wasn’t a bad plan. It was spaced out enough that if they dropped the news on Gordon and it didn’t end well, it at the very least meant Bubby didn’t have to do any holiday shopping for him. Plus, more time for being able to pack all his shit up.

“It feels terrible to have to break such news to him at all.” Harold sighed.

Bubby gave him a final reassurance before they parked in a familiar driveway. “We were all planning to leave anyway, regardless of if we were given these opportunities or not. Even if it will make the separation more painful, he deserves to know.”

With a click of his keys, the whole car became dead silent.

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

(Some family fluff with Mastermind Takaaki and Human Monomi)

It was freezing in their room. The heater was broken, somehow. Monokuma was trying his best to get the problem fixed up, but it seems it was futile. Since they couldn't hire repair men, they'd have to do it themselves. "Might as well just install fireplaces in the rooms if the heater can't be fixed." Takaaki angrily said as he tried his best to keep warm. The blankets weren't doing much. It was freezing still.

"Dammit, it's like an ice box in here...Usami, grab another blanket for yourself, better yet, find a jacket for yourself. Those sleeves are too thin. I don't want you getting sick." Takaaki told the bunny next to him. He was glad she had clothes for cold weather, but it wasn't enough to keep her very warm. "You need one too, Takaaki!" Monomi argued. "I'll be fine, I'm more worried about you than anything." Takaaki argued back.

Monomi just snuggled close to him. Maybe they could try to keep each other warm. "I wonder if we have hot chocolate..." Monomi thought aloud.

"Probably. Want some?" Takaaki asked her.

"Maybe later...my, it's so cold!" Monomi wrapped herself in the blankets more, covering her entire body. It was very cold, even with Takaaki's warm attire, he was freezing. "You wonder if it might snow in here?" Takaaki joked. "It's cold enough for it to snow, probably."

"Maybe."

"Sucks that it's cold outside too, then we could just leave and bask in the sun." Takaaki shivered more. Maybe he should grab another jacket for himself. This one blanket wasn't really enough. Monomi's three thick, warm blankets weren't enough either. "Shit, it's so damn cold." Takaaki looked at Monomi who was holding onto him for warmth.

Takaaki tried to think of how she could warm up. He sighed to himself and removed his trench coat. He removed the blankets off of her and quickly wrapped his coat around her. Then wrapped her in a three layered burrito. "There, you're gonna be a little warmer now on your upper half.." Takaaki said, smiling. "But we need to do something about your pants."

"Aki, take your coat back! You need it to be warm!" Monomi said. "You'll get sick!" She worriedly looked up at him. "It's fine, again, I'm more worried about you. I'm not going to die, anyways." Takaaki laughed, trying to ease her worries. He picked her up and laid her down on the bed. He climbed into the bed next to her, hiding in the covers with her. "I hope that bastard Monokuma fixes that damn heater." Takaaki muttered in annoyance.

Monomi nodded, hiding her face in Takaaki's coat. It smelled so much like him. She could see him shivering, hiding more underneath the covers, muttering curses under his breath. She snuggled up next to him again, wrapping a blanket covered arm around him. "If you get sick it's your fault." Monomi pouted.

It made Takaaki grin at her. He kissed her cheek, "I know. Thanks for worrying."

It took three more days of freezing their asses off for Monokuma to finally get the heater fixed. "Fucking finally." Takaaki said, sniffling. "Took him long enough." He sipped his hot chocolate, then sneezed after swallowing. He cursed into his cup. Monomi giggled into her hand, "Guess you did get sick." She said.

Takaaki leaned on her, grunting. He played with one of her side ponytails, "Yeah, yeah, you knew. So what? Be grateful I kept you warm."

That got him a blown raspberry.

He just smiled in amusement.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Absolutely obsessed with Tessa and Rhett and the Lumens soulmate au!!!!!! Such little babies dealing with such a big thing so early in life!!!!! God I just love them 🥰🥰🥰

I know these poor little babies 🥺 it is confusing enough being 16, but then you're meeting your SOULMATE the person who is literally the other half of you and you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with and holy geez of COURSE they're gonna mess it up.

But hey, they're getting somewhere at least.

Part 1 | Part 2

"M'sorry m'not who you wanted your soulmate t'be," Tess mumbles, tears in her eyes, as soon as Rhett is standing directly in front of her.

He swallows something thick. Face pinched up like she just punched him in the gut. And maybe she did.

"No, don't say that - m'sorry. I shouldn't've...I didn't mean it...I was just surprised s'all."

"That s'just me and not somebody else?"

"No! That it...happened at all. In front of everybody like that. I panicked - didn't - didn't know what to do. Thought stuff I shouldn't've and - "

"Were you disappointed?" she asks, arms wrapped around herself and refusing to acknowledge the flowers twirling between his forefinger and thumb, dropped at his side. or the way their lumens continued to circle one another, both of them brighter and lighter than they had been since that day in the hall.

Rhett sighs, deciding to be honest when he didn't want to be. "For a split second..." She rolls her eyes, lips pulled between her teeth, a tear slips down her cheek that he wants to wipe away but doesn't. "I mean, weren't you hopin' for somebody?"

Tess looks at him with her lip quivering and her fingers digging into herself so tight he's sure she's trying to collapse in on herself like a dying star.

And understanding hits him red hot in the center of his chest and he has the decency to look away from her as he says, "Oh."

She was hoping it would be him

Tess whimpers, foot stamping into the dirt. She's embarrassed. She's frustrated. She's so hurt she feels like she's bleeding right from her heart. She just wants to run away, to disappear, to try and pretend like this never happened and move on with her life.

She turns on her heel and starts walking away from him, along the fence line

But she doesn't get far

Rhett goes after her and grabs her wrist, spins her to face him and with her momentum trying to pull away and him trying to get her to stay, she collides with his chest. Face pressed into his flannel.

He smells like chewing tobacco and hay and axe body spray and it smells like where she's meant to be. Against her own will she sinks into it, she relaxes into his touch. It's that unexplainable comfort she gets from Cowboy but turned up to 100.

And there she stays, too comfortable and too embarrassed to pull her face away and look into what she can only assume is a face of discomfort from him.

But of course, it's not. Rhett's never felt so at peace in his entire life. He sinks into her like breathing. He drops the flowers and his hand threads into her hair - through her ponytail to hold her right there against him.

"I'm sorry, Tess, and I'm probably gonna be sorry for the rest of my life. I know I hurt you. But you are my soulmate. I wouldn't have it any other way. I - I've been waiting my whole life for you and I didn't even know it and you were right there the whole time."

She's still hurt, but he sounds so sincere, and being with him feels so right. And she really can't help the dopey little smile that overcomes her as she mumbles into his chest, "You know my name?"

It makes Rhett laugh. "Course I do. You're the best barrel racer Wabang's ever seen."

The tension is broken. There's still hurt feelings there, there's still a lot to work through, but it's a start.

Tess pulls away from him and picks up the flowers with a smile.

They walk along the fence line together, so close their fingers are brushing together, talking quietly about anything

Their lumens swirling around each other overhead, bright and beautiful as they sun and the sky meeting together at last

[misc-obeyme]

I'm bored, could I draw Ciaran? I study Graphic and Fashion Design, but I draw for fun, and I'm no expert. I love character design, so could you give me some information on Ciaran's appearance and fashion style so I can give it a try?

Give me super-duper ✨️details✨️ appearance and fashion style please!! That would help me a lot.

If you want to ofc.

Of course! Anyone is free to draw any of my OCs/MC whenever they want! I know most of them don't have descriptions adslkfj but I actually spent WAY too many hours making picrews of them all so I could finally create their profile posts. I'm too lazy to make moodboards for everybody like I did for Ciaran and Arsenios.

Oh, anyway, sorry I got a bit off topic there!

You are absolutely welcome to draw Ciaran if you feel so inspired!

OH BOY. You want super duper details, eh? That's like... my specialty lol. Here I go!

Body-wise, Ciaran is on the shorter side for someone who is amab. I tend to think of them as like 5'4" and a half, but they round that up to 5'5" lol. That's pretty average for most people, but Ciaran comes from a family of tall peeps. Plus I think of most of the demons as being between 5'10" and like... 6'4" so comparatively, Ciaran is quite short. They're also chubby. Definitely all soft and round, with a sorta hourglass figure shape. Mostly hips and belly, but nothing crazy proportion-wise.

They're Irish so you know, rather pale. Not really freckled but will get them if they spend a lot of time in the sun.

Naturally black hair, but they dye it blue. This means the color can vary. Since they bleach their black hair to dye it blue, when they've freshly dyed it, it'll be a deeper more vibrant blue. But if it's been a while, it'll be a more sky blue color. It's short, the back goes to maybe the middle of their neck while the front stops around their chin. Side part that varies sides because it's wild. Not curly, but very wavy and just kinda all over the place. It's juuuust long enough to put into a tiny ponytail, which they will do sometimes. But more often if they need it out of their face, they'll clip it back with some kinda cutesy barrette. (I think Asmo has probably given them a ton of these lol.)

Their eyes are mostly dark green with maybe a hint of lighter green in the depths. They're also one of those lucky people who have long eyelashes. And they don't dye their eyebrows, so they're just black. And they're not super thick, but perhaps thicker than average? I'm not super dedicated to that detail, though.

Face is very round, due to the chubby lol. They get their ears pierced while in the Devildom, but they don't start out with that so it just depends. When the ears are pierced, they wear simple studs.

Style-wise, I describe Ciaran's style as hipster with a side of punk. They like corduroy and sweaters, but then they'll wear Converse shoes and leather jackets. Usually wears paint stained overalls when they're painting. They like bright colors so most of their sweaters/t-shirts are blue, yellow, or green. Pretty much always wearing sneakers, I'd say they have a single pair of Converse that are their favorites and they wear those all the time. Probably just black and white.

They carry around a brown leather messenger bag situation where they keep all their stuff.

Known to wear scarves whenever it's even a tiny bit cold and they're all like... plaid lol. Definitely has a preference for green/blue plaid, but will wear red/black plaid as well. Sometimes wears pants with those patterns, too.

When dressing up a little, they'll go with fancy pants, suspenders, and a bow tie with their usual Converse because they care most about comfort.

They often have their nails painted, but the colors vary depending on their mood. (Likely Asmo does this for them when they live in the HoL. Left to his own devices, Ciaran isn't super reliable about repainting his nails so they're often chipped as hell lol.)

HOWEVER. On special occasions, Ciaran will completely glam it up.

For instance, if the demons really want him to get snazzy, he will wear a three piece suit. Like it's kinda he doesn't care about this stuff. Most of the time, they prefer comfort, but if they want to, they can absolutely rock a suit and look good doing it.

Likely they're going to do some glitz with that, though. Wearing gold jewelry and having Asmo do their makeup. Style their hair so it isn't as crazy lol.

And sometimes, Ciaran will also glam it up femme style. This is very much a situation where they let Asmo dress them up, basically. But even back in the human world, they would do this. It usually involved borrowing their sister's clothes, which is funny because she's a lot taller. But Ciaran will just put on some heels and call it good.

When they do stuff like this, they like to get really flashy. So it's all sequins and glitter and such. They'll do their hair in a fancy updo or curl it or something. They definitely like that kinda old school Hollywood glam style. But this is a rare occurrence because they don't care to bother doing it most of the time. And they're also the type who will like... go to bed with a full face of makeup because they're too tired to take it off. And like if they're doing this, you know they're planning on partying.

Anyway, now that I've written an essay's worth about Ciaran's appearance and style, I hope that helps! You asked for details and well... here they are lol!

[butterscotchblues]

329.

i may have girlbossed a little too close to the sun this weekend.

first of all, i've been out every night since thursday? truly only family (including chosen) could make me do a triple night out, my god.

thursday i went to dinner and a play with my parents. which was a real sweet time. took them to my favorite halal cafe up the street from me and then went to see 'the wash' at synchronicity theater. my mom knows the playwright and i believe this was her first major production, if i'm not mistaken. her mom and mine have been friends since we were in elementary school so we've kinda grown up adjacent to one another? anyway, it was really good and i'm both proud and inspired. i keep thinking about what it took for her to get her script onto a stage and wow. being a creator is unlike anything.

that night was quaint and slow, 8/10. -2 cause i started my period and i was unprepared like fuck. i had on cream pants too, wtf was i thinking? but everything worked out. pants still intact. i'm too grown for that type of miscalculation lmao.

earlier in the week pro called me and said that she wanted to take coco to the strip club since she was going to be proposing on saturday. i agreed because, sure. when she called on friday though, we thought maybe bowling would be more coco's speed. coco loves bowling lol. so i thought that's what we had agreed on. i pull up to pro's and i'm there for like two hours before coco, her brother, and nia pop up. turns out.. we hitting the booty club. my god.

being sober in the booty club is wild as fuck. a first for me. it turned out to be a good time though, can't lie. i hadn't been since like 2018 when i used to perform at onyx on mondays. we all sat at the bar, settled in, they all pregamed before and resumed drinking once we got there. me? water on the fucking rocks. i didn't plan on doing anything forreal, i just came to support coco and be with the homies. i took out $100 and didn't even plan to spend it all. we on a budget round these parts baby.

but then i saw this one dancer LOL.

she was on the stage wearing this black fishnet bodysuit. she had a white satin bow in her head fastening a long black ponytail. she was wearing two pearl strand necklaces too. idk but the pearls really set it off for me. she looked like an amalgamation of all the brownskinned 90's sitcom actresses. i kept my eye on her for a while til coco caught on and called her over to me for a dance. this nigga lol. the dance was good. awkward because i didn't count on having a strangers bare ass in my lap when i was at work earlier that day, plus i was sober so i was just very aware of it all lol. but she was bad so i threw the money. when in rome, y'know. at one point she had her legs on my shoulders and i'm just staring into her pussy. like do i ask her name? hahaha.

when she was done, i felt bad that she had to pick up all the ones i threw so i bent down and started helping her. she thanked me and i thanked her for the dance.

the night pretty much went like that. i got a dance, coco got a few, nia and pro too. hookah and wings were bought. drinks for them. water for me.

around 2am, i'm thinking we're all on the same wave of winding down and calling an uber but no. that's when coco's other bff rolls in. and she is LIT. it's like she put a battery pack in everyones back lol cause niggas went BACK to the atm and did it all over again. we didn't leave til 4. when i tell you it took everything in me to stay awake omg. it felt like purgatory. there's only so much ass and titties i need to see before i simply don't give a fuck anymore, man.

the music was loud. the smoke was thick and cloudy. i got wing sauce on my seafoam sneakers. we stood outside for like half an hour waiting on an uber.

but coco had a good time and that's what matters. not my old cranky sober ass lmao.

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

i woke up with the craziest headache man. and i still got it a whole day and a half later. and i ain't even DO NUN. sober hangovers are so dumb lol. i heard em mentioned in podcasts and was like "no way" but yea... definitely a thing.

saturday was the suprise engagement. we all got to the claremont early. the decorations were so cute. we mingled and baked in the sun while we awaited the fiance-to-be to arrive.

it all went down so beautifully. i cried as soon as she turned that corner lol.

i can't believe my friend is engaged. like i can because she's been talking about it forever but i still CAN'T believe the quiet lil 19yo i met on church street in decatur all those years ago is now ready and willing to tie the knot.

emotionalllllll. i'm so happy for her.

the night ended with everybody drunk and annoying lol so i dipped. at one point i was holding two drinks in my hand and even though i knew i wasn't going to drink them... i feel like i shouldn't be putting myself in those types of predicaments regardless. like, it just felt unnecessary and it started making me anxious.

anyway, now my sleep schedule is all fucked up. getting older is a trip lol. i'm good on socializing and staying out all night for a good minute tbh.

but aside from that, so thankful for my friends. so thankful.

if you're reading this, hey!

[asukiess]

very self indulgent fic below the cut

"Ladybug?"

Ladybug usually hates being torn from her thoughts. If stopped abruptly, she'd never find the same sentence again in her head. She would rewind and rethink and try and rouse the same sentiments, but the undisputable fact of her mind was that once left, a thought was as good as gone forever. Marinette herself had lost track of how many times she'd apologetically said to Alya I literally can't remember what I was going to say. How many stories of hers were half-finished.

But what she was thinking of remains half-finished all on its own. It stopped middle-page a month ago, and no matter how much she tried to come up with an ending herself, it never felt right.

Besides. Ladybug might be clueless to how her own mind worked, but Cat Walker's steady voice, even when asking a question, makes her heart beat a little faster. So when she turns she braces herself, but ends up completely dumbfounded.

Cat Walker's hair is down. What was usually pulled smartly back into a ponytail has spilled loose, with thick, long strands rolling down her high collar, rolling over her shoulders and brushing past her gold cord. She stands tall, but her face is apologetic. In her fingers is a broken elastic band. Her eyes follow the same sheepishness of her smile as she says, "I didn't know this was possible, to be truthful. I was fixing my hair and the band broke in my hands."

Utterly transfixed, Ladybug forgets to do anything but stare. After a beat, she dumbly whispers, "So green!"

Cat Walker looks down at her hair. "Um, yes." She blinks. "I was wondering if you had a spare ribbon I may borrow until the end of patrol? I would hate to waste Plagg's food on a simple wardrobe mistake."

"O-oh!" Ladybug snaps out of her daze. "A ribbon, of course!" She pats where her pockets would be, and then her yo-yo, hands stalling suddenly. She screws up her face. "Actually, I don't have a spare. That's never happened to me." She tilts her head and immediately undoes one of her pigtails. "But you can borrow mine!"

Cat Walker shakes her head and Ladybug tries her best not to admire how perfect her hair is. "No, you don't have to do that, really!"

But the red ribbon is already off, and Ladybug's mind is stuck singularly on an idea now. She pats the spot in front of her. "Come here, I can tie up your hair for you!"

Cat Walker takes a small step forward. "You don't have to do that. I'm capable myself. It's my fault, anyhow."

Ladybug pats the ground more insistently. "It'll be fun! I love brushing other people's hair."

It was a half-truth. She really did have fond memories of brushing her maman's hair growing up, and Marinette loved it in return. Kagami would allow her hair to be brushed every now and then, but Alya's was strictly off limits after a trainwreck of an attempt two years ago.

Cat Walker smiles before setting herself before Ladybug, crossing her legs and sitting up straight. "Okay. Thank you, Ladybug. I promise to have a long talk with Plagg about the, um, durability of the suits. They certainly shouldn't be able to change that easily."

"Maybe you should thank Plagg!" Ladybug reaches over Cat Walker's shoulders and gently gathers the hair back, the back of her knuckles grazing the collar's gold-trimmed rim. "I've never seen your hair like this. It's beautiful!"

"Thank you," Cat Walker says while Ladybug brushes from the middle through the ends, fingers trailing a little past to follow an invisible line down her spine. Ladybug does it a few more times absentmindedly.

Cat Walker clears her throat. "If you would kindly pull it into a high ponytail? When it's low, my neck, ah, gets a little hot." Ladybug watches her head duck forward. When Ladybug doesn't say anything in return, Cat Walker adds quickly, "Because of the weather, of course."

"Aw, you don't wanna try pigtails?" Ladybug jokes. She slides her fingers from the base of her neck and up, repeating the action until a good handful is gathered. Aiming for perfection, Ladybug even combs her fingers over the top to work out the bumps.

The more her hand works at Cat Walker's hair, the more her shoulders slump forward, a little bit of the rigidness melting away. Cat Walker's voice sounds slow, subdued. "Whatever you want to do is okay with me, Ladybug."

Ladybug's laughter comes out like a bark. "Don't ask me what I want!" Frayed by her own nerves, she accidentally pulls on Cat Walker's hair so hard that her neck cranes to follow the movement. "I think one thing, and then five minutes later it's a one-eighty." Ladybug notices the pained expression carefully being restrained on her partner's face, and she immediately loosens her grip. "I'm sorry! I'm terrible at this." She tries to regather the long, heavy strands again, brushing through the ends, but her own hands feel clumsy and heavy and they pull on more than a few knots that she works through without much grace. "I've been trying my own hair up daily for like, three years now. You'd think I'd be better!"

Cat Walker makes a sound somewhere between a hum and a clearing of her throat. "It's still nice." She turns a little, just enough to look behind at Ladybug. "You have very... thoughtful hands."

Ladybug stops her ministrations completely. "Are you joking? I think I've torn out like, a few hundred strands now."

Cat Walker turns her whole torso now, and Ladybug, fingers thoroughly threaded in the long dark strands, forgets to let go. Or maybe her hands feel nice there, even when it forces Ladybug closer to her partner.

Cat Walkers eyes are wide and her lips are pulled into a frown. "No, not at all! Unless you want me to be?"

Ladybug hates the way Cat Walker looks at her sometimes. Chat Noir was coy and dramatic, eyes glowing with reverence but always bouncing from Ladybug's eyes to the city, asking her where she might want to have an impromptu date. The cinema, the park, or my house? I have a very soft bed, you know. Imported cotton, highest thread count, something like that. Don't roll your eyes, I was just kidding!

Ladybug hates the way Cat Walker looks at her because Ladybug can never easily look away. Almost militantly, it's like she's always asking Ladybug something that she doesn't have an answer for, but Cat Walker waits anyway with a patience that makes Ladybug's skin itch.

And from this small of a distance, she almost forgets how to speak.

Ladybug shakes her head. "No. Not if you mean it."

"Okay," Cat Walker says, her smile thin and maybe Ladybug would have missed it if her eyes weren't already fixed there. "I mean it."

"Me, too," Ladybug breathes, or doesn't, hand still buried in her Cat Walker's hair, so close to the nape of her neck that gets hot and radiates the heat she must be feeling even through her gloved hand.

Cat Walker's chuckle is all air, fanning over Ladybug's feverish cheeks. "Mean what?"

"I mean...," Ladybug starts, feelings as though only two words can fit in the distance between them. Cat Walker tilts her head, a silent question, and Ladybug thinks she knows an answer with the way her heart is racing at the thought of leaning just a little more forward until their noses bumped against each other---

"Ladybug?" Cat Walker asks again, so small she might have missed it if she hadn't studied the way her name looked on Cat Walker's lips. "Do you want me to tie your hair up, too?"

Ladybug's heart stops. She pulls back, just enough to actually breathe now. "H-huh?"

Cat Walker reaches over with a smile, brushing the strands from her one undone pigtail. "We could match today."

Ladybug laughs, feeling light all over. "T-that would be cute! Best of partners! Look at us!" With a trembling hand, she makes a spinning motion in the air with her finger, instructing Cat Walker to turn back around, which she does.

Ladybug breathes in deeply, then returns to her task of tying up Cat Walker's hair.

Maybe that was better off being a half-formed idea, she thinks. Something else she can try her best to forget about.

So instead, Ladybug bites her lip for her own conclusion, and tries to think of something else.

filled with absolute fem!catwalker and ladybug feelings today.

[bmpmp3]

Angie from Trauma Center ‘cause I beat that game a few days ago and I can’t stop thinking about it kjdslfdsafgdfss

I just think she’s really cute qwq

[dreamqueenkala]

Hey! Would i maybe be able to request a jacob x Fem!reader where the reader and jacob are almost opposites and not eachothers type at all (with the reader being more like abi and dylan, and a gamer pothead) but they just click and like rachother instantly, and just flirt and mutually pine. With a smutty confession? 😏

MAGNET

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Warnings: Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Awkward Geeking; Innuendos; Gentle!Dom!Jacob; Sub!Reader; Teasing; Oral(Female Receiving)

Female Reader x Jacob Custos

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

“Kids suck!” I whined as I tossed my head back, slumping in the rolling chair I’d stolen from Dylan, whom was still hunched over the radio desk. Clicking the knob, the PA system crackled before falling silent, the daily announcements finally over. Dylan exhaled heavily and turned to face me, leaning against the desk with his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles.

“Hey, they can be cute.” I deadpanned at the brunette, whom raised his hands in mock defeat. “Alright, alright, they can be a handful, sometimes…all the time.” He relented as I raised a brow, earning a chuckle from me. Brushing the (H/C) strands that had strayed from my (ponytail/bun/headband) from my face, I tossed my arms above my head and stretched. My back cracked and Dylan flinched, expressing his disgust with a gag.

“How the hell can you do that? It’s so gross.” I grinned and cracked my knuckles, the brunette groaning with distaste at the sound. “Stop! Get out with your nasty bones!”

I chuckled as he shooed me towards the door, stumbling slightly over my feet. “Fine, fine! I’ve got a teddy bear to go bother anyway.” His grin morphed into a playful smirk, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Ooooh, yes! I won’t fuck a bear, but you can definitely fuck that particular bear.” Dylan cooed, breaking out with laughter as I flipped him off. “See ya, loser!”

This was a typical occurrence between myself and my brother, Dylan. Yes, I’m a Lenivy. I’m also just as much, if not more of, a geek like my brother. IQ’s above 160, 4.0 GPA, and a huge interest in both technology and science, my brother and I were almost identical personality wise. Physically, Dylan resembled our mother more than I did. I took after my grandfathers features mostly, but my dads button nose and his thick but curved eyebrows were something I retained. My features were soft due to my feminine genes, and I embarrassingly also retained my mothers rather larger bosom and thighs, making me a bit thicker than the average female, but I wasn’t too focused on that.

Another difference between myself and my brother was our hair and eye color. He gained my dads doe eyes and my mothers chocolate curls. I, on the other hand, had my dads (H/C) waves and my mothers sharp (E/C) eyes. We really didn’t look much alike, but the similarities in our half smiles and our brains was all we needed. I adored my brother, and he adored me, despite the obsession he had with annoying me endlessly.

Dylan’s favorite topic to tease and annoy me over was my crush on a particular teddy bear of a jock. At Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp, my brother ran the announcements and I was the crafts instructor—not art like Abigail did, but rather construction like old school hand powered batteries and cranks and such. Old technology. The jock in question was the sports coach, leading the physical activities we played like Volleyball, Soccer and even Tag. He was a big guy, obviously, but unlike the stereotype people assumed he played into, underneath the surface he was actually a loveable, awkward and gold-hearted man.

He went out of his way to make others laugh or smile, much like my brother and I, and though he had that obnoxious bravado about him, he was genuinely very sweet. He sought love and acceptance, a reason to stay and a reason to be happy, something not a lot of people gave him. His name was Jacob Custos, and the guy was absolutely adorable.

Jacob and I, despite being polar opposites personality wise, hit it off from day one. We ran into each other in the lodge during orientation—literally ran into each other. His hulking frame compared to my much shorter stature barreled me over in the hall near the kitchen. If it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, my ass would’ve been broken on the old wooden flooring. No, instead, the jock had caught me with his right arm, which hooked around my waist and pulled me into his chest.

I’d never been that close to a guy, in any sense.

All he said as we met eyes was, ‘Hi.’ My brain short circuiting at the close proximity to such an attractive man, I stupidly replied with a, ‘Hey Cutie.’ The blush that rose to his cheeks was well worth it, though.

Shortly into the first week, the two of us had already become good friends. When I wasn’t supervising the kids during craft time or bothering my brother in the radio hut, I was somewhere around camp hanging out with Jacob. Despite our interests lying on opposite ends of the spectrum, we enjoyed discussing them. I adored how passionate the guy got about water polo—something he surprisingly enjoyed far more than football, even though he didn’t play on his high school team—and how often he made me laugh with his silly behavior and dramatic gestures.

I like to think Jacob enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed talking to him, if the smiles he always shared with me or the way his eyes sparkled with mirth whenever we spoke was anything to go off of. He was a genuine sweetheart through and through.

One time, to save a camper from injuring themselves building a small birdhouse, I’d swooped in and slammed my hand down over theirs. The hammer they’d been using smashed into the back of my hand and broke my middle finger. Jacob was the first to be by my side when it happened, cradling my hand and barking at the kid who’d caused the accident. They apologized, of course, and I had Abi take over my class.

Jacob could get a little too sweet sometimes, though. In that same situation, he’d scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to the clinic in the lodge. Completely unnecessary as it was only my finger that was injured, but it was sweet nonetheless. He even stayed with me til my finger was set and wrapped up safely.

Another week in and Jacob and I had begun to flip the script a bit. Our banter became a bit more…intimate, with innuendos and subtle flirting mixed in.

For instance…

“Jacob, can you help me set up the campers tents?”

“(Y/N), I don’t see why you need any help. You erect my tent without effort.”

“Jacob!”

Or…

“(Y/N) get up or you’re gonna miss breakfast!”

“Can’t miss breakfast if you’re in bed with me.”

At first, it was easy to hide it, but by the third week my brother picked up on it. Then the relentless teasing came in and I was more flustered around Jacob from that point.

Dylan was the one who helped me understand that I was infatuated with the guy. From the way my heart hammered in my chest and my cheeks flushed, to the overly bright smile I had on my face whenever I came back from hanging out with Jacob, even to how I always found a way to gush about his amazing qualities whenever it was just me and Dylan.

Jacob was amazing. Truly.

Sighing blissfully at the memories in my head, I made my way towards Jacob’s cabin. Half way up the steps the door opened, the guy in question peering past the doorframe at me. A wide smile crossed his face and he stumbled the rest of the way out, waving to Nick whom he shared his cabin with.

“Hey JC. Ready to go?”

“My hero! Saving me from the ravenous dork in my cabin.” He teased, glancing back as he began to close the door. “See ya, Nicky-Boy!”

“Fuck off, Jakey-Poo!” Nicks voice called from inside, and I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled in my throat. Grasping my left hand in his right, Jacob led me toward the clearing down the path to the firepit—Shady Glade or something. I never remembered the name of the path, I just knew it wasn’t rocky.

“‘Jakey-Poo’, huh?” I cooed after a quiet moment, quirking a brow as our hands swung. He huffed, the apples of his cheeks darkened slightly out of embarrassment. “Got a boyfriend, Mr. Custos?”

“Uh, yeah—no. Nick’s, uh, cool and all but I don’t swing that way. Preeeetty sure he’s got a thing for Abi anyway.” I rolled my eyes at his dorky explanation, squeezing his much larger hand gently.

“Good. Would’ve meant you were off the table.” His brows shot up quickly, lips parted as he whipped his head to face me.

“W-Wha—for real?”

“Jacob, do you really think either of us would be flirting like this if we weren’t at least somewhat interested in each other?” It was kind of cute how oblivious the guy could be, though, some moments tested my patience.

“W-Well, I mean—“ I covered his mouth with my free hand, tugging him to a stop in the clearing with the other. He blinked down at me owlishly, his breathe on my palm warm and his grip on my hand just a little sweaty. I smiled warmly at him, tilting my head to the side and gazing through my eyelashes into his dark eyes.

“You’re so sweet, JC. And so passionate. You’re strong and kind…” My hand left his mouth to trail down his jaw, fingertips dancing over his clothed shoulders to his pecs, tracing the dip in his abdomen where his abs were outlined, tickling the happy trail I knew hid beneath his shirt just above his v-line. He shivered, swallowing thickly as his pupils dilated slightly, shoulders quivering. “Kinda makes me wonder if you taste just as sweet.”

A deep groan left him at those words, his expression morphing from desire to panic as I moved away and released his hand. “W-Wha—(Y/N), wait!” I giggled and took off running, his thumping footsteps proceeding after me only a few seconds later. I dashed between the trees and over bushes, leaping over small rock ledges to get a boost. I hid behind a large tree and covered my mouth, holding back soft giggles. The closer he grew to me, the more my heart raced, my cheeks flushed.

“(Y/N)…” His voice was a bit deeper, huskier, the grin easy to pick out from his lifted tone. “Don’t make me find you.” I snickered softly, cutting myself off with a sharp inhale, praying he didn’t hear me. His footsteps had gone quiet, and I dared to peek my head around the right side of the tree.

“Found you.”

I squealed as his arms enveloped my waist from behind, lifting me into the air. Our laughter mingled as he spun me in circles, the absolute delight shared between us light and gentle. Settling down, I turned in his arms as my feet met the grass, hands on his biceps. His gaze softened slightly and he dipped his head down slightly, nose brushing mine.

“Can I…?” I nodded, his lips meeting mine as smooth and gentle as if I was fragile, his embrace strong but light around my waist. I hummed softly against him, my dominant hand lifting to cup his cheek. A soft sigh left his nose as we kissed and he leaned into my palm. Pressing my back against the tree, Jacob’s hands slid down to grasp at the small of my back, his hips flush to mine. The kiss ended for but a short moment, our eyes meeting slowly as we breathed in sync.

It was so soft, so sweet, so perfect—his arms cradling me, his breathe on my lips, his dark eyes swimming with absolute adoration and glee, pressed so close we could feel each other’s heart beats. I smiled so wide then, his lips curling to match mine. Our lips met again and slowly, more heat rose behind them. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip and I grinned wider, denying him entry.

He didn’t like that.

Jacob’s brows furrowed and his large fingers slid down to the curve of my ass, squeezing the flesh beneath my jeans. I gasped, enabling the male the opportunity to bury his tongue down my throat, lewd wet sounds mixed with desperate gasps and deep groans between us. My fingers on his cheek found their way to his hair, tugging at the dark locks beneath his cap. It fell to the grass as he tossed his head back, returning to me only to lather my neck in open-mouthed kisses and nips.

Arching my back, my hands found his shoulders and tugged him closer, my legs raising to wrap around his waist. Jacob’s hands moved to cup the back of my thighs, hoisting me higher up the tree til he rested on his knees and my legs were over his shoulders. I bit my lip, my (H/C) disheveled and falling from its (ponytail/bun/headband), my (S/C) skin flushed and my heart racing. Jacob gazed up at me with a sweet smile and soft eyes, pressing a kiss to my hip just beneath the hem of my shirt.

“Are you sure you want to do this, (Y/N)?” He asked, concern swimming in those deliciously dark pools of his.

“It’s always you. Only ever been you.” Swallowing thickly he tugged the hem of my jeans and panties down, pressing chaste open-mouthed kisses to my bare thighs whilst my clothes rested around my knees over his head.

Jacob exhaled softly over my core, a loud mewl leaving me as his tongue prodded at my clit. Eyes rolling back, I bucked my hips forward as his lips enclosed around my clit, tongue flicking the bundle of nerves with fervor. My fingers threaded through his hair and I tugged hard, sweet high-pitched moans and stammered whimpers the only encouragement he needed.

Jacob’s tongue moved down and pressed into my hole, greedily slurping at the slick already presenting itself between my thighs. I crossed my ankles and bucked my hips more, his groans of satisfaction stimulating me further. My moans became squeaking whines and I felt the ball building in my stomach tremble.

“J-Jacob, ah—! P-Please!” His eyes flicked up to meet mine, taking in my expression of ecstasy. A deep groan from him muffled against my pussy was more than enough to throw me over the edge, a soft cry muffled by my hand against my lips the only sound other than Jacob’s slurping. My thighs quivered against his shoulders, my eyes rolled back as the high slowly relaxed. Jacob lowered me to the ground carefully, fixing my clothes back in place and wiping his face on his shirt.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled, smiling at me so innocently lovedrunk you wouldn’t have thought he’d been doing something so sinfully intimate to me. His arms enveloped me, pulling me against his chest and his nose burying itself in my hair. I curled my arm around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek, gazing up at him with pure love and joy.

“You’re handsome. And all mine.” I replied, earning a soft chuckle from the goofy jock.

“All yours, angel.”

[rom-e-o]

@quill-pen girl I am OBSESSED with all these choices! These are such amazing inspo, honestly! You’re finding amazing options for her and I am LIVING for them.

1) This is so specific, but I can see her wearing this on one of those sunset train rides. Whether it with the girls, Adonis, or the whole family, I can see her wearing this while sipping a drink or sticking her head out the window playfully to feel the breeze.

2) Another super sweet errand dress! I can see her wearing this for a quick trip to the farmer’s market and bakery on a nice weather day. Or maybe even a little coffee run.

3) WINTER DATE NIGHT! I imagine she wears a thick coat, then once they take a set and she slides it off, Adonis catches that midriff on full display. It practically begs to be kissed. At the end of the date, his hands are sliding all up that blouse and down the skirt. 😏

4) A day dress, like the Victorians used to love. This looks like a comfy piece perfect for hanging out at home, maybe doing some light yard work. I see this looking super cute with a loose braid.

5) Bar hopping. She wears a little bralette under that lace top (which helps nothing) for a daring little ensemble. It DEFINITELY gets men staring, and a few men give her their numbers that night.

6) A Moonrock concert dress, for sure! It is pretty, but the sleeves give it this whimsigoth, grunge vibes. This is a dress you can vibe in, and she absolutely does. If there is a floor before the stage, she rushes it with flowers for her bestie - roses, of course.

7) A slightly more playful work dress - this would look so darling with that half-back ribbon hairstyle too. If she didn’t catch the attention of others then, she has now. She seems more confident and assured. However, judging by the way she sits on the boss’ desk and he runs his hand up and down her leg, it seems that all her attention is focused solely on one man.

8) A springtime dress practically made for dancing through fields of flowers. She def wears this with heels and a ponytails, of course, held up with a ribbon. Once the nighttime chill sets it, the dress also looks sweet beneath the jacket that Adonis drapes over her shoulders for the hand-in-hand walk home.

Polka-dots: Now THIS is a work-party dress! Maybe someone is engaged or pregnant, or someone else is retiring? Oh, or a birthday party? This dress is cute, safe for work, and really fun! I can see her pairing it with a pencil-adorned bun and a pair of glasses.

Ribbons: oh this is so fun! This feels like winery dress. All the girls dress in their prettiest, more romantic dresses and sip wine in the English countryside together, all while chatting bout work and dishing out playful gossip. 🥰

Found some pretty brownish thrifts for Connie

I know the tan one isn't as glam as her usual vibe, but I just see her in it for some reason. Might be a good, safe outfit for her first day as clerk when she starts at the bank. They could always send it to Josie to do a glam-up too.

The last one is kind of the same. Idk where she'd wear it or what for, but I see her in it. Maybe it'd be a cute beach dress?

All of these are so perfect! seriously, her in this very posh, chocolate/coffee brown is just clicking so well.

Okay, I legit adore these, so each one is getting an occasion:

This feels like a date dress for a night at a jazz club or dueling piano bar. Just sitting, drinking a nightcap and savoring the music. I want her to pair it with some wedge shoes for ultimate 90s babe vibes.

Absolutely a shopping day dress. Easily gets paired with tall boots and a messy updo. It's the perfect 'lunch then shop' look because it's breezy but still elegant.

Definitely a first-day dress for her time as a clerk! She wants to look as formal as possible. What's more classy and formal than an A-line belted dress? She does wear it with heels and some gold jewelry too! Quite a few people stare on her way up and wonder who the hell got lucky enough to get HER in their office? (She also brought a briefcase).

LOVE this for the beach! It's almost a raisin-brown shade, which is so unique. This is one where she feels comfortable enough around the Pack to be herself, so she kicks off her shoes and is like...thigh-deep in the surf, twirling and having a blast. Love this dress with her hair down nice and loose.