#like he doesn’t want to admit he cares about them because that means he has to accept the hurt if they hurt him

[ryuichirou]

Why is Ortho included in ship art? He died as a child, and although he was rebuilt, his emotional intelligence and maturity level stayed the same as that of a child. Although I fully disagree, I do want to understand your reasoning. Especially since Ortho and Idia are related and I saw your art of them kissing. I am genuinely confused.

I’ll be honest, Anon: the amount of people who message us pretending to be genuinely confused while having ill intentions are more than I care to admit, and this is very tiring; this is why I might sound a little dry in my reply. But I don’t mind explaining it if you genuinely want to understand it. That being said, let this be the last time I am ranting about this topic because there is nothing new I can say.

Here is the short answer: Ortho is included in ship art because we ship him with other characters. Ortho having a maturity level, mentality and/or intelligence of a child is a myth that contradicts canon and only exists to antagonise people who view Ortho as anything other than Idia’s baby mascot with zero agency. The fact that Idia and Ortho are related is not a reason not to ship them: shipping is fictional and doesn’t reflect one’s views on irl matters. Exploring taboo and problematic dynamics and tropes in fiction is a part of natural human experience. What I care most about in shipping is characters’ dynamic that I find fun for shipping. Their relation to each other comes second, but I won’t pretend it doesn’t exist if it does exist.

Now I’ll give you a long answer. Starting with “Ortho is a child/8-year-old/5-year-old/toddler” argument.

We actually saw real 8 yo Ortho before his death in Idia’s flashback and, wow, we can see that AI!Ortho and flashback!Ortho aren’t the same Ortho. "My largest amount of birthday data comes from eleven years ago, when I was five” is the line that Ortho says in one of his Birthday vignettes, which indicates that even though he does have memories of dead!Ortho, he is not stuck in the age of 8 – he thinks and feels that his fifth birthday happened eleven years ago.

But also just in general, if you listen to him talk and compare it to how he talked in Idia’s flashback (both the voice and the manner of speech), it becomes pretty clear that he is older. He is younger-looking and has a high-pitched voice but it’s due to the fact that Idia designed him to look that way, and there are a lot of potential reasons why he could’ve done it (all non-canon and theoretical, so we won’t dive into them today), but he is definitely not 8 years old. Ortho’s AI constantly learns new information, learns more about being a human – he is clearly maturing as the story goes, thus showing that he is in fact capable of aging mentally, and he’s been doing it from the moment Idia first created him. He is naive and inexperienced, but that doesn’t make him an infant.

Plus, post ch.6 he is always being grouped with other freshmen who are also sixteen years old. This is his age group. This is how old Ortho would’ve been if he was still alive, and this is how old AI!Ortho feels. He’s a proper first year student just like Ace, Deuce and the rest of the boys, and the story keeps highlighting it in all the events that happened post ch.6.

Speaking of post ch.6. At the end of the story AI!Ortho and real/blot!Ortho actually merged a little, as far as you can remember. Blot!Ortho, wow, is also 16. He’s been stuck in the Underworld since he was 8 and he existed all those years and grew up as well despite his terrible situation and more than unusual company, so we can safely assume his age. His merging with AI!Ortho also influenced him (AI!Ortho) in a way, making him more human as a result as well.

Not to sound mean, but I think the majority of people who still insist that Ortho is mentally 8 either don’t pay attention to his character, his story and how he interacts with others at all, or straight-up choose to believe that lie because it makes it easier to attack shippers or anyone who likes Ortho in general.

But also guess what, none of that matters actually because ultimately he is a fictional boy, and fictional characters’ ages are irrelevant. Just like fictional characters’ family relations are irrelevant. Even if you don’t think it’s right, that doesn’t change the fact that it is irrelevant, and the only thing that could be done about it is that you can block people and/or tags that make you upset. There is no shame about it: I avoid a lot of ships and tropes that make me upset.

I would prefer people to stop accusing me, a real person, of actual vile crimes (or having dark thoughts about them? What the fuck is wrong with you?) because of fictional, made-up things. If I want to, I can unrelate Ortho and Idia, and my fanart would stop being incestuous with a snap of my fingers. I can make them enemies, I can make them kill each other over and over again, I can kill Idia instead of Ortho. I say this to show how little it matters, and no, ~the implications~ don’t count. People make them up and choose to believe that instead of listening to the person in question. About a real person, let me repeat myself. You (plural/neutral you, not you, Anon) cannot make shit up about another person’s thoughts, ideas, and views just because you find it convenient.

As for why I personally ship Ortho with Idia despite them being siblings, you’re in luck because in addition to this already long post I have an even longer post for you to read if you’re interested! It’s been more than a year since I’ve written that post my reasoning is still pretty much the same, so I think it’s a pretty good one to read if you genuinely want to understand us better.

But if you don’t want to read another long post but are still interested, here is a TL;DR:

I love their deep love for each other and don’t want to just explore the platonic aspect of it – there are a lot of other scenarios that I want to play with;

there are a lot of tropes related to this ship that we love (us two against the world; AI in love; causing an apocalypse for the sake of your loved one; unhealthy and codependent relationship; obsession, etc);

their story has a lot of motifs that could be read as romantic (i.e. Orpheus and Eurydice analogy) that we really enjoy;

personal reasons; relatability (not elaborating on that; not related to incest though lol);

they’re sexy lol I love robot parts, size difference and a lot of other aspects that I won’t mention here.

I hope that explained some stuff. Just to be clear: I don’t want to force anyone ship Shroudcest, in fact I don’t care if we are the only people in the world shipping them (that will never be the case though lol). I just love Ortho very much, and I think he is a very fun character that has a lot to offer, and I really don’t like that people want to create this aura of “he’s just baby don’t touch him” that stops people for getting to know his character better. He is cunning, he is smart, he is caring, he is psychopathic, he is a lot of things, and all of those things make me want to see him bossing Idia around, acting cute around Vil, bonding with Malleus over their differences and similarities, all of those things.

[void-and-virtue]

I’m a big fan of the whole concept that Andrew actually ends up grudgingly enjoying Exy at some point, entirely because he enjoys being contrary. Like. To Andrew, denying people who think they can one-up him their success is a basic need. Riling them up for his own amusement in the process, only to make the takedown that much more humiliating when even the anger is not enough to give them an edge against his immovable presence is Andrew’s idea of self-fulfillment. Exy makes it so he’s literally getting paid millions of dollars to do that.

Kevin would be so much more successful in his pursuit to get Andrew to actually play if he stopped trying to get him to like the sport itself, and instead started to subtly market it as a professional career in being a little shit. I like to think Neil eventually figures out how to intentionally garner Andrew’s interest and starts to capitalize on his instigative tendencies to the fullest to give him incentive. Andrew plays Exy like it’s psychological warfare when he puts his mind to it. They could probably get him to run precision drills at night practice by prompting him to imagine how mad it would make people if he managed to strategically bounce balls off of his opponents’ helmets mid-game as a way to pass the ball up to Neil so that he can score. Stuff like that is actually creative, and hard to do, so the challenge becomes interesting when the reward (grim satisfaction in his own skill, his opponent being mad at him but unable to do anything about it, Neil’s smile) is worth the shot. It’s not the game itself that interests Andrew. It’s the opportunity to thoroughly mess with people and be as much of an inconvenience as humanly possible that sometimes makes playing Exy satisfying for him.

On a more serious note, there’s also something to be said about how his personal history/trauma feeds into this. Saying ‘No’ and the ability to see through that his ‘No’ is final is a very integral part of who Andrew is as a person. It’s really tangled up with Exy for him because, as Neil accurately put it, he plays Exy like he plays life.

Andrew is someone whose choice has been taken away from him far too many times in his life. The ability to choose and deny what happens to him and those under his protection is the highest good he has. Playing as the last line of defense at his level of skill quite possibly has the potential to be downright therapeutic. There’s satisfaction to be found in every goal denied, in being the best at what he does and taking control of his part in the game, if he allowed this to mean that to him. And that could factor into enjoyment of the sport as well — a quiet, subdued kind rather than loud celebration, but silent satisfaction is just as valuable as the much louder, more obvious kind. Anybody who matters can recognize happiness and contentment in him without needing him to say anything anyway.

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

man sometimes i think about life series bigb and his abandonment issues. man.

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…

Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-

He’s insulted.

You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!

It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!

Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.

His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.

You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.

Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.

When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.

On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.

Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.

Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.

And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’

And you’re like: ‘well what?’

And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’

Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.

You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’

Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’

You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.

‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘

‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’

You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’

‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.

Damian acts indifferent about it.

He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!

He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)

So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.

Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.

Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.

‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’

Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.

‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;

‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’

[klemen-tine]

No Prince Charming

(Batfam x Mom!Reader)

Anonymous asked:

Hello, I really like your work.

I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.

Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.

Sorry if it's too much.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.

It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 

Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 

A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 

“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 

Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 

But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 

“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 

As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 

Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  

Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 

Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 

She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 

“I’m sorry Richard.” 

“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 

In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 

Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 

“Bruce please.” 

“I am busy.” 

“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 

“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 

When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 

Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 

She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 

“Honey, are you happy?” 

“Of course Mama.” 

“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 

She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 

For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 

The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 

“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 

“Is that so?” 

“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 

“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 

“And the kids?” 

“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 

It's good to see some of that coming back. 

Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 

“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 

When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 

“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 

“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 

Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 

“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 

He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 

Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 

He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 

Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 

“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 

Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 

Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 

He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”

“Holy shit.” 

“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 

Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 

“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 

Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 

Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 

Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 

Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 

“Fucking hell.” 

++++

Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 

She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.

Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 

It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 

“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 

 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 

“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 

“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 

He knows this. She knows this. 

And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 

It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 

He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.

“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 

“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 

Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 

“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 

“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 

Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 

A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 

So, of course they have had sex. 

Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 

Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 

Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 

It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 

Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 

Batman was never Prince Charming.

_________________________________________________________

Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

[ragingbookdragon]

It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

[aakeysmash]

Tell me you love me

Pairing: f!reader x Sukuna Ryomen.

Word count: 2512.

Warnings: ANGSTTTTTT. An attempt at it at least lmao, let me know if I did a good job with it. A bit suggestive in the middle. Cursing. Mentions of cheating (mentions!!! No cheating in this house).

People often say that Sukuna would be obsessed with the reader/oc, but I think a relationship with him would be the hardest thing ever.

He doesn’t get the concept of being in love: at the start of your relationship he found out you were more tolerable than anyone else, he assumed that meant he liked being around you and went along with it. Of course he fell in love in the long run, but for him it’s embarrassing to admit it. He barely even said it when you asked him why he wanted you to move in with him.

It’s not like he isn’t obsessed with you: he’s obsessed with the way you just seem to get him, with the way you smile when he comes home from a long day at work, with the utmost kindness you treat people around you with and that he lacks completely. He’s mesmerised by you, by the curve of your hips, the brightness of your eyes, the softness of your hands on his body.

He doesn’t show it, though.

He’s used to being rough and redeems emotions as futile. Like he already said to you in a couple of your arguments, if you get him you get him, if not, he’s not explaining himself. Everything he does is thought of and automatically right, so why would he give you explanations?

But sometimes in relationships you need communication. He doesn’t see how intense it is to be next to someone who acts like he doesn’t care about what you want to share in your daily life. And again, he does care: if he could, he’d make a copy of you yapping and just listen to it on repeat while working. He loves how passionate you sound while talking about your hobbies, he finds the little tilt to your voice when you search for his approval adorable. He doesn’t see how difficult it is to be with him because he’s only been with you, and you’re so good at communicating and making him feel heard he doesn’t notice he’s not reciprocating your efforts.

And that means that he’s never the one who wants to resolve misunderstandings, because he thinks they don’t really exist. You were upset about your dish not coming out the way it was supposed to and instead of reassuring you it was still edible he straight up said it looked horrible and walked away? He’s not sorry. He spoke his mind, did he not? And why would you be sad about the truth?

You’re not weak, and you’re not shy either. Kind people are not necessarily stupid, and you’re living proof of that. He’d never be in a relationship with a weakling who doesn’t know how to raise her voice and stand her ground. You’re fierce in your own way, and you know how to manage his stubbornness 90% of the time. You don’t like being disrespected or ignored, and you made sure to talk his ear off whenever he did it. Not like he purposefully did it, anyway.

But as a person who understands emotions and feels emotions, sometimes being with him frustrates you. And it comes to a point where you debate on keeping being next to him or leaving him for good.

He’s not the only one who has hard days, but when both of you have one, the silence inside your house is deafening. You’re the one who usually starts up conversations, but your mind is occupied with other things. You’ve barely touched your food.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He scoffs at dinner. He doesn’t like you frowning, it wrecks his heart. It makes him want to destroy the face of whoever took the smile he lives for off your face.

You sigh. “You know how my parents said they were coming to visit us next month? Well-”

He’s silent. Fuck, when did she say this? He thinks. Probably one of those days where the thought of your thighs suffocating him all night plagued his mind last week. Fuck, he’d take a bite of them right now if you let him. Maybe he could suggest it. It could take his mind off of his own shitty day.

“Are you even listening to me?” You say sternly. He notices you kept on talking while his mind wandered, but he disregards it.

“Wanna fuck?” He asks instead.

You’re baffled. “Sukuna, what the fuck?”

“Damn, you could’ve just said no, brat,” he says rolling his eyes.

You get offended. “Don’t fucking ask me what’s wrong if you’re not going to listen to me.”

“Yeah yeah, you were probably going to talk about how worried you are and shit. I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to get my dick wet I’m going to rub one out,” he says waving his hand in front of your face and standing up from his chair.

You huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Would you prefer me to find someone else to do it for me?” He bites, snapping his head toward you.

He sees you widening your eyes. If there’s a thing you don’t tolerate is cheating, or jokes about it. He knows it. He knows it, dammit. You’re fuming.

“You’re an asshole. Fuck you. I’m sleeping at Nobara’s,” you spit at him, grabbing the purse you left on the side of the table and rushing out the door, slamming it.

When he’s left alone in your shared living room, he keeps on looking at your front door. The silence is making his head hurt, the only thing he’s hearing is the sound of the door slamming. Did he overstep? Nah, you were probably overreacting. He shrugs and finally moves from his spot, going to put his dish in the sink. He leaves yours on the table, because maybe you’ll be hungry when you come home. You usually are after an argument. You’ll come back after a couple of hours saying you didn’t want to worry him too much, you’ll sigh saying this can’t keep on happening and that you’re tired of arguing, then he’ll hug you and everything will be alright. Just like it always is. You’ve never left like this, though.

He ruffles his hair; he’s angry at everything and everyone. You should’ve got that he’s the one overreacting, why didn’t you get him like usual? Why aren’t you still back after 3 hours? He hates feeling angry. He hates feeling tired. He hates feeling in general. Most importantly, he hates that the hands in his hair are his and not yours. He hates the way right now he’s craving your soft voice reassuring him in his ear, your sweet words covering him like a blanket; his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat while lying on your couch, reminding you that you’re there. You’ve always been there. There’s no one else for him, there’s never going to be one. He’d never cheat, you’re so stupid for getting angry about it. Why did you get so mad about it? Suddenly, he’s thinking about random stuff you said that he ingrained in his head.

I love you too, Sukuna. I’ll wait for you to tell me that without me forcing it out, mh? I’ll move in with you, sure, if you ask me so that nicely.

You picked this book because it reminded you of me? Thank you, baby. I love it. Both the book and the fact you thought of me.

Can you stop messing up my sock drawer? No, I did not hide your cigarettes there. But please stop smoking, I love when you taste like my lip gloss and not that disgusting shit you inhale. Give me a kiss so I can prove it to you. I’ll take your breath away way better than tobacco.

He smirks while on the couch, alone. You’re so cute. He wants to bottle up your laugh. Why aren’t you back still? His mind doesn’t stop, though.

You hurt me, Sukuna. Why can’t you notice?

I feel like you don’t care about me.

If I hadn't come to you, would you have come to me? Or would you just have ignored this whole argument and acted like nothing happened?

Am I just filling up a random space you leave open for a significant other or am I the significant other that’s capable of filling that void?

That night he dreams of you. The way you glared at him asking him if he was serious, almost like a warning before you lashed out. He dreams of the hurt that flashed in your eyes when he spewed nonsense. And when he wakes up, you’re still not back. Your unfinished plate is still on the kitchen table.

But he’s prideful, that’s why you’re the one that’s always trying to resolve arguments. Yes, you’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You always came back during the 3 years you've been together.

A week passes by and he's going crazy. You haven't contacted him at all, and he didn't text first. He lies to himself saying it's because he's leaving you some space, but the truth is that he's scared. What is he even supposed to say? Hey, I'm sorry, I miss you, please come home? That's pathetic. He's taking a shower when suddenly his phone rings. His heart skips a beat and he rushes out to check if it's you. Please, let it be you.

Instead it's Yuji, his brother.

Yuji: Hey, what happened with y/n? She asked me to come get some of her things for her. Is she sick?

Sukuna frowns. Then he realizes that- you're going to move out. You're going to break up with him.

He goes into panic mode. He never thought about the possibility of you leaving him. He thought you would come back, like you always do. Why would you leave him? Is it because you finally realized that you're better off with someone who knows how to express their feelings for you? Did you get tired of him? Have you already found someone else?

He finds himself knocking on Nobara's door in the next ten minutes. He ran, he's sweating and it's starting to rain. He's out of breath, and he gets his hands on his knees while he waits for you to open the door. He's not ready to let you go. He can't even fathom a life where he doesn't wake up to you trying to get warm between his arms, without you nagging him while watching a film together, without helping you bake cookies while laughing with each other. Without not being able to talk from how in love he is while looking into your eyes. And he knows that if you leave him he's never going to be able to live in his own house ever again, or walk down the street you always do together, or go grocery shopping and not thinking about you while looking at vegetables. You always said you liked vegetables and he always lied about liking them just to see you excited about cooking them together.

"Yuji, I didn't think you'd be this fas- oh," you open the door and your face falls when you see it's Sukuna. He snaps his gaze toward your face when he hears your voice. He missed it so much. You're so beautiful. He missed all of you. So much.

Neither of you move, you just keep staring at each other. This time, he knows he's going to have to talk first. For the first time, he realizes how hard it actually is to confront someone first. Do you feel like this every time?

"Come home," he says. "Please," he adds.

You look sad. "I don't think I'm going to, Sukuna. It's been more than a week and you didn't even reach out to say... I don't even know what. I know you don't say sorry. You never do."

Your words feel like knives. From where you're standing you're taller than him, and he has to look up to look at you. It's like he's in front of the pearly gates of heaven and an angel is making him confess all the wrong things he did, except in this scenario you're the angel and the things he did are just what he thinks about all of this. About you in general.

And you're right, he doesn't usually say sorry. The words get stuck in his throat and he just gapes up at you, still catching his breath. Pathetic.

You sigh, then go to close the door. You don't look at him anymore and he feels like he can't breathe, and not because of the run.

"I'll come get my things next week. Go home, you'll get wet," you say. And your voice is clear, you're not mumbling, you must have thought about this. He sees how hard you're clenching your jaw to appear resolute, your nails hurting your palms from how hard you're closing your hands. But you still manage to worry about him, worry about him possibly catching a cold from the rain. And he loves you. Fuck, he loves you so much.

"Wait," he manages to say. You look at him with longing. With sorrow.

And he feels like he's crying to the angel in his afterlife when he opens his mouth again, thorns in his throat getting tighter, suffocating him. But he doesn't cry here, in front of you, even if maybe you'd like it. You'd probably say that you appreciate him showing emotions, maybe tease him for it, but you'd like it. He'd kiss you while you're still laughing, saying you're stupid, and you'd continue laughing.

"I love you," he rasps out. The words feel so unfamiliar to his tongue, but so familiar to his ears. You always tell him you love him. "I'm sorry for being a shithead. Please don't leave me. I promise you I'll get better at this communication shit," he begs.

You still don't move, but he sees you getting softer.

"Go home, Sukuna. We'll talk about it when it's not raining," you utter.

"No, I don't fucking want to," he snaps. You're startled, and he cringes. He's really not used to all of this. He doesn't like scaring you.

"Fuck, I meant to say I want to get over it right now. I didn't want to scare you. I want you back, Y/N. Please, have me back. I'll get better for real," he says while getting progressively closer to you.

"You promise?" You ask, now shorter than him. You're a step of distance from each other.

"I promise, baby. I'll make you the happiest girl to ever exist," he tells you, looking at you intensely.

"Start by saying you love me again," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest. He engulfs you in his own arms, inhaling the smell of your shampoo, then snorts.

"Sure. I'm in love with you, brat."

Being in a relationship with Sukuna is hard, but he loves you easily.

[jiniretracha]

BTS as your boyfriend

How I imagine the BTS members would act around you as your partners.

Warnings: Fluff and smut

Word Count: 4.4k

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi

KIM NAMJOON

SFW

Always keeps an eye on you: As we all know, Namjoon is one of the best leaders there is in K-Pop, and, as a good leader would, he keeps an eye on the members to check if they need anything or if they’re okay. You’re not the exception. In fact, he’ll double that attentive feeling. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s controlling you. No. He’s just simply to enamoured with you that he can’t help but worry about his girl and check on her any chance he gets. 

Asks for your opinion on how he should dress: Nam had always been pretty confident when it came to fashion, until you came along. Now, all he cares about is impressing you. He’d never admit that, though. He just wants his girl to coo at him and tell him he’s pretty. 

Asks if you had something to eat: He’ll never forget, and when I mean never forget, to send a text asking you if you’d eaten. When the answer’s yes, his chest would fill with relief and unconsciously smile, sending you praise words. If the answer’s no, he’d get a little mad, and maybe scold you a little bit, sending you those texts while he parks his car in front of a convenience store to buy something for both of you to eat.

Hugs you from behind: Nam will see you, in the kitchen, preparing some food for the both of you or just cleaning, whipping some breakfast, whatever you’re doing, and he’ll go behind you and wrap his arms around you, nuzzling his nose against the curve of your neck. 

Tries his hardest to make you smile 24/7: Kim Namjoon is a well-known people pleaser, so it is obvious that he’ll try his hardest to make you comfortable and smile every single time he has the chance. Even if it means putting himself in an uncomfortable position, he’ll selflessly put you first, because you’re his priority, and give you what you want. Because he loves you so much.

Nicknames for you: Babe, Cutie (that’s so Nam), Hon (short for honey)

NSFW

He’s a tease: As I said before, whenever he hugs you from behind, if he woke up with a hard on, he’ll press it against your ass while he mouths at the skin of your neck. “Someone woke up excited this morning” you’d say. Oh, you have no idea. In other situations, out in public, he’d put his hand on your thigh, rubbing it up and down, trying to play nonchalant. But you both know that he’s a little shit and he’s only trying to rile you up.

Favourite position: Cowgirl. Definitely. As someone who leads a boyband, being in charge can be tiring, so he’ll give up his leadership and give it to you in the bedroom. He’s not complaining though. His view from down there is heavenly. 

Aftercare: He’s a sucker for aftercare. He likes to shower you with praise words after he’s cleaned you up while he wraps his arms around you as he pulls you close to him.

Loves getting head: He won’t admit it freely, but I feel like Nam goes weak when he sees you drop to your knees in front of him to suck him off. He’ll go even weaker when you’d look up at him, giving him doe teary eyes while your tongue is wrapped around him.

KIM SEOKJIN

SFW

Teases you every single time: I mean… is it that obvious? The man’s a born teaser. I think that’s his love language. He wouldn’t act like that around anyone. He’d see you lazing around, comfortably, and he’d feel the need to pull lightly on your hair, drawing a pout from you as he smiles while leaning forward to kiss it away. 

Loves to make you laugh: The joker of the group would always try his hardest to make you laugh. He knows you love his absolutely dumb jokes and he loves that you love them. 

Saves you from embarrassment: Seokjin is a person that’s not easily embarrassed, but you are. Whenever he sees your cheeks flushed and looking away, he’ll put himself in your position and embarrass himself three times more. You fell down the stairs? Don’t worry! Jin will fall down with you and laugh about it as soon as your asses plop on the floor. You told an unfunny joke and nobody laughed? No biggie. Your boyfriend’s there to be the loudest laugh in the room. 

Holds your hand during horror movies: He’s not the biggest fan of horror movies, but he’ll suffer through them for you. He’ll hold your hand when a jumpscare comes up and soaks in the feeling of you wrapping your arms around him as you yelp in surprise. It’ll probably happen once or twice that he’ll be the one to jump on top of you because he got scared lol. 

Takes you on fishing dates: Seokjin loves fishing, we all know it. And he loves you. So why not combine the two things he loves? He’ll teach you how to pull on the fishing rod, how to stake the bait through the hook, how to store the fish once it’s already out, you name it. He’ll take any chance he gets to take pictures of you while your hair flies around everywhere with the wind and you smile mindlessly. He’s just so in love with you. 

Nicknames: Sweetheart, Girlfriend (I so imagine him going, “hey, girlfriend” and you replying, “Hey boyfriend”), Babe

NSFW:

Straight to the bedroom after he comes from tour: He’ll get back home and the first thing he does is carry you all the way to your shared bed and start pulling your clothes off. He’ll ask you how your week has been during the post-sex bath he’d run for the both of you.

Favourite position: Spooning. He’ll spoon you from behind and slip his shaft inside you, holding your hips in place while he thrusts against you, making you grasp onto the pillows tightly. He’ll whisper obscenities and kiss your neck as he fucks you hard. 

Handholding: He loves to hold your hand during intimacy. He loves to feel more than just that type of connection with you during sex. You’d feel your stomach swarming with butterflies when you feel his fingers caressing yours delicately. 

Choking: He’s definitely into it. Absolutely. He has really nice hands so he will obviously take advantage of them as he wraps his long ass fingers around your throat, applying pressure on it, eliciting long moans from you. 

MIN YOONGI

SFW: 

Tells you he loves you without words: Yoongi’s someone who has a difficult time showing affection towards others, so he’s more into showing his love with actions. He’ll see you’ve fallen asleep on the couch and he’d smile, pulling a blanket over you so that you don’t get cold. You’d wake up in your shared bed, and you’d look around, confused as to why you’ve suddenly appeared out of nowhere there. You’d walk to the kitchen and find him cooking some ramen and you’d ask, after you greet him. “I fell asleep on the couch, I think I sleepwalked to the bed and-”, “Oh no, you didn’t. I took you there. Figured you didn’t want a sore neck like last time” he said, so nonchalantly, an action that was born out of him so spontaneously. 

“Come home, Holly misses you” texts: He’ll never admit he’s missing you, so he’ll project his feelings onto the little poodle you two call your pet. You’d smirk and text back: “Be right there, honey. Don’t want Holly to miss me too much ;)” . He’ll reply with a: “Yeah, he misses you so much it’s killing him, so hurry up!”

Writes songs for you:  Our favourite producer, singer-songwriter would definitely take advantage of his muse and write endless amounts of songs about her (you). Yoongi would get shy about them but he’ll work up the courage and show them to you, because he feels you deserve to have billions of songs written about you. “You wrote a song about me?!” you’d squeal. He’d look down and hide his blush. “Yeah… it’s no big deal”. Um, yes, it is!

You’re his weakness: Yoongi is an impenetrable person. He doesn’t have any weaknesses. Until you came along. He’ll be in his studio, a frown streaked across his face, and you’d walk inside the room and a gummy smile would automatically plaster into his face. “Hi, baby!” you’d coo and he’d just blush, his face completely red but his heart would be close to jump out of his chest. On another occasion, the members would be pressuring him about going somewhere and Yoongi would shake his head. “Y/N said she’s coming” Namjoon remembers. Yoongi’s head whips up and would smile a little. “Really?” he’d murmur. His friends would not let that go. 

Craves your touch: You are the only one who’d he’d let cling all over him. In fact, he loves it. Yoongi suddenly realises he’s so freaking touch starved, he’d start to be the clingy one in the relationship. You’d be watching a movie and both of his arms are around you, bringing you comfort. 

Nicknames: Jagiya (Korean word for “baby”), Beautiful, Angel

NSFW

Mean dom: I mean… are we even surprised? He’d be pissed off about something (when is he not lol) and he’d just grab your legs, throw you into any position of his liking and start fucking you into oblivion while he holds you down. “You wanna come? You gotta earn it”. He has his soft side, of course, when he’s feeling all romantic but he’d still be the one to lead in the bedroom. 

Favourite position: Hear me out: Sitting in front of a mirror. Yeah. He’d just love to have you all spread out on your cock as he watches you, with your head pressed against his shoulder while his hands run all over your body, gripping, slapping and caressing. He wouldn’t know what to do with so much skin to touch, he’d go crazy. 

Oral lover: Mr. Tongue Technology is the best at it and he knows it. He’d plaster his face onto your core and insert his tongue, letting it work its magic, while you squirm around and clench the sheets. Yoongi would smirk into your cunt and look up at you. “How’s that, jagiya?” and your response would be a high pitched moan. 

Fingering: Yeah, with those veiny big ass hands, who wouldn’t? Yoongi doesn’t care where you two are. It could be on the plane, with all of the members in front of you, he’s sneak his hand underneath the blanket covering both of you and rub the pads of his fingers over your clothed pussy. “Yoongi… the others-“ you’d start whispering but he’d silence you with a kiss as he moves your underwear to the side and inserts his two fingers in and out, scissoring and rubbing your clit with his thumb in tight circles. Your nails would dig into his arm and hide your face into his neck, while his face would remain with the most nonchalant expression ever. 

JUNG HOSEOK

SFW

Sunshine of the relationship: Mr. Sunshine would never let you feel down. If you’re feeling like crying, he’d be the one to give you his shoulder and then, he’d take you out to your favourite restaurant, treat you with a nice meal and then take you to an ice cream parlour just to see you smile. 

Buys you loads of clothes: Hobi is someone who has an addiction to shopping, and because he’s always thinking about you, whenever he’s out to a shopping trip to the mall (which is once in a week at least), he’d probably buy more clothes for you than for him because, “Look at this dress, darling! I just pictured you wearing this dress while we have a picnic by the lake and I just had to buy it for you” he excuses himself while you were about to give him shit for spending so much on you. Of course, he uses that excuse with every single article of clothing he pulls out of the bag. 

He’d go to the gym for you: “Nooo… please, let’s just stay at home and watch Mean Girls together” he’d plead. You’d just laugh, standing with your gym bra and leggings. You had been telling Hobi about the new gym that opened up down the block and you made him promise you you’d both go and try it. “You promised me we’d go” you whined. He just looks at you and sees your puppy eyes, bottom lip out in a pouting manner. Fuck you for being so adorable. “Fine… okay. But we are ordering Kimchi and we’ll watch Mean Girls”

Café dates: I feel like Hoseok is the type of person to see a cute café and go there, no second thoughts. You two would have a list of cute cafés (kudos if it is a cat café) and every week you try one or two from the list. You two use that list as an excuse to just go out and do couples shit, because you both love spending time together. 

Gallery filled with your photos: “Yo, Hobi, there’s no space in your phone anymore” Jimin would tell him, as he had asked him for his phone to take a picture. Hobi would grab his phone, confused. As he clicked on the gallery icon, he’d see the amount of pictures in them and how 97% of them are photos of you. You on dates, asleep, with Mickey, just you. He’d look up at Jimin and shrug, sheepishly. He’s not deleting those pictures. He’ll just buy a new phone and fill it with more pictures of you. 

Nicknames: Darling, Babe, Sweetie

NSFW: 

High sex drive: Okay, so, one thing that is characteristic of sunshine personalities is the capability of having such a high amount of energy. In the bedroom, that’s not an exception. Hoseok can pull all nighters, no doubt. He’s into quickies as well, I’d say. He doesn’t matter the situation or whatever you’re wearing. Just your pretty face will turn him on and he can go anywhere, anytime. 

Favourite position: Bent over. He’ll like to bend you over any surface and just take you. He’s a hair puller for sure. Maybe a little spanking, but I don’t see him being such a huge fan of it. 

Aftercare: Like Nam, I think he considers aftercare very important and a moment where he finds a true connection with you. He finds sex is more enjoyable when there’s love shown afterwards. He wants you to know that he would never use you like that and honestly? He gets cuddly after the deed so…

Love-making Lover: Even if he enjoys fucking you hard and making you scream, lover-boy loves a good round of just romantic sex. Face to face, while his hands are everywhere, as he whispers against your neck just how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have you. 

PARK JIMIN

SFW:

Gets shy around you: He’d get all flustered when he sees you. Of course, you’d poke fun at him, baby-talking to him while he just giggles and hides his face against your neck, his face in a full red shade as you just cackle at his antics. 

Naps on your chest: Jimin would lay on your chest, face squished between your boobs and nap for hours if you’d let him. He’s never felt more comfortable than feeling your body heat, heating up through his shirt, with his arms around you, holding you close, as you card your fingers through his hair while he immediately falls into a deep slumber.

Cheek kisses: I feel like Jimin is the type of person who has his arms wrapped around you 24/7 and his mouth is always pressed against your cheek. He loves to press his nose against your cheek and whisper sweet things to you, like “You are so beautiful, my love”, “Have I told you how much I love you today?” all while he presses his thousandth kiss of the day against your cheek. And it’s only noon. 

Hides his jealousy: I don’t think Jimin would get jealous but if he sees you cozying up with somebody, he’d never tell you, because he’d hate to create unnecessary drama between you two, but he’d be a little insecure about it. Just the thought of you leaving him is enough to make him cry. You’d notice, like the best girlfriend you are, and you’d reassure him. “You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna choose you over somebody else, Chim” you’d whisper into his neck as he pretends he’s asleep (against your chest, obviously). He’d slightly smile, trying to continue pretending he’s sleeping, but he’s the happiest person on earth to hear those reassuring words. 

Sensible lover: He’s so understanding when it comes to feelings. He’d never overshadow them or push them aside, he’ll always be the most empathetic person ever and listen to you, and try to help you with all his might. Jimin also knows you like the palm of his hand so don’t even try to hide your feelings from him. He knows when you need to hit a pause and break down a little. 

Nicknames: My love (of course), lover, honey

NSFW: 

Shower sex: Jimin loves a good round of shower sex. It depends on the mood, but he can be a gentle lover or somebody who’d just press your body against the tiles and leave your legs shaking as you come while he has you hoisted up in his arms. He’ll wash you afterwards, his soft and gentle hands running the soap all over your body as he drops a few kisses over your skin. 

Favourite position: Missionary. He loves seeing your face contorted in pleasure while he kisses you with his plump lips. 

Oral for both of you: He’d be into 69 for sure. It’s not something that he’d do every day, but he knows he loves when you give him head and absolutely loves destroying your cunt with his tongue and fingers. But he’d love to have you on his face, as he inserts his tongue inside of you while you choke on his dick. 

Lots of sweet talk: I feel like Jimin is so romantic and a person that, when he falls in love, he falls hard, that he needs to voice those thoughts. So, when he’s deep inside of you, those thoughts will spill themselves. He can't help it. You feel so good and he loves you so much.

KIM TAEHYUNG

SFW:

Car drives late at night: Tae loves listening to music while driving with you, while he holds your hand or just grips your thigh, rubbing it up and down. You don’t need a destination or a reason to get the car keys and go for a drive, you both know you love each other’s company and honestly, who doesn’t love Taehyung’s sweet, deep voice as he sings along to your favourite songs. “What are you staring at?” he’d chuckle. “You” you whisper. He’d smile at you and pulls you into a sweet short kiss.

Gifting: It’s kind of like his love language. And it could be any type of gift. Two tickets to a museum (an excuse to have a date with you), a pair of earrings he saw you eyeing a few days ago, or he’d be the kind of boyfriend to restock your favourite snacks, buy your body wash, lotions or perfumes when he sees you’re running out of them. “Tae… why did you buy three boxes of perfume?” you’d ask. He’d turn around and smile, “Oh, I saw it was almost running out and thought I could get you a new one”. He’d never admit it out loud but he loves your scent and he wants to smell that perfume on you for the rest of his life. 

Facetiming: If he’s on tour, he’ll facetime in his freetime. He can’t go that long without seeing your pretty face or hearing your sweet voice he loves so much. While you rant about your day, Tae will just stare with a goofy smile at your face as he thinks how fucking lucky he is he found you. 

Flirts in front of his friends: A subtle way of telling everyone “she’s mine” is flirting shamelessly in front of everybody. He’ll have his hand on your waist and grip it tightly while he sometimes brush his hand up and down towards your ass. “Did you watch that rom-com that I recommended you last night?” one of your friends would ask, and before you could answer, Tae would say: “Nah, we were too busy last night” he’d smirk. “Ew” Hoseok would scrunch his nose while you hit his shoulder. “Hey! It’s not my fault you’re hot!”

Morning kisses: Tae would be the type of boyfriend who wakes you up giving you a full shower of kisses. He’d murmur a “Good morning, my muse” with a soft kiss to your cheek as you open your eyes, his pretty face blinding you almost. You’d immediately smile and his heart would be close to bust out of his chest. 

Nickname: Muse, baby, beautiful

NSFW

Desperate: Tae is someone who’s passionate and he’s desperate for connection. He’d be the type to throw you into the bed after quickly discarding both your clothes and fucking you raw and frantically. He loves skin-to-skin contact and it sends him into orbit how you are just as desperate for him as he is for you. 

Favourite position: All fours and riding. He loves both of them. He just can’t choose. He loves having you on his bed, with your face pressed against his sheets while your ass bounce against his hips and he grips your hair. But, as well, he loves sitting on the couch and having you giving him the ride of his life every single time. His face would be pressed against your chest as he sucks at your nipples and moans against them. 

Boob lover: Yes, of course. Taehyung would prefer boobs before ass every single time. It doesn’t need to be during a sexual innuendo to grab at your boobs, sometimes he falls asleep while his hands are filled with your boobs. But yes, he’s a man after all, and he loves gripping, twisting and sucking on your tits because he’d die a happy man between those. 

Hickeys: That’s a total yes for him. It’s another way to stake his claim on you, a way to show everyone that he’s the one responsible for that sweet assault on your neck. “Oh my God, Y/N! Who did that?” one of your friends would gasp as they tried to hide their laughter. You’d turn your head and find Taehyung with a shit-eating grin. “All me” he’d proudly state like a little shit. 

JEON JUNGKOOK

SFW: 

Cries after a fight: Jungkook is such a sensible little man and he’d be so hurt after a fight. He hates fighting in general, but what he’d hate even more is fighting with you, the love of his life. He’d regret everything as soon as it's over and immediately try to apologise, even if it wasn’t his fault to begin with. You’d feel bad as you see him almost on his knees and those doe eyes filled with tears. It’d bring you to tears yourself and the night would end up with both of you cuddled in bed as you reassure the other how much you love each other. 

Princess treatment: Absolutely. You are his little princess, and that means he gets to spoil you with gifts, carry your shoes if they make your feet hurt, piggyback rides if you’re feeling tired, dates at luxurious restaurants, you name it. 

Clingy: Jungkook’s clingy. We all know it. But who wouldn’t love it? He’d bring you with him on tour (after he’d begged and begged to his knees to the staff to let you come with him) and he’d keep you around him all the time. You’d get a little scared the members might find you annoying or overwhelming for him, as you’re always there, but they know Jungkook needs you close all the time, so they’re fine and happy for their maknae. 

Loves to see you wearing his clothes: He feels his knees get weak when he sees you wearing his shirt, as it goes past your knees while you rub your eyes from sleep. He unconsciously bites his lip while you don’t notice the way he’s lusting over you at 8 in the morning. 

Spams your phone with selfies: He’ll either steal your phone and when you grab it, you’ll find he took about 200 pictures, making silly faces or pouting cutely or he’ll just send the same amount of selfies when he’s away. He knows it annoys you but deep down he also knows you love having so many pictures of your pretty boyfriend you love so much. 

Nicknames: Princess, baby, jagiya.

NSFW

Dirty talk: He’s so into it, he’d not only whisper it, he’d just say it straight to your face, making you clench around nothing. “You wanna suck my cock, yeah?” he’d moan. “Yeah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby”. “Look at how dumb my cock is making you”

Favourite position: Against the wall. Man’s a gym-bro so he’ll obviously take advantage of that so that he can press you against the nearest wall and hammer your sweet spot, making your arousal squirt out of you with how hard he likes fucking you. 

Slapping: Are we surprised? We’ve all seen the butt obsession he has and you wouldn’t be the exception. Your ass would be red and sore by the time he’s done with you. He’d love slapping it as he fucks you from behind, when you’re doing the most mundane things like brushing your teeth, cooking or bending down to pick up a fallen object. “Hey!” you’d squeal. “Sorry, your ass looked so tempting, babe”. I think, if you’re okay with it, he’d slap your face with his palm or his cock. He loves seeing you whine when he does it and how your cheek starts turning red from the stinging. 

Biting: Jungkook likes biting a lot and loves giving you hickeys all over your body. He also loves getting bitten as well, especially his nipples. 

[lilislegacy]

In all these instances, Annabeth is going through a terribly stressful situation, and she’s not afraid to admit that she wants Percy to hold her. The only time Annabeth lets herself be truly vulnerable, and feels truly safe, is when she is in Percy’s arms.

She craves to be held by him. And that doesn’t mean she’s weak, or that he’s stronger than her, or that she relies on him to take care of her. It just means that for the first time in her life, she has a pair of arms to collapse into when she’s scared or upset. And yes, she absolutely does the same for Percy and takes care of him too, but it’s slightly different. Percy has always had his mom to love him and take care of him and hold him. Annabeth, however, had to put walls up at a young age. She learned to never rely on anybody else for safety or comfort, because she never consistently had someone loving her or taking care of her.

But now that she has that, it’s not a surprise that she yearns for his affection. Annabeth is touch-starved in a way that Percy isn’t. And she never feels more loved or more safe than she does when he is holding her. And I don’t know about you guys, but I am so happy that she has that now. Annabeth Chase is a warm, sensitive, and emotional character. And when those parts of her shine through, I think it makes her one of the most realistic characters.

For some reason, I feel like people think that Annabeth, and other female characters, have to be cold and insensitive in order to be strong. But I think that couldn’t be further from the truth! Allowing yourself to be vulnerable takes the utmost strength. Love and trust, and having someone by your side, makes people stronger, not weaker. I personally love that Annabeth lets herself be loved and comforted by her partner. Because she can be “the little spoon” and still be completely his equal. Wanting to be held and taken care of does not make someone lesser or weaker. It makes them human. (And it goes the same with men and all genders). It makes Annabeth one of the most relatable and realistic people in the series, and I love that Rick shows that side of her.

Annabeth Chase is a remarkably strong, fierce, legendary female warrior. She also craves to be held by her loving boyfriend. And those are not conflicting statements.

[saetoru]

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

[catscidr]

// how genshin men would kabedon you //

i. note — im stuck in bed because of cramps help me i wanted to be productive today but eye can't write good…… so i wrote something self indulgent silly to get my mind off of the pain instead _(´ཀ`」 ∠) _ ueue ii. cw — fluff/crack, gn!reader, suggestive if you squint rly hard, you're shorter than them in the third part for convenience's sake, not rly proofread im melting

standard kabedon with one arm ↳ alhaitham, diluc, zhongli ˎˊ˗

immediately understood what you meant when you asked if he could “kabedon” you. he either he read it about it somewhere or it’s just something he picked up from overhearing others talk about it in passing— you’d tease him for being “nosy” if you weren’t so flustered at the sight of him looking down at you with such a straight face.

your gaze travels down from his face, to his neck, to his bicep… close to you… and his forearm… that’s even closer to you… you’re so focused on his strong masculine arm that you don’t catch the slight blush tinting his cheeks.

whew. is it just you or is it getting hot in here?

standard kabedon but with both arms ↳ albedo, xiao, lyney ˎˊ˗

he either knew what a kabedon was already or you had to explain it to him and he… misunderstood a little bit.

or maybe he didn’t. maybe it was on purpose. maybe caging you in with both of his arms was what he was planning all along while you sheepishly explained what a kabedon entailed…!

or maybe he doesn’t want to admit that he zoned out while you were talking because all he thought about was how cute you looked, all flushed and embarrassed. yeah. that’s definitely not what happened. of course not

invades your personal space and backs you up into the wall without even using his arms ↳ pantalone, ayato, dottore ˎˊ˗

he pretended not to know what a was kabedon because’s he’s mean. while you tried to explain what it entailed (while sweating nervously from how hard he was staring at you), he slowly closed the distance between the two of you before you realized just how close he was.

he was taller than you, so he had to bend down at the waist to be at eye-level with you… and the action didn’t help your poor little heart. you could smell his cologne and gods did you feel your knees go weak.

but on the bright side, if your legs give out he’ll be close enough to catch you before you bust your head open! such a gentleman

forget using arms, he’ll use his leg to pin you to the wall instead ↳ itto, cyno, childe ˎˊ˗

why be like everyone else when he can show off instead? you think he might have been a bird in another life because this isn’t a kabedon, it has to be some sort of courting ritual or… something.

at least it’s working, though. your face is flushed, you’re holding back a smile and your heart is racing against your ribcage.

the only downside if that your face is buried in your hands; if it wasn’t, you’re sure your curiosity would get the better of you and you’d end up looking. don’t ask where, you know what i mean

….you kabedon him. ↳ wanderer, baizhu, neuvillette, webttore ˎˊ˗

he either straight up refused to do it or was so utterly puzzled by what on earth a “kabedon” even was that you had to show him.

cue a strained gasp, his brows either raised to the heavens or furrowed so hard he would immediately get wrinkles, and a blush that you would never let yourself forget. maybe you should do this more often.

but be careful, he might turn the tables and catch you off guard to kabedon you someday as payback. oh no! terrible, i know

[lennadanvers]

Drunks tell the truth

Rommate!Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Simon has a roommate. His roommate has a secret. Johnny has a knack for meddling in other people's business.

A/N: Hi! This ended up being way longer than I expected (3.800+ words), but it's okay because I had fun writing it. I'm not sure it went in the direction I had in mind at the beggining, but I'm not about to start all over again. If I ever feel like it, I might rewrite it, though. But it won't be soon. Also, as I was copypasting it from word, it occured to me I might need to start using dividers. If you know where I can find cute ones, please let me know. Hope you like it! <3

When he opens the door and finds the apartment silent and dark, Simon is both relieved and disappointed. On one hand, he gets to take a deep breath and let the rests of Ghost dissolve in the empty space. He doesn’t have to see you yet- you don’t have to see him yet. He still has time before you worry about all the new bruises, before he has to insist he really doesn’t want you cleaning and patching them up, before he has to suppress the shivers that always respond to your fingers on his arm.

On the other hand, Simon spent all the way from the airport picturing your eyes and your welcoming smile. It’s hard not to be a little heartbroken over the fact that you’re not home in your pajama, willing to hug him hello and make all the gunpowder disappear. He even left Soap at a bar to drink by himself, hoping to have some time alone with you. Of course, his excuse was that he was tired. Never in a million years would Simon admit out loud that seeing his roommate is the only rest he needs after months of deployment.  

As he makes his way to his room, wondering if he has time to cook something before you get home, Simon realizes his mistake. It’s Friday. Not only that, it is also dark outside: it’s Friday, and it’s late. That only means one thing: danger.

All the fatigue and relief are gone instantly. He knows the time you get off work, and it was ages ago. Even if you had stayed late, you’d be home by now. Also, your work badge is in the bowl next to the door, he checks. You definitely came back home. And then -Simon confirms with one look at the wet shower- you got ready to go out.

Now, this is not a bad thing per se. He’s glad you’re having fun, spending time with your friends and dancing. You deserve to have a good time. Simon knows your girlfriends take care of you if they need to; you’re safe.

But he’s not.

You going out means one of two outcomes: you either come back home, or you don’t. He isn’t sure which is the worst one. If you find someone and leave with them, he’ll spend the night convincing himself you’re okay and forcing his eyes closed. He’ll have to pretend his stomach doesn’t hurt, his eyes aren’t a little too red and that the sleep doesn’t come because of the jet lag.

If you do come back to sleep in the apartment, it’s worse.

See, Simon is terrified of you when you’re drunk.

As if you could smell his fear, he hears your keys jingling in the hallway. Simon must be a masochist, because he doesn’t find cover. Instead, he watches as the door opens and you appear, almost tripping over your heels. When you look up and find him staring at you, your smile shakes him to his bones.

Simon sees in slow-motion how you let your keys fall to the floor and you stagger up to him- he’s two shades of scared now, because your balance while drunk is notoriously inexistant. He gives a few hesitant steps in your direction, cautious arms extended in case you fall. Which you do. Right on his chest.

Suddenly, there’s a shortage of air. You are soft and warm. He’s big and close to having a panic attack. Your perfume has so many layers- and he can smell them all. Your hair is touching his neck, involuntary caress, and your hand is holding his bicep. That’s great: the next hundred times he’s at the gym training his ass off, he’ll be thinking of you. Exactly what he needed. As if it wasn’t enough having you haunt his dreams.

Your giggle he’s used to, but it still feels different when it vibrates so close to his ribs. Oh, and what he feels there is your chest, isn’t it? When you smile up at him, he thanks the god he doesn’t believe in that he was too frozen to hug you: it would have destroyed him.

Luckily, he manages to get a hold of himself and slowly push you away. It’s useless, though, because you take advantage of the small distance to grab his chin.

“Si! You’re home early! I missed your pretty eyes…”

He tries to force some sarcasm into his smile.

“You’re drunk.”

You laugh again, taking a step back.

“I just went to get some drinks with the girls, Mary got a promotion and…”

Still talking, you bend over to start unclasping your heels. All Simon can do is swallow, forcing his eyes to stay focused in your clumsy fingers and not in the hem of your dress- that was short to begin with, but now is probably by the middle of your ass. Definitely showing the full length of your legs. And at least, a sliver of your underwear…

No.

No, he reminds himself. Simon forces his face to stop blushing and kneels to help you take off the godforsaken heels. A quick escape from the view that will follow him to bed tonight- and the next couple thousand nights-, but a stupid move overall. Because now you’re smirking at him from above.

It’s fun, seeing his desperation. He’s such a big man, always in control of himself… Making Simon lose his cool always feels like an accomplishment. You mutter a giddy thanks, but still try to untie the ribbon around your ankle, forcing him to grab your hand to take it out of the way.

°°°

“Let me do it, okay? Or we’ll be here all night.”

You pout playfully, but let him do it. When you’re finally on your feet, you sigh and pat his shoulder. So much better. He’s now a couple feet taller than you- it’s always nice to feel comfortably small.

Without looking back, you wobble towards the bathroom. Over your humming, you can hear his steps. Usually, he’s quiet. Sometimes, though, he makes noise on purpose, to make sure you know he’s there. Based on experience, you’d say he hates to scare you.

You don’t close the door behind you. Why bother? You simply kneel to open the last drawer to grab the make up remover. Yeah, maybe the floor is a little cold and leaves your knees slightly red. It’s okay, the counter is cold too when you sit on it. Feels good, your skin is warm and you’re feeling fuzzy.

The mirror shows him looking at you from the door. His arms are crossed, tattoos at full view. Hands clenched.

Wiping your right eye, you try to soothe him.

“You’re home now. Safe. See? Just me. Relax, Simon.”

He chuckles. Sometimes he does that, too. You probably said something he finds almost funny. He relaxes against the door frame, but it still looks forced.

“Mrs. Byrne brought me cookies yesterday. They’re in the blue jar, if you want any. She got a new puppy. She’s grey, some small breed with a lot of hair. Her name is Princess. Sometimes she cries at night. I told Mrs. Byrne it’s okay, I just hope the poor puppy gets used to her new home soon, but she insisted on baking cookies for everyone in the building. I don’t think it bothers anyone, really…”

You keep yapping and Simon slowly starts to look calmer. More like he’s at home, and less like he wants to run away. You finish wiping your make-up off by carefully erasing any traces of red lipstick. It’s a shame, really, because it looks so nice. Simon seems to think so too, judging by the way his gaze caresses your reflection in the mirror.

Instead of just jumping off the counter and going to bed, you start taking your jewelry off.

“…and the café two blocks away has this new carrot muffin- that doesn’t sound tempting, I know, but it tastes so good!”

Okay, maybe you didn’t need to moan. In your defense, they are really that good. And you’re drunk, you’re allowed to have less inhibitions. Simon shifts against the doorframe.

“You need to try them. We could go tomorrow… Or, maybe you’ll want to sleep in. I bet you missed having an actual bed, huh? All warm and soft. By the way, I washed your sheets. They didn’t have our usual laundry detergent, but I got one that smells quite nice. Nothing too strong…”

Simon suppresses a groan. His sheets?

°°°

“… So you can have your beauty sleep. Not that you aren’t beautiful now, you just look tired. But dark circles never hide eyes like yours. Still, it’ll do you good to…”

Beautiful? Him? Is it too late to go back to base? Maybe if he’s a couple hundred kilometers away you won’t be able to see the way his blush makes a return, this time all the way down to his neck. It makes it even harder to not stare at your legs, that swing smoothly, skin reflecting the ceiling light.

Instead, he focuses on your hands, and the way you slide your rings off. You do it slowly, probably because it’s a task that requires a non-alcoholic level of coordination. Somehow, you can keep talking, though.

“… I mean, you are looking good. More muscles. You’re always so fit, I bet your abs are like a table… Like, all firm…”

You interrupt your yapping for a second, just to untangle one of your bracelets from the other. He pictures you eating at his table. Simon stops himself from closing the bathroom door- he isn’t sure which side he would like to stay in.

“And that hair! How come it’s so soft…? I mean, it looks soft. Can I touch it?”

One thing about you in this state is that you just do things. Invading his personal space is one of them. Usually, you just leave his body alone. You cross other lines, teasing and sarcasm being an everyday occurrence. But touching him? Not more than necessary.

Now, however, your hand is on his head. Your tiny fingers- everything is tiny next to him- are caressing his hair. He can feel your nails lightly stroking his scalp, going in gentle circles. Simon realizes he can’t move. The bathroom is not wide enough for him to step away. You’re sitting on the counter, barely leaning in his direction, but you’re everywhere.

Your perfume is in his chest, for the second time in a couple of minutes. It’s burning like his cheeks, and all he can do is stand there. Your eyes are so big and bright, how come they’re in his apartment and not up in the sky with the other stars? And your smile, it’s too round and pink for his sanity.

Not for the first time, he wonders what would happen. How would he live if he gave up and kissed you. If he was just a little brave. Not even brave enough to go for your lips, but for your cheek or your wrist. Maybe your shoulder.

But he’s not that kind of brave. He’s suicidal brave, instead. Heroic brave. The kind of brave that makes him a good soldier and a bad person. Simon is a coward, who can barely swallow a whine when you pull his hair playfully. He hides it by clearing his throat.

“I’ll tell you my beauty secrets when you’re sober enough to appreciate them. C’mon, you need to go to bed.”

Grabbing your wrist is easy. Pulling your hand away from him is the hardest thing he’s ever done. Holding your waist to help you get off the counter, easy. Taking a step away, new world record of hard.

Taking another step back, because you stepped close again; alarmingly harder.

And you step closer again. He doesn’t have the heart to step back this time. All Simon can do is hold his breath while you lean in. You stand on your toes and his hands start shaking. There it is again, your perfume. Your lips. Your smile. Oh, you’re smiling up at him. So, so close. Simon can see the look of want in his own face that’s reflected on your pupils.

“Simon?”

He means to reply, he really does. At the very least a “Yes, love?”- something gallant; something that’ll make you put your hands on his chest. Something that’ll open the door for him to grab your waist again, this time like he’s not hiding. Something that’ll bring you even closer.

Instead, he just exhales. A pathetic, pained, whiny breath. It seems to be enough of an answer for you, though.

“Si…”

He stops himself from nodding.

“You’re blocking the door.”

It takes Simon a second to process. You’re still looking at him with dreamy eyes, hair like a halo in front of the mirror light, cheeks rosy and fresh. When his stupid brain finally comes to terms with what you just said, Simon crumbles.

He throws himself to the other side of the hallway, tongue heavy with shame. It’s like his shoulders are glued to the wall, and his stomach to the floor. You don’t seem to notice, shuffling over to your room while humming the same pop song from earlier.

Sometimes, Simon is sure he must be in hell. He sure deserves it. He sees you walk away- bare feet, naked legs, messy hair- and he’s certain.

Some other times, though, he knows he’s in heaven. Shocking, because Simon doesn’t believe in heaven- and he doesn’t think he’s earned it, either way. But when things like this happen, when you pop your head out of your bedroom door to look back at him, it’s easy to pretend. It’s easy to laugh when you ask him why he’s not putting you to bed.

Simon stills himself and walks into your room. It’s tidy and warm, smells like you, and he makes a mental note to let you decorate the rest of the apartment. If he uses that as scenography for his fantasies- where he lives in your room, where you share it, where he can fall asleep in your space-, then it’s nobody’s business.

Luring Simon into your room is quite easy. Most things you do with him are easy. It makes you giggle again. It’s easy being like this, too. Open and bubbly, no mental barriers to stop you from touching him or saying whatever you happen to think. No inhibitions to forbid you from taking off your dress once you’re facing your open wardrobe.

°°°

You could swear you hear him choke. He coughs, and you ask him if he’s okay. There’s some water on your bedside table, if he wants a sip. You hear his steps. He does, great. You put on an oversized t-shirt and turn around.

His eyes are a little too wide. It’s not easy to catch him off guard: tonight is a lucky one. Simon is not the only one surprised, though- you could swear you’d left your purple vibrator on top of the bedside table, and not on the floor. Oh, well, a problem for tomorrow-you.

As you shuffle towards your bed, he steps back, putting distance between you.

“That’s my shirt.”

Sounds a bit like a question. You climb into bed.

“Nah. It’s my pajama. See?”

You look up at him from under the covers. You curl up, the sheets are cold. Luckily, his stare is hot against your face.

“…sure. Sure, it is.”

Simon doesn’t move. You blink a couple of times, before a yawn takes over.

“You’re not gonna turn the lights off?”

He hesitates. His eyes look at your bed, more than half empty. Then steps forward.

“Goodnight, then.”

Simon bends down and kisses your forehead. You’ll blame the sigh you let out on the alcohol. When he turns the lights off, becoming just a silhouette at the door, you wave your fingers at him.

“Sweet dreams, Si.”

Simon barely sleeps that night. He dreams with your forgotten heels on the bathroom floor, and your smile that looks like sunrise decided to light up his midnight.

°°°

He gives up before the actual sun comes out. His voice is so desperate when he calls Johnny, that his friend barely complains about the time. Simon warns him not to ring the doorbell- and maybe includes a little threat that Soap laughs off.

They are still chatting in the kitchen when you wake up. Luckily, you’re wearing pants now. But, by the look in your tired face, you weren’t ready to find a stranger in your house. Frowning, you mutter something like “good morning”- even though it’s closer to noon.

Johnny smiles, charming as always, and Simon squints. Before it can get too uncomfortable- for you, Soap can be uncomfortable all he wants-, he speaks. He keeps his voice low, anticipating your hungover.

“This is Johnny. Soap, this is my roommate.”

You wave at him and grab a cup. As you’re preparing your late breakfast, you start humming quietly the song from last night. It grabs Soap’s attention.

“Aye, I ken that song. Yer the lassie from last night, aren't ye?”

You freeze.

The music is loud. You yell along, grabbing one of your friend’s hands and making her do a spin. She does the same with you.

°°°

It’s a nice night. The bar started to empty some time ago- no more touchy men to bother you and your friends. It is a little hot, though, so you ask if anyone wants something to drink.

You slide up to the bar, not far from where you friends are still dancing. You need to gesture for the bartender to understand your order over the music, but he eventually nods and walks away. While you’re waiting, you feel someone stand next to you, back resting on the bar. You glance sideways- it’s a handsome man, with electric blue eyes that look at you like he’s found a pot of gold.

“Hi, bonnie. Are ye having fun?”

You smile politely and say yes. He doesn’t seem to hear it, but he understands nonetheless.

“What’s yer name? Ah’m John.”

Again, you reply. He seems nice enough- John’s not looking at your boobs or ass, so it counts as a win.

“Kin ah buy ye a drink?”

Now, he’s forcing you to decide. First option is saying yes, you can let him dance with you the next song and see where it goes. His eyes get more beautiful every second you spend looking at them, and his smile promises fun… Which leads you to option number two: saying no. He’s handsome, yes, but you don’t know him. You think about Simon. He’d scold you for considering going home with a stranger. Besides, he’d kill you if you brought him to the apartment.

Well, it’s not like he’ll find out, will he? Simon will be away for God knows how long.

You offer John your most sincere smile and a cheeky wink.

“Sorry, I don’t drink.”

Just on time, the bartender hands your bottle of water over the counter and you thank him. Without looking back, you join your girlfriends again.

It doesn’t take long for you to decide to head back home. The idea of an empty apartment is weighing on you. At least you can be sad in pajamas when you get home. As you hug your friend goodbye, you see John laughing next to a blonde at the back. Well, at least someone will have a happy night.

“Sorry, I don’t think I remember you.”

°°°

Johnny looks taken aback.

“Ah offered ye a drink, bit ye said...”

You cut him off, still not looking at them.

“Yeah, drinks. I had quite a few of those last night. I don’t remember much, sorry.”

Simon doesn’t like the way you close the cabinets, with a little too much force. Nor does your quick talking calm his nerves. Now he’s fully frowning at Johnny, who looks confused out of his mind.

Before he can keep bothering you, you grab your cup and turn around.

“Tylenol’s in the bathroom.”

His careful voice stops you in your tracks. You look guilty, almost sorry, when you offer a shy smile.

“…thanks, Si. Nice to meet you, Johnny. Sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have had that many drinks.”

Simon can barely hear your steps as you flee directly to your room. Your embarrassment, pink on your cheeks and nose, are added to the collection of things he’ll dream of every time he closes his eyes.

Next to him, Soap has a weird expression.

“Ah met her last night, she ainlie drank water. Ah swear… I watched’er all ni-”

“Shut up, Johnny.”

He doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t need to.

He’s worried you’ll hear Johnny’s annoyingly loud voice from your room. You’re innocent enough to think you can fool him. And Simon doesn’t have the guts to let you know that he knows just yet. There’s a reason he doesn’t say anything about the way you smell whenever you come home from the bar- all nice perfume and zero alcohol-, or how he knows you didn’t take any Tylenol. A reason why Simon lets you pretend to be drunk, grab his hair and smile at him. A reason why he himself pretends to believe you.

And he’s not going to let Johnny spoil figure that one out just yet.

[battlekidx2]

Alastor Episodes 7 and 8 Thoughts

These two episodes really gave us a lot in regards to Alastor and I cannot wait to see where they go with him in season 2. What I find most fascinating about what they established with him in these episodes is how I think this perfectly sets up Alastor to directly challenge the show’s main themes of redemption.

Alastor is the only character in the main cast that I think could effectively challenge Charlie’s idea of redemption by making her face the question of “where the line for who can be redeemed and who is too far gone is?” 

Even Vaggie and her past as an exorcist couldn’t challenge Charlie’s ideals in the same way because Vaggie so clearly wants to be better and is trying to be better. She could only challenge Charlie’s idea of who could be redeemed. She couldn’t truly challenge the line of when someone is too far gone unlike Alastor. 

And to explain this I'll just jump right in.

It’s clear these two episodes were meant to show a shift in Alastor and Charlie’s relationship in some capacity. It’s a bit more of a subtle shift than with the other characters, but I think it’s setting up this future conflict well for the limited time the show has. 

At the start Charlie doesn’t think Alastor cares and calls him out on this. She directly states that she believes he enjoys the suffering. He refutes her idea of him by stating she doesn’t know what he feels. He purposefully hides his feelings behind a smile as a sign of control. (The first shift. It tells her there’s more beneath the surface)

Then Alastor helps Charlie enlist cannibal town and says he wants to mentor her in the song. This is more than the initial indifference and humor he got out of Charlie at the beginning. There’s an interest in seeing Charlie grow and being a part of it that wasn't there before. And, with Alastor helping Charlie here, trust is being built (at least on Charlie's end).

Then Alastor talks to Niffty (who he is clearly fond of) and admits he finds the group enjoyable to be around. He says he could grow accustomed to them after Niffty says she really likes them almost in agreement with her. He's very candid with Niffty and doesn't seem to feel the need to hide his emotions around her. They appear to be on the same wavelength.

And finally, Charlie is upset when she thinks that Alastor died against Adam and hugs him happily when he returns. In Charlie’s eyes Alastor has been helpful and risked himself and his power to protect the hotel. This is a true shift in their relationship on Charlie's end.

This bond is necessary because if (at the very least) Charlie doesn't care about Alastor then he won't be able to truly challenge her idea of redemption and the show implies it doesn't just go one way. It's just obscured.

To explain what I mean I want to look at Alastor's role in the final battle and that moment when he is alone after he escapes.

At the beginning of the battle he felt like the trump card he should have been. He makes the exorcists, before Adam destroys his shield, look like a joke. And he gives Adam a run for his money before he becomes overconfident and lets his guard down. He didn’t expect Adam to bounce back and have that much power left to show. He was caught completely off guard and paid the price. 

And instead of staying to face the end with the rest of the people in the hotel Alastor opts to save himself. He places himself first. When he leaves he seems almost smug, spouting off a one liner and smiling as he sinks into the shadows. It seems calculated and calm, but alone is a completely different story. This moment shakes Alastor and that moment alone puts his fight against Adam and decision to flee in a different light.

In this moment when he's alone he starts to lose it, saying there has to be a way out. This isn’t where things end. He will come out on top. 

He can feel his control over the situation slipping. His power and notoriety has been challenged left and right this season. First Vox, then Lucifer, then the loan sharks, now Adam. It’s one right after the other. And Adam almost killed him.

He’s struggling to grasp onto what little control he has left by forcing himself to keep on his smile and it calls back to the beginning of episode 7 when he says to Charlie that just because she sees a smile doesn't mean she knows how he really feels. His smile is a sign of control. And even in this moment you can see that last bit of control slipping. And it’s left him even more desperate for his freedom than before.

The Radio Demon was introduced almost as if he was an all powerful entity and now he is being brought back down to earth and he’s raging against it, barely keeping it just below the surface. 

But there’s even more to his breakdown than just his pride. The lines “Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends. Sorry to disappoint that is not where this ends. I’m hungry for freedom like never before. The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor.” strongly imply that he really does care for the residents of the hotel more than he wants to admit even to himself.

He is freaking out because he got too close to dying trying to protect and help people that he never thought he would care at all about and he’s doubling down on his plans from before. 

His immediate desperation to be free implies he is at the hotel because he is forced to be there, but he’s desperate to get out of the contract because he doesn’t like how it’s changing him. Alastor has always put himself first and here he is almost dying trying to protect this hotel and it's rattled him even more deeply than the blow to his pride.

I feel like they know exactly what Alastor can mean thematically and they want you to know he’s a villain while seeding hints there could be change under the surface (ones that Alastor himself is afraid of and wants to double down against). There’s a balancing act going on with him and it seems they really do want to challenge the idea of redemption with him. Not just Charlie’s, but his own as well.

Alastor is still in my opinion the best written character in the series. There’s just so much to unravel with him and he’s the most fun to try and dissect to me. I can’t wait to see what they have planned for him in season 2.

[cinnasweetss]

rickenbacker (p.sh)

synopsis: sunghoon wants to get his hands on the popular indie band's guitarist at his uni. might come with some sacrifices though.

or the one where sunghoon betrays his friend for pussy (deserved!)

genre: smut, pw minimal plot.

characters: guitarist!reader, loser!sunghoon, mean!hyung line

wc: 3.6k

(content under cut)

content: bullying, homie hopping, betrayal, slight voyerism if u squint, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, sunghoon doesn’t believe in pulling out, dirty talking, minimal plot, etc etc

sunghoon first sees you at your university's summer festival. 

he meets you three weeks later when youre accompanied by heeseung. not exactly on his arm, but its rare to see him with a girl he hasn't slept with. 

sunghoon develops his newfound attraction to you then. when he sees you off stage, away from the big lights and loud music played by your guitar. sure you were pretty up there too, but up close, god. he can feel his heart thump in his chest the moment you step inside the room with your bandmates. 

he's heard the rumours, that the all-woman band in his university has a knack for attaching themselves to one male friend group a month. thanks to heeseung, he guesses, it's their turn now. 

there's four of them, and only one of you. plus the two other girls you came in with, who seem to have drifted right over to Jay and Jake. it doesn't bother him, really. he can pay way more attention to you without having to entertain some girls. he's quickly pulled from it though, when heeseung nudges him with his foot, "Dude, get the beers." 

It's embarrassing when you snicker, vampishly nudging his shoulder with an overly drawn out "Don't be so mean, hee." after sunghoon finally makes himself useful. 

He sets the cans on the table, watching as multiple hands reach out to grab them until the table is cleared. "You don't drink?" Your voice rings in his ears, coated with disappointment as you watch him shake his head. "He's always been like that, don't mind him."

.....

Sunghoon knows he shouldn't be letting the six of you treat him like this. making him store-run with his own money, ordering him around, expecting him to buy dinner everytime the seven of you go out. 

he only does it so he can glimpse at you every now and again. wants to get the most out of these last two weeks he probably has with you before you run off with another group of guys. even when he catches you talking about exactly who that next group is. 

You sent him out to buy you a pack of cigarettes just down the block as the other five bullshit around at the bar. He finds you outside, cigarette tucked between two fingers adorned with white nails. "Thanks, hoon" you really have to admit, this is a new dynamic. whenever you and your bandmates attach to a group of guys that outnumber you, the ones who aren't picked seem to fuck off. 

sunghoon either doesnt care, or enjoys being the groups water boy. either way, it's fucking weird having him constantly hovering around. "Sit next to me." You invite, scooting over and patting the area beside you. Of course he listens, sitting without a word.

you have to admit, you haven't heard him say anything other then small phrases. you don't even know if he's able to hold a conversation if you tried. 

"you're pretty quiet...are you always like this?"

That feels like a knife in the chest. he so badly wants to say no, that it's only like this because the six of you are too busy obsessing over each other to know he's even there. but he knows that's not true. he knows he's heard that too many times for it to not be true. "Yeah, kinda." It leaves him in a mumble, prompting you to shift your body to his to hear him better. over the sound of music from the bar and the sound of cars zooming by. 

"I've got another friend, do you want to meet her?" 

you don't mean harm by it, you're just curious if this is actually how he is, or if he's only acting this way because his friends are excluding him. which, you are too, but you can only handle one guy at a time. based off experience. 

"I'm fine, thanks." it's another mumble you can barely make out, but you know he's declining by the way he doesnt even look at you. 

he'd have a greater chance at being picked if he took those glasses off, put some bass in his voice and told his friends "no" once in awhile. 

you quickly decide it isn't your job to fix this man, and decide to leave to the next girl who comes around. hopefully she comes quickly enough for him to enjoy his youth. "I'll see you inside."

that leaves sunghoon with his thoughts. with the realisation that his first and likely last conversation with you went to shit just because he can't communicate properly. 

he can't help that you intimidate him. maybe its the fact that he knows that youre unreachable despite almost always being a few feet away from him. you're the same on and off stage, too high for him to reach. too pretty to even think of him the same way you think of heeseung. 

"Fuck!" it all settles into anger, resulting in an outburst louder than he'd like. it takes him a few minutes before he decides to join the group, eyes settling on you and heeseung tucked away in a booth together. 

.....

youre not sure what exactly made you change your mind. 

Maybe the fact that heeseung is boring the shit out of you, his head sucks, he doesn't really care about getting you off, or maybe sunghoon is just that much more interesting because of heeseungs recent performance. 

maybe its the fact that sunghoon isn't one of the men screaming and shouting so loud you can barely hear the notes from your own guitar. the fact that he's tucked behind heeseung in the crowd, though his eyes are still seemingly stuck on you. doesnt even seem like he's listening, he's just staring. observing from afar. 

two nights ago is what really solidified it for you. when heeseung rolled over after cumming once. without even thinking about trying to get you off, even when you pulled the "im gonna cum" line to get him to keep going. it wasn't hard to begin thinking about someone else. thinking about the boy who doesnt say much, barely says anything at all. is completely unreadable, and has no people skills whatsoever.

you haven't said much to heeseung. short texts since then. instead you've made plans to see sunghoon. away from his friend group. 

sunghoon is too thrilled to receive a text from you that Friday night almost immediately after your performance.he's supposed to be running to the store for heeseung, grabbing beers and shit for the guys- what the fuck ever. they're gonna turn into a beer if they keep drinking like that.

he doesnt even think twice. you don't even think twice, sending the location of your studio before he can even respond. 

it takes him virtually no time to wander off, shoving away Jay when he tells him he's going in the absolute wrong direction. that the store is that way, not that way. his eyes darting around to find the building your studio is inside of. 

its not hard for him to find a door with the name of your band plastered right in-front of it. unlocked. 

you're tucked against the wall when he comes in, those same prettily manicured hands that often hold a cigarette, strumming at the strings of your blue guitar that sits on your lap. still in the same outfit you wore onstage, making this all the more surreal. 

the soft click of the door is what pulls you from it. "Lock it, yeah?" Sunghoon can barely hear you over the loud thumping in his chest, still he manages to do just that. awaiting another order from you. "You can sit. There." the way he moves is awkward, eyes moving around the room, looking at anything but you once he finally sits. 

you move your guitar from your lap, joining sunghoon on the leather couch. so close your shoulder brushes against his. "Did you like it? the song, I mean..."

sunghoon only nods, eyes still avoiding yours. "You can talk to me, you know. I don't bite..." he doesn't shy away when you reach out to touch his arm. 

usually a guy would gush about how sexy you look on stage, ask to touch your guitar, ask you to teach them a few chords. you don't expect him to fall for the bait, nor notice your attempts at flirting. 

your only other option is to not beat around the bush, tell him exactly what you what from him. "I called you here 'cause I wanted to tell you liked you, hoonie." wasn't at all what he was expecting to hear from you next, not when its well known that you're with heeseung. 

"You like me too, right? that's why you stick around even though you don't have to." you have no evidence to back this up, might even be super far fetched, but its worth a try. "Yeah, but, you've got heeseung." not too far fetched it seems, "But I want you, hoon." you quickly shake your head,   leaning your upper body against his shoulder. 

sunghoons got a million things going through his head at once. the fact that if he does anything with you he'd be betraying a long time friend, him being so incredibly turned on beyond belief just because you've got your tits in his hands, almost. the visual of you leaning in to kiss him right now, not knowing whether or not to kiss you back or push you away when you finally do. 

you think he's going to. going to push you away and take the side of his friend that wouldnt think twice about doing this with you if the roles were reversed. he's continuously proved you wrong though, wrapping his arms right around your waist. 

he'd be absolutely stupid to not kiss you back. he can't believe he even thought about rejecting you. cant believe he thought about sparing heeseungs feelings. 

the incessant ringing in his pocket forces you two away, a soft "Sorry..." leaving him as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

speak of the devil. 

"What the fuck, you left thirty minutes ago dude!", "hurry the fuck up, seriously." 

you can't stand to hear that asshole yelling at him over the phone. he thinks he's hot shit just because he's the oldest and they all listen to whatever he asks. "Don't let him talk to you like that, hoonie..." It's low enough for sunghoon to hear only, "stick up for yourself, hm?"

Sunghoon would rather shoot himself in the foot than look like a fucking loser infront of you. your hand rubs encouraging circles against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. "Get it yourself. I'm busy." he makes sure it's firm, just so you know that he is standing up for himself. "What?! No, I told you to do it. that means do it now. not when you feel like it." 

"You didnt fucking hear me? I said I'm busy. Tell Jay to get off his ass and do it for you." you can't lie, that sounds so hot coming from him. it puts a smile on your face, only because you knew he had it in him. even if it did take a little encouragement from you. "Hang up." this time you make sure your words are loud enough to go through that speaker, making sure heeseung hears you. 

"Who are you with?"

With heeseung in his ear, and you practically on his lap and pressing kisses against his cheek, it's clear he needs to get off the phone. "Don't worry about it. It's not your fucking business." it's just as harsh as his words before, and yet all heeseung can say is "Who the fuck are you with, sunghoon?!" 

he knows exactly who he's with. that goes without saying, especially when you whine a "Pay attention to me, hoon..." right. into. the mic. 

you both can hear heeseung go absolutely ballistic as you push the phone away from sunghoon's ear, cupping his face so you can finally get back to kissing him. you're sure heeseung got a earful of heavy breaths and kisses before you finally make sure the call disconnects. 

Sunghoons new found confidence comes with a bit of dominance to it seems, leading the kiss even when you straddle him and immediately grind against him. his hands instinctively move to hold your hips, only cause he wants to seriously focus on kissing you for awhile. wants to enjoy the taste of your lipgloss after he pushes his tongue past your lips. 

neither of you can really do that though, not when you're both pulling at each others clothing at the same time. you want his pants off to see what he's working with, and he wants a tit in his mouth. your hands are constantly fumbling around each other, so much that you pull away with a laugh. you quickly pull your shirt off, tossing it to the side. 

he's got an eyeful of your tits in your cheetah print bra, and an even bigger one when you reach behind your back to take it off. he's practically drooling, mouth hung open, focused right on the metal that runs through each nipple. 

"holy shit." 

he nearly cums right then and there. maybe he does, he's not too sure, wouldnt be surprised if he did. especially because when he does get a tit in his mouth, its absolutely euphoric. coldness of the metal pressed right against his tongue, grazing his teeth. your other tit sits perfectly in his hand that's switching between groping, and tugging right on your sensitive nipple.

your hands are fumbling under his shirt, trying to unbuckle his belt so you can stick hand in his pants just to cop a feel. a soft "Can I eat you out?" stops you. how can you ever say no to such a request?

You nearly fall trying to get off of him quickly so he can find a spot between your legs. suddenly the size of his dick doesnt matter, as long as he's good at this. which, he quickly proves that he is. doesnt even bother taking off your panties, nor your skirt for that matter. he just flips it up and pushes your panties to the side.

your jaw falls open, hands immediately reaching for the head between your legs. the feeling his tongue brings is pure bliss. he knows exactly where the clit is, when to switch from licking to sucking, when to push two fingers inside and- "Fuck!" he's just barely started, yet you're already this much of a mess. 

its not his fault he can't stop mouthing away at your cunt, moaning each time his tongue flicks against your clit. you just taste so good, no matter how much he licks away at you, it isn't nearly enough to satiate him. he has to pull away, take those damned glasses off his face so he can bury himself deeper between your legs. 

His fingers plunging in and out of you to match the rhythm and speed of his tongue only tighten that coil in your stomach. if he manages to make you cum from this, you'll be keeping him a lot longer than usual. especially because he seems to be enjoying this just as much as you do. moaning each time your hands tug on his hair and you grind against his lips. 

You're unable to stop the plethora of sounds that leave you with each flick of his tongue and movement of his fingers. it's no surprise that you're just minutes away from succumbing to your orgasm."Don't stop!" Sunghoon doesn't dare think of stopping, keeps his pace steady as he eases that orgasm right from you. his eyes lock right on your face, watching as your brows furrow and your face contorts beautifully after your "I'm cumming!" he eats you through it and then some, until you stop squirming, and your grip loosens on his hair. 

You genuinely believe you've seen god, that he told you to never ever settle for anything other than this. Sunghoon emerging from your legs with the same fingers that were previously inside of you now tucked between his lips, makes you wonder if he's god with the way he just sucked your soul right out of you.

you watch as he undresses himself. unveiling a surprisingly built figure you didn't know he had. and the fact that he's hung on top of all that. can't deny, you can't wait to figure out of he's as good with his dick as he is his mouth. 

neither of you think twice about a condom, not when he climbs on top of you and kisses you again. you'd be fine with just this, honestly. just kissing him all night. "Ready?"

you think its really cute that he asks, not saying the bar is in hell, but its still a nice gesture. you smile up at him, a soft "yeah" and a head nod is all it takes. he shoves a hand between your bodies, lining himself up with your entrance.

you wince as he slides in, sunghoon watching intensely for any other obvious signs of discomfort. his jaw falls open, forehead pressed against yours once he finally bottoms out. he gives you a second before his hips retract and slow meet yours once again. you're relieved he doesnt immediately begin to pounce on you, as this is enough to have you clawing at his forearms. 

youre just so tight, sucking him right back in anytime he pulls away. the constant clenching and trembling of your walls around him is enough to have him cum just from these very soft and cautious movements of his.

his lips find yours again, kissing through the next few thrusts in which he goes impossibly deeper, and quicker. "Fuck, you're so wet..." those words force a moan out of you that you didnt know you were holding. "Pussy's creamin' already." so not only does he know exactly what he's doing, he's talking you through it too. 

you'd be satisfied if today was your last day on earth. if you died right here, right after hearing those words leave his mouth. you had no idea he had all this in him. that he was even the type, honestly. you know what they say about the quiet ones though.

you don't even have to tell him faster, its like he's reading your fucking mind. like he's became one with you so he knows exactly what to do and when to do it. its the first time you haven't had to coach a man through the entire thing. that is, if you want to get off. you'll be damned if you let this one get away. 

"holy shit" he moans above you, forcing your legs over his shoulders so he can fuck deeper. you cant squirm like this either, forcing you to lay and take every single inch he's giving you. it doesnt matter how hard you push at his hips so he can take maybe an inch or two out of you, he's unrelenting. 

"Hoon!" you shout, hands grabbing at the soft leather below you one you realize he's not stopping anytime soon. his thrusts are quick and short, sharp. the sound of skin slapping, moans, and the like fill the studio. more vulgar words and praises leave him, only adding to the overwhelming pleasure youre receiving from him. "Gonna keep fucking this pussy open till you stop squirming." 

to be loved is to be heard. to be loved is to be seen. to be loved is to be fucked. hard. 

"Sunghoon!" your breath quickens, heart thumps in your chest when you realise he's almost fucked you into another orgasm. there's no need to say it, he knows after observing you just once. 

" 's so big, 's too big!" you're either gonna cum so hard you pass out, or he's gonna split you right in half. either one. you'll be fine with both, really. 

the fine details are irrelevant, what matters is the absolute euphoria your walls give. his balls are so heavy and full, aching to finally release a load. he's almost there, right with you. insisting, telling you that you're gonna keep taking him until you finish. not before. 

"Hoon, i'm-" it's incredible when you finally do. your walls contract so hard, your body convulses, a string of loudly drawn out sounds of ecstasy leave you before you're even able to tell him. 

you swear you're ascending, cumming so hard you can't even hear sunghoon coax you through it. it's the first time you ever have tap out. having to beg him to stop for just a second. you're just so overwhelmed. 

he does, kissing your chest soothingly, though not for long. he does give you a second. one second and then he's back at it again. chasing his own high. "I'm gonna cum. Holy shit." 

his hips come to a hard halt. slamming into your hips one more time as he fucks his cum right into you. "Fuck!" it vocalizes in a jumble of moans, heavy breaths, and one tight grip on your hips. 

he collapses ontop of you thereafter, pulling himself out of you with a hiss. his face nuzzles in your neck, leaving soft kisses there. it's almost no surprise that he's ready for round two minutes after.  lifting himself off of you with a big dorky smile, and "Can we go again?" 

heeseung hyung i'm gonna fuck you up for this.  11:42pm

[luvnami]

i wanna pluck his brows

“what are you doing?”

you’re currently wearing a kuromi headband and an under eye mask. your posture is abhorrent as you peer into your bathroom mirror, tweezing away at your eyebrows. you squint your eyes and pluck out a singular, stray hair. 

“plucking my brows,” you reply to your husband without even batting an eye. 

ushijima doesn’t say anything. he watches silently as you tweeze out your eyebrow hairs and line them up neatly on a piece of toilet paper. he’s grown used to you and your self-care habits, be it the guasha routine you have in the morning or the terrifying red-light mask you don at night. one time, ushijima was so scared by that same mask because all the bedroom lights were switched off and he thought the devil had come for him. you barely avoided being hit in the face with his mean left hook. 

it’s not like ushijima doesn’t take care of his appearance. he had a minimal skincare routine of actual face wash (not bar soap!) and some moisturiser, but anything beyond that was unknown territory. you helped out with organising a simple schedule for masks, retinol, exfoliation, and sunscreen. he likes it when you help him do his skincare, soft fingers working the product into his skin. 

“do you want to pluck my eyebrows too?” ushijima offers. 

now, you turn to look at him. kuromi’s ears wiggle with your movement. behind on the counter is ushijima’s own corner where he keeps his skincare and razors neatly organised, his matching cinnamoroll headband neatly atop everything else. 

“are you sure? it hurts, toshi. i could do it for you if you want, though.”

ushijima wakatoshi is a strong man. he can deadlift about 200kg, he’s 192.7cm tall, and has played in the olympics before. surely he can handle some eyebrow tweezing. 

ushijima insists because he always wants to share experiences with you, even in the most mundane of things, so you concede because you do want to see him react to having his eyebrows plucked. he helps you sit on the bathroom counter and stands close enough that your knees brush against his abdomen. he places his palms on either side of your thighs, kissing your hairline affectionately. 

you take your time to comb out ushijima’s eyebrows with a spoolie. he’s blessed with rather thick brows and a nice, gentle arch, but you spot multiple stray hairs near his tails.

“i’ll just help you clean up the shape, okay? let me know if it hurts. i’ll start with this side.”

ushijima hums and closes his eyes as you place your thumb under his eyebrow to keep the skin taut. your tweezers find their target, and you pluck the offending hair out of his skin. 

ushijima jumps. his eyes are watering as they fly open, his brown bone stinging with pain. he doesn’t want to admit that his asshole just clenched. you stifle your laughter at his bewildered expression.

“toshi? are you okay?” you soothe. 

you kiss his brow. 

“how many more do you have to do?” he asks, deadpan. 

“mmm… maybe twenty on each side?” 

he pales. alas, ushijima wakatoshi is not a man who backs down from anything, even the most butthole-clenching pain of eyebrow plucking. he squeezes his eyes shut and lets you continue. 

the next day, he shows up to the olympics team training with neat eyebrows. kageyama stops mid-step to stare at him and even tilts his head to the side.

“you look different, ushijima-san.”

“do i?”

ushijima takes a sip from his bottle. 

bokuto gasps loudly. “woah! you’re like, ten times more handsome today, ushiwaka!” 

ushijima thinks of you, giggling as he furrowed his face in pain last night, determined to make it to the end of his eyebrow torture. you kissed him every single time you plucked a single hair. a small smile replaces the stoic expression on his face.

“thank you. my wife plucked my eyebrows for me.”