#that this is my feelings and they are bad

[yueebby]

steal my girl — gojo satoru

synopsis. the time gojo and megumi decided to crash your date.

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo roping megumi into his loser activities, timeskips, tw sappy

notes. this drabble has been rotting in my brain for over a year. finally wrote it!

“I’m going on a date.”

It only took five simple words from you to make the world’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer drop to his knees. For the first time in his life, Gojo could swear he was experiencing shortness of breath. And was it just him, or were the walls closing in?

“What?” The word leaves his mouth like a demand rather than a question. He’s trying so hard not to overreact, but your overjoyed face makes it nearly impossible not to succumb to the ugly green monster clawing at his insides.

“Well,” you push his shoulder playfully. “Don’t act so surprised. You’re not the only one that pulls.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gojo mutters under his breath, eye twitching. Don’t you know how hard he works to deter any suitors vying for your attention when the two of you are out? He’s practically a rabid dog growling at anyone who so much as breathes in your direction.

Hell, even Shoko once mentioned to him something about being a “registered pervert” at most establishments you frequent together.

 Not his finest moments.

You eye Satoru suspiciously before continuing. That was your first mistake.

“Yeah, he’s taking me to that new Michelin Star restaurant downtown,” you sigh dreamily. “I mean, seriously. Isn’t that so cool?”

Gojo scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “If that’s what you wanted, you could’ve just said so. I know a place that has three Michelin Stars.”

You pout. “Well, it’s different with you.”

Gojo’s eyebrow quirks up. “How so?”

“You’re a friend. And with him��” You trail off, suddenly feeling shy under Gojo’s piercing gaze. Heat creeps up your neck, blooming across your cheeks as you toy with the hem of your sleeve. “It’s a lot more romantic.”

Gojo thinks he could just die.

The word romantic rings in his ears, and it was deafening. It digs into his ribs and squeezes at something raw inside him. He’s the strongest sorcerer alive, yet right now, he feels utterly powerless against the way your voice softens when you talk about someone else. Against the way your lips curve at the thought of another man.

He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Romantic, huh?” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge to it.

You nod, eyes glimmering with something dreamy, something distant, and Gojo wants to reach out and wipe it away. He wants that look—wants to be the reason for it.

If you wanted romance, he could give you romance.

Better romance.

A grand plan manifests in his head, spinning to life at full speed. 

Oh, this poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.

The moment Megumi sees Gojo enter his and Tsumiki’s shared apartment, he knows something is wrong. There’s a certain energy in the air, a distinct lack of peace that Gojo drags with him that makes the eight year old’s stomach churn.

“Fushiguro!” Gojo’s voice rings out, far too enthusiastic for Megumi’s liking. “We have a problem.”

Megumi barely glances up from his book. “We?”

Gojo makes himself at home and slings an arm around his shoulders. “Yes, we. Our dear [Name] here has a date.”

Megumi's grip on his book tightens, his interest sparking at the mention of you. Where Gojo lacked maturity, you balanced it effortlessly. He liked that about you. He liked you.

Megumi blinks once. “And?”

Gojo sighs dramatically. “And we can’t just let her go unprotected, can we?”

“Unprotected?” Megumi repeats, deadpan. “From what? Bad table manners?”

“From heartbreak, Megumi!” Gojo places a hand over his chest, looking scandalized. “What if this guy is a total loser? What if he chews with his mouth open? What if he’s a handsy creep?”

Megumi’s expression darkens. He had been indifferent before, but now there’s a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He doesn’t like the idea of you being stuck with some no-good scrub who isn’t worthy. In a series of twisted events, you and that white haired idiot had managed to become the only constants in his life. The last thing he wanted was for some random guy to come along and take you away.

“We need to intervene,” Gojo presses, watching the flicker of hesitation in Megumi’s expression. His usual deadpan exterior is cracking, just a little. Gojo knows he has him.

Megumi exhales sharply, gripping his book a little too tightly. “I am not going to ruin their date.” His voice is firm, but there’s a sliver of doubt wedged between the words. Gojo seizes it like a cat pouncing on its prey.

“Ruin?” Gojo gasps, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “Megumi, this is purely a background check.” His grin stretches.

Megumi glares at him. “It could be considered stalking.”

Gojo waves him off. “Pfft. Such an ugly word. I prefer ‘protective oversight’.”

“You don’t even know if he’s a bad person.”

Gojo tilts his head, feigning deep thought. “Oh, you’re right. Maybe he’s perfect. Maybe he’ll take such good care of her that we won’t be needed anymore.”

Megumi stiffens, and Gojo bites back a smirk.

“That’s not—” Megumi starts, but Gojo steamrolls over him.

“I mean, think about it. If this date goes well, they might actually start dating. And then what? She’ll start spending more time with him.” Gojo nudges him. “She’ll run off and start a new family.”

Megumi’s jaw tightens. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously right,” Gojo corrects cheerfully. 

Megumi runs a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. He already knows Gojo won’t drop this, and, annoyingly, he’s already planted the seed of doubt in his mind.

Gojo leans in, voice lower, almost serious. “You care about her, don’t you?”

Megumi exhales sharply. “...Yeah.”

“And you’d rather make sure she’s safe than sit around wondering?”

Megumi stares at him for a long moment, then groans. “Fine. But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

Gojo grins, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s go before you start growing a conscience.”

The night was supposed to be perfect. A well earned break. It your first real date in a while. Probably your first since meeting Gojo. Though, strangely, you’d never stopped to question why that was.

The guy sitting across from you was a non-sorcerer, and while his looks had been enough to catch your attention when he first asked you out, the novelty was wearing off fast. His personality was as flat and each word he spoke draining more of your enthusiasm. You found yourself nodding along absently, barely listening, already regretting your decision.

Still, you just had to stick it out until the food arrived. Then you could eat, make an excuse, and be done with this painfully dull evening.

Though, just when you thought the night was starting to get interesting, a familiar voice cuts through the elegant ambiance of the restaurant.

“Mom, who is this strange man?”

Your choke on your wine at the familiar voice while your date stiffens.

You turn slowly, dread pooling in your stomach as you come face-to-face with Megumi, standing at your table with his arms crossed. His expression is perfectly deadpan, but you see the flicker of mischief in his eyes, a familiar gleam of mischief that could only be the work of a certain white-haired man lurking nearby.

“E-eh?!” You sputter, glancing between Megumi and your date.

Your date looks thoroughly confused. “Do you… know this child?”

“N-no—I mean, yes, but—”

Megumi doesn’t give you a chance to explain. Instead, he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “And what will Gojo—Dad—say about this?”

The words slam into you like a truck.

Your date’s jaw drops. “You’re married?”

“N-no!”

“Then why is he calling you Mom?”

You glare at Megumi, but he just shrugs, completely unbothered.

“Come home,” Megumi continues with a sigh. “Tsumiki misses you too.”

“You have multiple children?!”

Your date looks absolutely horrified, like he’s just found himself in the middle of a scandalous affair. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Listen, if you’re going through a divorce or something, we don’t have to do this—”

Before you can defend yourself, another, far-too-cheerful voice joins in.

“There you are, sweetheart!”

Gojo waltzes up to the table, dressed in his finest suit and those damn glasses he only wore on special occasions. He places a hand on your shoulder and turns to your date with an exaggeratedly apologetic expression. “Sorry, buddy, but this one’s a real work. You know it took me two kids to finally tie her down?”

Your date glances between you, Megumi, and Gojo, his eyes wide with pure panic, as if he’s just stumbled into something far beyond his comprehension. His grip tightens around his napkin, knuckles white. “I—I think I should go.”

You lurch forward, reaching out as if that might stop him. “No, wait—!”

But it’s already too late. He’s scrambling for his coat, chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushes back from the table, nearly knocking over his drink in his rush. Without sparing you another glance, he spins on his heel and all but bolts toward the exit, shoulders hunched as if he’s trying to make himself smaller.

You sit frozen for a second, blinking at the now-empty seat across from you. Then, slowly, you turn toward the culprits, fists clenched at your sides.

“You two,” you hiss, voice low and simmering with fury, “are in serious trouble.”

Megumi has the decency to look guilty, staring down at his lap, shifting awkwardly in his seat as if he’s just now realizing the full extent of what they’ve done.

Gojo, on the other hand, is utterly shameless. He stands there in all his smug glory, adjusting his sunglasses with a satisfied smirk. 

You grab your purse and storm out of the restaurant, with the two trailing behind you like two guilty kids.

“You know,” Gojo muses, “I think that went pretty well.”

You round on him so fast that even he takes a step back. “Pretty well?! You humiliated me! That poor guy thinks I have an entire secret family!”

Gojo snickers. “Well, technically, you do.”

You jab a finger into his chest. “You are not my husband.”

“But wouldn’t it be great if I was?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Megumi lets out a long sigh. “Please don’t entertain him. I’m sorry, [Name].” His blue eyes are trained onto the floor, “I just didn’t think he was good enough for you.”

You exhale sharply, some of your anger ebbing as you glance between the two of them.

“It’s okay, Megumi,” you sigh, your frustration softening at the sight of his guilty expression. You could never stay mad at him, not with that face.

Gojo, however, was a different story.

Slowly, you turn to him, eyes narrowing. “You—”

He grins, entirely unrepentant. “Me?”

Oh, he was so in for it.

Although he had been shamelessly unapologetic at the time, Gojo still found ways to complain about that night, even years later, after you were finally married.

“It was an unusually cruel punishment,” your husband whines dramatically, draping his entire body weight onto you as if his sheer presence could sway your sympathy.

“You mean the silent treatment?” you deadpan, eyes still trained on Megumi practicing his cursed technique across the yard. “It was only a week. Could’ve been longer if you hadn’t harassed everyone around me until they practically begged me to forgive you.”

Gojo lifts his head just enough to shoot you an exaggerated pout. “I don’t harass people. I simply exist, and they just happen to find me irresistible.”

“You tend to have the exact opposite effect, actually.”

“Ten years later, and you’re still so cruel to me.” He sighs heavily, as if burdened by the weight of your terrible treatment, before shoving his face into the crook of your neck. “You wound me, wife.”

You laugh, warmth bubbling in your chest as his breath tickles your skin. “You’re impossible.”

A loud thud interrupts the moment, and you both glance over just in time to see Megumi scowling, his stance off from a misstep in his training.

“You are still disgusting after all of these years,” he grumbles, adjusting his form before going at it again.

Gojo beams. “Aww, he likes us.”

You shake your head, smiling. “He tolerates us.”

“Eh, same thing.” Gojo squeezes you tighter, pressing a loud, obnoxious kiss to your cheek just to be insufferable.

Megumi groans. “Seriously, get a room.”

Gojo smirks, wiggling his brows. “Don’t tempt me, kid.”

[dollbrbie]

♡ ⸝⸝ IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO SAVE LIVES

featuring. neurosurgeon!gojo | smut mdni, repost :p

neurosurgeon!gojo who you unknowingly meet in a bar on the night before your first day at your new job as a surgical intern. you didn’t really intend to get as drunk as you did, and you didn’t intend to kiss the really cute guy at the bar who had your attention all night. but, you more than definitely didn’t intend to bring him back to your apartment

“oh- fuck.”, you mewl as he continues pounding into your overstimulated pussy, his hand wrapped gently around your neck with the other roughly grabbing onto the plush of your hips. his brows were furrowed as he chases both of your highs with his own faint whimpers, his movements just so perfectly hitting your g-spot as you wrap your legs around his waist and throwing your head back because of the pure euphoria this man you had just met was giving you

neurosurgeon!gojo who wakes up in your bed the next morning, feeling so confused after you just shook his peacefully sleeping figure awake, ranting on at him

“so yeah, you need to leave.”, was the only thing he managed to clock onto after you had been rambling on about something. being late for your first day of work was it? all while he was still figuring out where he was for a second. he thinks you’re cute, though, trying to rush him out of your apartment. can’t say he’s ever had that happen to him before

neurosurgeon!gojo who does eventually leave after you got into the shower with you thinking that was it and you’d never see this ridiculously attractive stranger again

neurosurgeon!gojo who is described as a genius on your first day at work as a surgical intern, as one of the best surgeons in the country. some even would go as far to say the world. you were just so excited to meet and potentially work with him! especially with your interest to specialise in neurosurgery

neurosurgeon!gojo who makes some time in his busy schedule to talk to all the new surgical interns as head of neurosurgery and give some insight and advice to his new colleagues

neurosurgeon!gojo who sees you as he’s talking, his breath caught in his throat and stumbling on his words which go unnoticed by absolutely no one. you sharply inhale, knowing you had just slept with the head of neurosurgery just twelve hours ago - god, was this gonna cause a conflict of interest?

“oh my god, do you know the dr. gojo?”, one of your fellow interns ask as you feel your face heat up in embarrassment, shaking your head and pretending like you’ve never seen this man, when the night before he was eight inches deep inside you

neurosurgeon!gojo who after the talk with the interns, pulls you to the side with a cheeky grin on his face as he mentions the night before while you stand there awkwardly with your hands clasped together

neurosurgeon!gojo who then shamelessly asks you out to dinner, only to be met with your furrowed brows and stern voice telling him that it was inappropriate. he was basically your boss, who was several years older than you at that. not to mention that you’d both get fired if anyone was to find out

neurosurgeon!gojo who takes your rejection as a game, continuing to flirt with you shamelessly any chance he got despite the eye rolls and heavy sighs you met him with

neurosurgeon!gojo who chases you for the next month, even letting you assist in his surgeries after finding out how interested in neurosurgery you were. you wondered if he was simply playing favourites

��did you let me assist because we slept together?”, you ask bluntly, just ripping the bandaid off. “hm? yes i did.”, he admits with a shrug. “do you not realise how inappropriate that is?”, you scoff. “well, that’s what you wanted me to say, wasn’t it? that i chose you because you’re my favourite.” there’s a pause, “i chose you because i thought you were the most capable. believe it or not, i know how to do my job.”

neurosurgeon!gojo who you soon realise isn’t as bad as you originally thought as you continue working with him, his cocky demeanour slipping every so often where you see a genuinely selfless and kind hearted man who just simply wants to save lives

neurosurgeon!gojo who asks you out for a drink, one drink, he says, simply to celebrate a successful surgery on a case that had a 20% chance of survival after your assist with him

neurosurgeon!gojo who is so delightfully surprised when you say yes, his constant days of chasing you finally moving in the direction he wanted, even if it was minimal

neurosurgeon!gojo who ends up buying you both multiple drinks, just as you knew would happen. the both of you were so giggly as you stumble out the bar together, your hand resting on his chest whilst his arm was wrapped around your shoulder

neurosurgeon!gojo who decides to take his chances, the liquid courage definitely hitting his head a little too hard, and pulls you in slowly as he places a small and sweet kiss on your lips, completely taking you by surprise

neurosurgeon!gojo who apologises profusely once he sees your shocked reaction, thinking he’s just fucked up the good night you both were having together

neurosurgeon!gojo who is shut up by you, pulling his shirt so he’s down to your level and roughly kissing him again, the previous worries you had before completely gone and the only thing on your mind was him, and just maybe that mind blowing sex he gave you the first night you met

“take me home?”, you ask as gojo catches on to the real meaning behind your words, smiling to himself as he nods with butterflies in his stomach. maybe his hard work flirting with you had finally paid off

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[wolfertinger666]

im thinking about that one time I said I don't feel comfortable with minors in my spaces or account and someone went absolutely apeshit in my replies saying I'm a bad person for gatekeeping queer kids from my account and then trauma dumped their sa after and not only was I confused I was extremely freaked out over how parasocial and entitled people are to my existence lmaooo

[jungwnies]

f1 grid (2/2) | pranking the parents

୨ৎ : featuring : lando norris, oscar piastri, kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, and yuki tsunoda (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by 🫐) : when you prank your boyfriend’s parents or sibling, he plays along a little too well...will they take your side?

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 1350

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : writing lando's literally took me out im cackling cus its too funny 😂

ʚ・lando norris

you were sitting at the kitchen island, chatting with cisca while lando hovered nearby, scrolling on his phone.

“lando,” you called sweetly, “can you grab my drink from the counter?”

without looking up, he shrugged lazily.

“why don’t you get it yourself?”

silence.

deadly silence.

cisca, mid-sentence, stopped cold.

slowly, she turned her head toward lando, one eyebrow arching in immediate disapproval.

“i know you did not just say that to y/n.”

lando froze. his fingers twitched around his phone, his body suddenly hyper-aware of the way his mother’s gaze was boring into his soul.

he tried to play it cool, but cisca was already leaning forward, resting her elbows on the counter, her expression unimpressed and ready for war.

“you think because you drive fast cars, you can have a bad attitude?” she asked, voice dangerously calm.

lando gulped.

cisca wasn’t done.

“i don’t care if you’re a big f1 star,” she continued, voice steadily rising. “i raised you better than to be rude to your partner. you think i’d ever let your dad speak to me like that? hah!”

you had to bite your lip to hold back laughter.

cisca kept going, hands now firmly on her hips, leaning in like she was about to hand out a full-blown life lesson.

“i don’t care if you’re tired, i don’t care if you’ve won a race, and i definitely don’t care if you think you’re funny. you do not talk to y/n like that. get. your. ass. up. and. get. the. drink.”

lando, completely defeated, shot up so fast his chair nearly toppled over.

“yes, mum. right away, mum.”

you finally lost it, bursting into laughter as lando sprinted to the counter like his life depended on it.

cisca simply shook her head, sipping her tea. “honestly, y/n, if you ever get tired of him, just let me know. we’ll replace him.”

lando returned, setting your drink down in front of you with the most exaggerated care.

you smirked. “thanks, babe.”

lando shot you a pointed glare, mouthing, “i hate you for making me agree to doing this.”

cisca smacked the back of his head.

“be grateful.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

the three of you were seated at the dining table, nicole chatting animatedly about something while oscar focused on his plate.

you decided it was the perfect time to strike.

“oscar, can you pass me the salt?” you asked casually.

without even looking up, he muttered—

“get it yourself.”

silence.

nicole immediately froze mid-bite, fork hovering in the air.

you could practically feel the temperature drop as she slowly turned her head toward her son.

“excuse me? oscar jack piastri, you better try that again.”

oscar, still trying to play it cool, swallowed his food like he didn’t have a death sentence hanging over him.

“it’s not that seri—”

nicole’s fork clanked against her plate.

you almost lost it right there, watching oscar’s usually calm, unbothered demeanor slowly crumble under his mother’s unimpressed glare.

before she could unleash a full mum-lecture, you burst out laughing.

“it’s a prank!” you admitted, giggling as oscar let out a breath of relief.

nicole sighed dramatically, shaking her head.

“you two are insufferable.”

you wiped a tear from your eye, still laughing. “but did you see his face?”

oscar rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. “yeah, yeah. ha ha. so funny.”

nicole, however, wasn’t done.

she turned to you, completely serious. “y/n, let me know if he ever does that for real—i’ll handle him.”

oscar choked on his drink. “mum—”

nicole raised an eyebrow. “you think i’m joking?”

you smirked, reaching for oscar’s hand. “i feel so protected.”

oscar groaned, covering his face.

he was never going to live this down.

ʚ・kimi antonelli

spending time with kimi’s family was always a wholesome experience—his mom, elisabetta, was warm and welcoming, and his little sister, maggie, was full of sass and always ready to call kimi out on his nonsense.

which is exactly why this prank was going to be golden.

the three of you were lounging in the living room, casually chatting while kimi scrolled through his phone, half-listening to the conversation.

you decided it was time.

“kimi, can you grab me some water?” you asked sweetly.

without looking up, he shrugged lazily.

“why don’t you do it yourself?”

instant regret.

maggie’s sharp gasp was immediate, and before kimi could react, she smacked his arm.

“kimi! that’s so rude! apologize right now!”

elisabetta, who had been calmly sipping her tea, slowly lowered her cup and turned to her son with a deadpan expression.

kimi blinked. “relax, i was joking—”

“joking? joking?!” elisabetta suddenly switched to full italian mom mode.

“ma che diavolo ti prende, kimi?! (what the hell is wrong with you, kimi?!)"

kimi winced. “mamma—”

“no, no, no! ti ho cresciuto meglio di così! (i raised you better than this!)”

maggie, shaking her head in pure disappointment, huffed. “i swear, i have to do everything,” she grumbled, already marching to the kitchen to get the water herself.

at this point, you were crying with laughter, clutching your stomach as kimi sat there getting absolutely destroyed in two languages.

finally, he gave up, rubbing his face in defeat.

“it was a prank...” he muttered, sighing dramatically.

elisabetta narrowed her eyes.

maggie returned with the water, setting it down in front of you with a proud smile.

“there you go, y/n. because i’m a decent human being.”

kimi groaned, burying his face in his hands. “i hate all of you.”

you smirked, taking a sip. “ah, refreshing.”

ʚ・ollie bearman

you were in the cereal aisle, reaching for a box on the top shelf, but it was just out of your grasp.

“babe,” you called sweetly, “can you grab that for me?”

ollie, without even hesitating, smirked and said, “nah, figure it out.”

silence.

his little sister’s jaw dropped.

she turned to him so fast, you swore you heard a whoosh.

“what did you just say to her?!”

ollie barely had time to react before she grabbed the nearest object—a pack of biscuits—and chucked it at him.

“ow—what the hell?!” ollie yelped, barely managing to dodge it.

she crossed her arms, glaring up at him like he had committed an actual crime.

“go get it before i tell mum you were being rude.”

ollie, still laughing but also fearing for his life, threw his hands up. “it was a prank, relax!”

his sister huffed, clearly unimpressed, before looking at you. “you don’t deserve this, y/n, you deserve someone better than my lazy brother, i think even i deserve a less lazy brother.”

ollie sighed, grabbing the cereal box and placing it in your hands.

“there, happy?”

his sister snatched the biscuits back off the floor. “no. i’m still telling mum.”

ollie groaned as you laughed, completely entertained.

this was definitely worth it.

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you were seated at a small corner table, enjoying your drinks, when you realized your phone was just out of reach.

“yuki,” you asked sweetly, “can you pass me my phone?”

yuki, barely looking up from his coffee, scoffed.

“what, you can’t reach?” (ironic right...)

instant. regret.

his mum immediately stopped mid-sip, slowly setting her teacup down with an audible clink.

the café noise seemed to fade into the background as she turned, her eyes narrowing.

“tsunoda yuki! nani yatteru no!?” ("what are you doing!?")

yuki froze.

his back straightened like he was about to receive a race penalty.

“kaa-san, it was a joke!” ("mom, it was a joke!")

she stared at him for one long, judging second before exhaling sharply, picking up her tea again.

“hmph. no dinner for you tonight.”

your laughter exploded out of you, nearly choking on your drink as yuki gaped.

“what?! no, wait—”

his mum casually sipped her tea, unfazed. “you want to be rude? then you can eat air.”

yuki turned to you in pure betrayal.

“look what you did,” he muttered, shoving your phone toward you.

you smirked, taking it. “thank you, babe.”

he huffed. “i hate this family.”

his mum simply shrugged. “i’ll see if i feel bad later.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[seasidefallenangel]

now say i'm the only one you need

ranking the bllk men on how good of a boyfriend they are ft. isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu, michael kaiser, alexis ness

song from here listen to it to get a kiss from me

༄ isagi: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” he’s incredibly attentive of all your needs and overall is very good at balancing his soccer career with your relationship. dictionary definition of “walk him like a dog.” anything you say goes and he’s more than happy with things being that way. actually has a pretty high tolerance for whatever things you might put him through, he tends to be good at solving problems before they can spiral out of control. the most you’ll have to deal with is the fact he can be kind of on the more awkward and shy side of things, unsure how to really be in a relationship. he wasn’t really popular or well known at all before blue lock, so at most he had crushes that were one-sided. his friends joke and tease about how you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. he doesn’t even care that they’re right.

༄ bachira: 9/10

the thing with bachira is that you’re not gonna date him unless you’re okay with all of his quirks, so there’s really nothing “bad” or unexpected going into the relationship. at his worst he can be clingy and a smidge overbearing, but he’s terrified of you deciding you want something more, better than him. he’s very easy going because of this, and really won’t have any disagreements with whatever ideas strike you. you’re actually a rock in this life, and he feels safe confiding all the thoughts clawing at his mind when he’s being held in your arms. despite what people may think, he does have a calmer temperament to him - generally after practice or late at night. he’s a big cuddle bug and will most likely fall asleep on your stomach, clinging to you so you can’t leave him.

༄ chigiri: 5/10

rose-glasses off, chigiri kinda sucks. he’s very selfish without the whole egoist thing going on, and it’s confirmed in canon that a lot of people get turned off by his personality after being drawn in by his looks. he obviously has some interest in you if you’re dating, but that doesn’t mean his bad traits magically go away. his mindset is very “me before you.” if you’re arguing he’s going to bring up points for the sole purpose of hurting you because he has to be right. he has too much pride to admit when he's wrong but also to apologize for his actions. on the opposite side of that, though, is compliments and the like are easy for him to give you. he’s pretty open with his opinions so if he likes a certain thing about you he has no qualms with telling you as such. he would never deny you're dating and generally likes to show you off, wanting everyone to know he bagged an incredible person. he’s not the worst person to date, but it probably won’t be worth anything as a long term relationship.

༄ nagi: 6/10

nagi is my favorite character and that’s why i need to say this. he does have some merit for what it’s worth. he’s very physically affectionate and is also really easy to be around. i see him as being more open to compromise if you’re stern enough with him. he might complain a bit but he’s not that hard to convince. the biggest issue with him is that he just… doesn’t care. if he goes to a new cafe with you it’s cause you asked him, not because he wanted to. it’s not that he doesn’t love you, he just doesn’t process things like this in his brain. the concept of ‘doing things for your partner before they ask’ doesn’t click. he’s not a mind reader, so isn’t just being vocal about what you want the easiest? he doesn’t really expect much from you as a partner so easily grows confused at why you have these random demands and expectations from him when you know exactly how he is. it might not be a dealbreaker, but it does make you question if he’s ever actually enjoying his time with you.

༄ reo: 8/10

reo’s biggest issues are 1.) he's absurdly jealous and 2.) his money. the thing with his money is the fact he uses it almost as a deflector of sorts. if you have a genuine problem you need to sort out with him, he's giving you new jewelry, designer bags, dinners at michelin star restaurants instead of talking it out. he doesn’t want to give you the chance to bring up your displeasure in regards to something he’s done. it’s his default answer because it’s the only thing people have wanted from him. reo is actually very scared of conflict. he’s worried you’ll leave him at the first sign of him not being the picture perfect boyfriend that’s expected from him, which ties into the jealousy. if someone has a trait you admire, he’ll mold himself to fit that thing you seem to like.  he hates when you even acknowledge other people’s talents or attractive features  (save for nagi.) speaking of nagi, it’s played out but i do believe he’s the only person reo will share you with. if nagi wants to cuddle, kiss, act like your boyfriend, reo has no issue as long as he’s involved too. when you’re someone reo truly loves, he’ll let you do pretty much anything to him with no repercussions. it’s very easy to take advantage of him as long as you promise stay by his side.

༄ rin: 7/10

no matter how much he denies it, rin tries very hard to be sae. he wants to be the nonchalant boyfriend, never losing his cool and making it seem like you’re always running back for more. in truth, he couldn’t be more obvious about how badly he needs you. he has this sort of non-stop identity crisis going so he’s going to have this front of “fine with you, fine without you.” he wants you to think he doesn’t need you that bad because he’s worried you’ll see him as weak. the thing that makes it obvious is that when you’re threatening to leave because he’s just too hot and cold, he caves instantly. teeth gritted, he’ll ask what you want him to change, what kind of person should he be for you? after sae, he became so desperately starved for love that the second you started dating  he felt like he was suffocating, always needing your validation but unable to ask for it. similarly to reo, he’s easy to take advantage of if you insinuate that you’re unhappy with something currently in your relationship. be gentle because you can break him apart and he’ll always think it was his fault.

༄ sae: 9/10

i’m gonna go against the grain and say that sae is actually a great boyfriend because he wouldn’t bother getting into a relationship to begin with if he didnt think it’s worth his time. he’s an incredibly self assured person so he has no reason to be all wishy-washy with who he’s interested. sae’ll make it clear he wants to date you and obviously you’re reciprocating because duh, he’s sae itoshi. from the get go he’ll remind you that soccer is his career, his lifeblood, and while he loves you more, his priorities lay there. the fact he straight up admits it instead of letting it become a festering issue is exactly why he’s so good because neither of you will have wasted time in the relationship. he’s also easier to talk to than one might think. sae generally believes drawn out arguments are pointless  and wasting energy on them doesn’t help anyone, so any that you two have are squashed pretty quickly. affection comes pretty easily to him but he can be a little emotionally absent at his worst. it’s not really something that changes over time, but he has other methods of making sure you know he adores you. it’s very “what you see is what you get.” if you’re acquainted with him at all, there’s really no negative surprises or unexpected twists that put a damper on the romance between you both. if nothing else, he makes sure the whole world know exactly who you belong to, and it leaves you with no room to doubt he plans to keep you by his side forever.

༄ karasu: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” this is generally a shock to people who know the kind of company he keeps around but the thing is that karasu doesn’t approve of otoya’s behavior. he goes from insinuating otoya could be doing better things with his time than leading girls on to flat out telling him he’s pathetic for not holding down a relationship. most of the girls who have their hearts broken by otoya fall in love with karasu right after from how kindly he treats them and the way he apologizes for his friends nasty habits. karasu holds a lot of respect for you as a person since he’s attracted to people he can analyze and read into. a common bonding activity is just him asking your opinions on certain topics or how you’d approach a theoretical situation and he’ll sit back and listen, trying to dig into your mind. he’s also very self aware of his flaws and will admit he isn’t perfect but is always working to better himself (“his weakness is that he can't be nice to people he thinks are mediocre and knows he needs to fix that.”) it’s not like you’ll never have issues, but he always resolves them in a way that doesn’t add tension or doubt to your relationship. he’s also good with all 5 love languages and prefers to show them all to you, but if you have ones you prefer or dislike then he can easily adjust. he’s always listening to you, learning about you, wanting to be the best version of himself he can for you.

༄ otoya: 6/10

the glaring bone of contention with otoya is obvious to anyone who knows him - but not in the way you think. otoya can be a good boyfriend if he wants ; he knows what girls like, what makes them happy, how to keep them satisfied. he’s had enough practice for it to be second nature. once you're in a genuine relationship with him, he’s going to treat you pretty well. thing is - that’s exactly his problem. in the back of your head you know why he’s so good at this. you know you’re an idiot for thinking you can change him despite the fact you did. it’s just impossible to believe. every time he tries to reassure you that yes, you’re his only, he doesn’t want to go back to his old ways, you’re just staring at him thinking to yourself, ‘wonder how many times he’s used this line on someone.’ you’re just never going to have a sense of security with him because there’s always this lingering "what if" bouncing around. the worst part is that it’s not an unreasonable line of thought. mindless paranoia is one thing, but there’s so much proof against him that you’d be more humiliated for assuming he isn’t cheating on you - you can’t date a serial cheater and be really that mad or shocked if he does. you know what you signed up for accepting his confession, so your entire viewpoint is that it’s a matter of ‘when’ and not ‘if’. you can never ever say with full confidence he's 100% yours, even when he is.

༄ yukimiya: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” i know it’s like beating a dead horse since this is a commonly shared sentiment but he really is incredible. a big part of the reason why is actually the fact he’s emotionally mature. he’s in tune with how he feels and knows how to convey it respectfully but isn’t so set in his ways he can’t see what points you want to make if you were to disagree on something. something else is that he’s very good at reading your micro-behaviors and can fall in line pretty well with how you act without compromising his own personality (in comparison to how someone like bachira or alexis would.) if you tend to be on the shyer side, not really one to defend yourself, he has no issue stepping in and solving whatever problem is going on. on the flip if you are more outgoing and not scared to bite at people then he'll fall back, only intervening when he can sense things’ll get ugly if he doesn’t tug on your leash a little bit. something he particularly enjoys doing is picking up hobbies or skills that you enjoy or would appreciate. he’ll learn how to cook if you hate it or asks you to read your favorite books to him at night, wrapped in his arms while he presses a gentle kiss against your temple. 

༄ kaiser: 4/10 to 8/10 

the thing with kaiser is that he’s a really good boyfriend, but you have to go through hell to get to that point. he has so many walls and has all these little “tests” where he tries to catch you using him for his money, status, looks, etc. kaiser wants to convince himself that love obviously isn’t real ; look at his parents for god’s sake. so he’s always trying to plan some “gotcha” thing and catch you in the act. the issue is, he doesn’t. you’re really like this from the bottom of your heart and he can’t wrap his head around that fact. so he goes to the emotion he knows best - anger. he’s lashing out at you for lying to him, accusing you of all sorts of things because surely there’s no way this is real, that he has something fully his, someone who cherishes him and sees him for his best. this entire process isn’t a few months either - this is a good two or three years. he has a lot of built up trauma to navigate both on his own and with you. if you somehow have the conviction to get through this then he’ll be a really incredible guy to have around. he loves you so fiercely that he’d rather die than let the one good thing he’s been gifted to slip from his fingers, but everyone in your life is going to hate him by then and insist he hasn’t changed, feeling like you’re going to eventually be broken by him.

༄ alexis: ?/10

alexis is actually pretty similar to bachira, just more extreme. in any other context, his obsessions would be viewed as something of concern or distasteful but dating alexis means you already would know about it and in turn only get into a relationship if you were okay with it. it’s not as if his attachment to kaiser is a secret. if you’re going in with the “i can fix him” mentality then you’ve doomed yourself already. you have to already accept his quirks and such to really reach him in a way that matters. a relationship with him is this unending back and forth. you're actually not really going to be viewed as this untouchable deity because he's already yours. he doesn't have to prove his worth like with kaiser. the thing is that kaiser molded who he is now so kaiser is kind of his tie to humanity - without him, alexis doesn’t really have much keeping him tied to earth. don’t think you’re not important to him because and he’s going to insane lengths for you to accept his unhealthy outlets of showing his love and devotion to you. he feels so much more human with you because you’re giving him the attention that he has to beg kaiser for but without the requirements to earn it - you just love him naturally. he’s not trying to prove that he deserves your love, he’s trying to prove that he loves you just as much back but he doesn’t know how to do it normally. he doesn’t know how to offer himself to you in a way that isn’t self destructive. he’s stuck in this non-stop cycle of you trying to convince him he doesn’t need to like earn your love and him thinking that it’s you saying he’s not doing enough to to earn your love and thus he goes to more extremes. if you can handle it then he’s great for you, you’ll never question that he’s madly in love with you. but if you get overwhelmed then he grows more unstable, and you’re stuck trying to make him better while he makes himself worse to hopefully get you to finally praise him for shattering who he is.

[rosechata]

Spring in full swing

[fuctacles]

"There is no ONE way to experience literature, and allowing a bigoted, delusional author to decide so is both giving her undue power and influence when she has more than she should already"

[strang3lov3]

Better or Worse

“So,” Joel says, wrapping his arm around your side and pulling you against his bare torso, “Daddy’s gonna stuff ya full and slow the bleed. That way you’re not soakin’ through the mattress all night. S’that make sense, Pumpkin?”

Tags - dark daddy!joel, one shot, dubcon, smut, unprotected piv, daddy kink/ddlg dynamics, kinda icky/invasive at times, girthy legal age gap, diminutive nicknames, period sex, liiitle bit of blood kink, cockwarming, big dick joelie makes it fit, blood as lube, the cramps that hurt you feel good for joel lmao, fingering, somno, dark fluff, implied captivity, pms symptoms - reader is described as feeling/looking bloated and having some acne, was previously malnourished and missing her period. Joel's not so scarydaddy here, guys. Pretty gentle and sweet in this one if I do say so myself. 5k words A/N - hey gamers :) told yall I didn’t forget about dark daddy!! Thank you for your patience, and I hope it hits the spot. Love y'all.

You’ve been reading the same sentence over and over in your book for what feels like hours, maybe. Can’t remember the last time you turned a page and at this point, and you can’t remember what’s going on in the story. All you feel is an awful, nagging throb in your skull, pulsing in your fucking ear. It’s like TV fuzz in your brain. 

You get up with a stretch, pausing to sit back down because you stood up too fast, and all that blood rushing back to your brain makes your head pound even worse. At least it’s overcast out, right? God, the thought of sunlight makes you want to puke. You have no clue why you feel so bad right now. You’re not sick. 

When you’re ready, you head to the kitchen and open the cabinet where Joel keeps some odds and ends. A basket full of old, loose bandaids that have long since turned yellow. Petroleum jelly. Allen wrenches and Flintstone vitamins that are all melted together and stuck at the bottom of the bottle. Just shit that should’ve been thrown away long ago, or made its way down from the medicine cabinet upstairs and never returned home. 

Tylenol. It’s right on the top shelf, just out of reach. You stand on your toes to reach it, using your fingertips to nudge it closer to the edge. You try to catch it before it falls, but a larger hand beats you to it. “Nuh-uh,” Joel says, snatching the bottle right up. “You save that for your old man, hm? My back’s thirty goddamn years older’n yours, kid.” 

“So?” 

“So,” Joel drawls, “You leave ‘em be. Them pills are in short supply, too.” And old, and losing potency. Joel idly wonders if they even do anything anymore, if they’re just placebos at this point. Placebo or not, they’re his. “Whatcha even need Tylenol for, honey?” 

“I have a headache,” you answer, mentally cursing yourself as soon as the words slip from your lips. “Fuck.” 

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up at the swear; a simple, wordless warning is all the acknowledgment he gives it. “I know you didn’t just say a headache. What am I gonna tell ya?” 

“I don’t knowwww,” you murmur, avoiding Joel’s gaze. 

“Yes, y’do. What’m I gonna say?”

That you’re probably dehydrated. But you don’t answer Joel. You just slide past him and reach for the knob of a different cabinet door, picking out your favorite glass - it’s decorated in images of a little black cat, the paint faded and scratched and gray. Joel says the cat’s name is Felix. Was a cartoon he used to watch as a kid.

You fill your glass with water and drink it, eyeing Joel the whole time. He stands with his arms crossed, biceps bulging in his t-shirt as he wears his stupid, knowing grin, a grin that you can’t help but smile back at. Joel chuckles fondly at you smiling into the glass. 

You sigh as you set your glass down, refreshed by the cool water. “Attagirl,” Joel praises, then takes a couple of strides across the kitchen and meets you at the sink and fills your glass right back up. “Again.” 

“Again?”

“Mhm.”

You drink the second glass, glaring at him the whole time. Making a little show of it, just to rub his nose in your irritation a little. “Oh, I know. It’s so terrible, havin’ clean water to drink. I torture ya, don’t I?”

“You do, though.”

You take your place back on the couch, opening up your book again. Joel follows you, then gently removes the book from your hands. “Hey–” He finds your bookmark and places it between the pages, remembering when you told him, “I don’t like when you do that.”

“Do what?” he’d asked.

“Fold the pages.”

He hasn’t dog-eared a page of yours since. Joel places the book on the end table, then takes your head between both of his large palms, and tilts it back, back, resting you against the plush upholstery of the couch. And then, oh. Joel’s rubbing your temples with his calloused thumbs, watching as those favorite eyes of his slide shut. “Mmm…” you sigh, melting under his warm hands. 

“That helpin’ a little?”

A lazy nod of your head has Joel chuckling. You’re just like a kitten, happily purring like he’s scratching your fuzzy little chin with those big fingers of his, all curled up and blissed out. 

“What’s got your head achin’, Pumpkin?”

You shrug. Joel looks out the window at the blooming flowers you’ve been watering on his porch, taking very special care of. God, you. Your innocence. Joel’s sweet, tender-hearted girl. It really does drive him fucking nuts that you leave food on the porch, attracting raccoons all sorts of other critters late at night. Chipmunks in the morning, chipmunks you’ve named and fattened up and giggle at. Joel sighs, “Maybe it’s the weather changin’. Or allergies, or somethin’ like that.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Maybe.”

Hours later, Joel finds you in the hallway, standing just inches away from the big, dusty mirror. You’re pulling the fabric of your shirt taught over your stomach, frowning at the reflected image before lifting the shirt’s hem and poking at yourself experimentally. 

He stands behind you, putting his two, large palms on your shoulders. “Whatcha poutin’ about now, sweetheart?” he asks, rubbing you with his thumbs. He kisses the top of your head to see if you’ll smile, but you don’t. “Thought we fixed that achy head’a yours.” 

“I’m like…bloated or something,” you mumble, pinching and prodding at your soft stomach. You turn to the side and then suck in your gut, and frown harder. 

Joel hates the look on your face. Your brows pinched together, eyes narrowed at your reflection as you visually pick yourself apart, scrutinizing every little detail of yourself that Joel loves. Trying to fix a problem that’s not there. “Hey, knock it off, kiddo. S’enough.” Joel pushes your hand away. “A lil’ tummy never hurt no one. S’okay,” he urges softly, rubbing your arm. What’s going on with you?

“No, Joel. Lookl–” 

“Listen, Pumpkin,” Joel jokes, patting his own stomach, “Your old man ain’t exactly model-thin, either. See?” hoping it’ll make you laugh, but it doesn’t. Instead, you’re ignoring him and onto the next thing, focusing on a tiny little blemish on your chin. He exhales through his nose, “I said, enough, sweetheart. Quit pickin’ at yourself.” 

“But I have a zit.” 

Joel spins you around, looking at the little mark himself. He frowns and furrows his brows, chewing on his lip as he examines your face. “Daddy, please,” you whine, pulling away from him. “Don’t look at me. I look horrible.” 

Joel wonders where a comment like that came from. He’s saddened by it, honestly, and confused. You don’t look horrible. Just the opposite, in fact. 

“M’your daddy, an’ I’ll look at that beautiful face if I wanna.” He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he turns your face slowly to the left and then to the right, admiring every detail on your skin - including that little zit. 

After pausing, Joel clicks his tongue. “Ah, shit. Y’know what, I think you’re right,” he mutters solemnly. “God. This is just terrible, honey.” 

Your face drops, and your eyes go wide at his words. “What?”

“Mhm. Reckon we’re gonna have to amputate.” Joel tsks then, a smile playing at the corner of his lip. “Damn, what a shame. I kinda liked ya, kid. Ooohhhhh welllll…” 

Now that earns him a smile. And an eye roll, of course, and you gently shoving him away. But Joel catches your arm and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head again. 

“You’re not funny, Daddy.” 

“Eh. Maybe so. Think I’ll live,” Joel shoots back. 

“You don’t get it. I look…I don’t know. It’s like - like–” you stutter, trying to find the words. Everything is wrong. Your face, your body, your hair. Your mood. You. You almost feel claustrophobic, surrounded by your own upset. There’s this constant, nagging storm cloud that follows you around, and it’s raging inside you too. Inescapable.

“Daddy sure as hell ain’t ever won a beauty pageant in his whole life, darlin’. See all these wrinkles? Y’got my ugly mug beat by a landslide, honey.”

“But those are wrinkles,” you argue. “Not a fat fu…” you stop yourself before you swear again, “Zit,” you say.

“What if I told you I had a face full’a zits when I was your age?”

“It wouldn’t matter. That was forever ago.” 

Joel scoffs. Always have an answer for everything, don’t you? “Watch it. Wasn’t forever ago.” Joel’s brows briefly pinch together as he quickly does the mental math - it kind of was forever ago, actually. “‘Sides. There’s always gonna be somethin’ on ya that you don’t like. Gotta learn to live with it, right?”

“I guess,” you mumble.

“Sweetheart, y’look fine,” Joel whispers, holding your cheeks in his palms. “You’re beautiful. Ain’t no two ways about it.” He rubs your soft skin with his thumbs, so profoundly tender and gentle. “What’s gotten ya feelin’ so blue today?” 

“I don’t know,” you tell Joel, initiating a hug on your own. You don’t always do that, and it catches Joel off guard a little. He just hugs you back, watching the two of you in the mirror. Your face buried in his chest, looking so…down. Joel cups the bottom of your skull in his large hand, kisses the top of your head, and then trails his fingers down your spine. 

You’re squirmy on the couch. Constantly shifting as you shove handful after handful of popcorn into your mouth. Joel hasn’t seen you eat so voraciously since he found you all those months ago, and returned to you the second day with a warm thermos of chicken and noodles. Not like he minds, though. Eat him out of house and home, that’s what he’s there for. Joel makes no comment on your appetite. 

“My stomach hurts,” you mumble through a mouthful of popcorn. 

But he does have an inkling of what may be going on. 

“Maybe y’need to go potty,” Joel offers. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Not like that. It’s like…I don’t know.”

It’d make sense, right? You’ve been in his care for months now, healthy again. No longer malnourished, eating proteins and fats and vegetables on the regular. And if he is right, it’d explain the bloating, and the acne - again, not that he gives a shit. And it’d explain your mood, too. Or not. You’ve always been a little testy with him, a little bratty. To be expected. Joel’s given you boundaries, and it’s natural for you to want to push on them. Find out how serious he is. You’ve learned many times, though it never seems to stick. Persistent, persistent girl...

Joel guesses that he’ll see. 

You sit up and peel off your blanket, dropping it on Joel’s lap. “Where are you off to?” Joel asks. 

“I think I’m ready for bed,” you yawn, holding a hand on your lower stomach. 

“Yeah?” Joel stands up, the blanket falls to the floor. “Okay. Well, lemme tuck ya in and kiss ya goodnight, honey.”

You take his hand as you lead Joel up the stairs, dragging him by two of his fingers. His knees pop with every step he takes, god. He’s getting so old. Joel follows you into your bedroom, watches as you lie on the bed, then turn onto your side and clutch your tummy. You’re all curled up, like you’re attempting to hide from the pain. Poor thing. 

The dresser groans as Joel opens the drawer second from the top. He’ll have to grease those wheels inside soon. He picks out a nice pajama set - flowy white shorts and a shirt with little ducks on them. Joel turns around, then hovers over you on your bed. He pulls off your pants and panties with ease, then tosses the garments into your laundry basket and wriggles the pajama shorts up your legs. “Lift up for me,” he says, and you moan as you lift your hips. He takes you by the hand and lifts your torso up next, shushing your cries of discomfort. “Arms up, baby girl. Real quick.”

Joel takes your shirt off and dresses you in the pajama top next, and smoothes out the fabric over your curves with his wide hands. “I always liked these on ya,” Joel murmurs. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. They’re my favorite, I think. I like those ducks.” 

Joel smiles warmly. You smile back. You’re not feeling so good, but it’s been a good day with Joel. Tender, easy. You don’t always get to have good days with him. So often, it’s the push and pull; the tide meeting the shore, crashing together and pulling apart. You’re too similar for your own good, and sometimes, too different. But the good days are good. 

Joel kisses you on the forehead, then on the nose, and finally on your lips. Soft, gentle. “G’night, kiddo.” Joel gives your hand a comforting squeeze. “I love ya. M’always thinkin’ of ya,” he rhymes, tucking you in under your covers. With one last kiss, he bids you goodbye, and turns out the overhead light and takes care to turn on your nightlight. He shuts your door, hoping you’ll feel yourself in the morning.

When you wake up hours later, there’s still a dull, pulsing ache in your abdomen. Like a fist is groping at your insides, and then - a long, firm squeeze, or more of a pinch, rather. It’s so extremely painful that it has you squirming and twisting, crying out in agony. 

And there it is - the sticky feeling between your thighs. You’re utterly soaked, inner thighs slick and warm with, with…blood. You turn on your lamp and your eyes widen at the sight in front of you. 

It’s everywhere. Shades of crimson and brown soaking through your sheets, staining those patterned pretty stars all red. The fabric is shiny with your blood, as are your pajamas. It’s all between your thighs and running up your back. Fucking everywhere. 

You forgot all about your period, as it’s been so long since you’ve had one. You knew it’d come back when Joel brought you to his home, but it still takes you by surprise. The bleed is so fucking heavy you can feel it dripping from you, that slippery, awful, visceral feeling. Your face burns as you rip your sheets off of your bed in a panic, swallowing nervously when you see that your mattress is stained, too. 

You drag everything to the bathroom and toss it into the tub, frantically rubbing a bar of soap on the stains as water pours over it. You take off your pajamas too, crying at the image of those blood-stained ducks. Joel’s favorite set. Oh god, he’s gonna be so upset with you. He’ll, he’ll - fuck. You brace yourself for the inevitable, for the rage.

Joel wakes up to the noise of the tub, the loud stream of water drumming against the sheets. There’s rattling and commotion coming from the bathroom, quiet sniffling and crying. He’s all but completely sure he knows what’s wrong as he gets out of bed and takes heavy steps towards the hall and - his intuition was correct. Drops of blood on the floor, a large stain on your mattress. Joel sighs deeply and taps his knuckles against the door, its frame outlined in the warm, yellow light coming from inside. 

“Open up, Pumpkin.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, eyes blurry with tears. “Joel - I can’t, Daddy.” Your voice is thick with tears. Joel’s heart aches at the way you choke on your own sobs. 

“Yes, y’can. Open this door,” Joel repeats, and his voice is measured, patient. 

“I really - I can’t,” you tell him, hands on either side of your head as you panic. The blood isn’t washing out much, and you - fuck. You’re covered in it yourself. As is the bathroom. 

“M’not gonna be mad at ya, kiddo. Whatever it is.” 

Joel listens to you take a couple of deep, shuddering breaths. “P-promise?”

“On my life.”

There’s a couple of footsteps, and then the door opens about an inch. Joel’s brows furrow as he takes in what he can of you - eyes stained by tears, blood dripping between your thighs. You nudge the door open just a little more, then fit your hand through the crack and offer Joel your pinkie. Joel raises his own hand, loops his pinkie around yours, and kisses your knuckles. He raises his eyebrows, silently asking again that you let him in. Those dark eyes are soft and patient. Warm. 

You open the door the rest of the way, allowing Joel to take it all in. The mess in the bathtub and on the floor, and you standing before him, dripping a vermillion mess. “Oh, Pumpkin.” 

Joel pulls you into a tight hug, hushing your sobs as you tell him over and over, you’re so sorry. You’re so sorry, Daddy. 

“What the hell are you sorry for, sweet girl?”

“F-for the sheets, and for ruining the mattress. And m-my-m–”

“Deep breaths, hon.”

“--My pajamas,” you continue, without stopping to breathe. 

Joel nods, understanding. “Nothin’ t’be sorry about. It’s a natural part’a life, right?”

“Y-yeah, but–”

“But nothin’. It ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”

“Please don’t be angry,” you whimper. “I really tried.”

Joel feels a pressure building behind his own eyes. He’s getting so soft as he ages, and he knows what he’s done to you. The fear he’s instilled. The guilt eats him alive, sometimes. 

“Ohhh, I’m not mad at you a bit, sweet girl. Not a bit.” Joel gently pushes you an inch back, pinching at your hair that’s stuck to your sticky cheeks. He clicks his tongue as more tears fall, wiping them away with his rough fingertips. It hurts a little, the skin under your eyes so sensitive and raw and puffy right now. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up, huh?” You nod. “Go wash your face in the sink,” Joel tells you, crouching by the tub. 

He grabs the sheets and chuckles as he squeezes the water out of them. “Well, ya can’t use warm water, knucklehead. Stain ain’t gonna budge an inch f’ya do that.” 

Joel’s eyes widen as you let out a sob at the comment, crying hard once again. Jesus, your emotions are all over the place. Poor girl. “Heeey, enough. Enough with the waterworks, alright? I’m gonna take care of it.” 

“B-”

Joel bunches up the wet sheets and stands up, holding your chin between the fingers of his free hand. “I need you to calm down, kiddo. It’s okay. Y’understand me? It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Okay,” you sniffle. “Okay.” 

Joel leaves the water on. “Gonna clean this up and see if I can’t find ya somethin’ for your monthly,” he says. “You get in the tub and rinse yourself off a little, alright? An’ the water’ll feel good on your achin’ tummy, too,” he advises.

Joel’s right. You sit in the tub and put the rubber stopper in the drain, letting the water fill up and soothe your cramps as Joel takes care of everything else. He scrubs your mattress and the sheets with peroxide, watching the bloodstains bubble up in shades of red and orange. It’s not perfect, but nothing is. It’ll do.

He tosses the sheets in a laundry bag, and will probably end up dropping it off at the laundromat tomorrow morning. He checks his supply closet for some old tampons or pads or something, but there’s nothing. Unless he wanted to get creative with some washrags, but…

…In truth, Joel’s been waiting for this. Maybe even planned it. He knew one day or another you’d get your period, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his cock twitch to think about it. Sinking inside that warm, wet, bleeding cunt…

Joel comes back into the bathroom, running a hand through his graying hair as he checks behind the mirror and under the sink. “Got bad news for ya, kiddo,” he sighs, shutting the cabinets. “I’m empty.”

“So I just have to sit here until it’s over?”

“Nah, ‘course not. Gimme a minute and I’ll show ya what’m gonna do with ya.” Joel bends over and touches your scalp, then presses a kiss against your forehead. “Empty the tub an’ dry off. Come to my room when you’re done.” 

Joel leaves you and leaves the bathroom door open. You listen to him grab a couple of things from the closet, and the sound of rustling fabric and blankets coming from his bedroom. The drain gurgles as you let the water out and dry yourself off, cringing at the blood staining the towel, too. You tiptoe to Joel’s room.

His bed is made neatly with layers of old blankets and towels, and he has you sit on them. You squirm, uncomfortable with the idea of bleeding freely. “But I’m gonna ruin these, too.”

“Nah, don’t fuss over it. They’ve all seen better days,” Joel laughs. “Get comfy. Lie down.” 

You lie on the bed, shivering as Joel joins you. He removes his clothes and his cock is standing at half attention already, bouncing between his thighs as he adjusts his pillows. “You’re bleedin’ too heavy to go bare,” Joel explains, pumping his cock with his fist. 

“Okay…”

“So,” Joel continues, wrapping his arm around your side and pulling you against his bare torso, “Daddy’s gonna stuff ya full and slow the bleed. That way you’re not soakin’ through the mattress all night. S’that make sense, Pumpkin?”

It does. You turn your head and nod, but Joel can see in your eyes how nervous you are with the idea. That, coupled with your bleed. Of course you’re anxious, insecure. 

“We’ll go slow,” he promises. “An’ in the morning I’ll fetch ya some supplies when I drop your sheets off. Sound good?”

“Okay, Daddy.” 

Joel kisses you on the lips, then adjusts the way you lay on his bed, pulling you onto your back. “M’gonna give ya my fingers first, alright? Get ya ready for it.” He parts your legs, smiling as you take your place. You bury your head into his neck, same as you always do. The eye contact is hard for you sometimes, not that Joel minds. He finds it endearing how bashful you get. 

He licks his fingers - force of habit - and drags them up and down the seam of your wet, bleeding center, smiling at your sigh of relief. Poor thing, you’re all pent up, too. And your cunt aches, and simply needs a loving touch. 

Joel circles your clit, waiting for your body to relax into him. It’ll take a minute, sure. He whispers to you how beautiful you are, how much he loves to make you feel like this. How special that is, sweetheart. It’s Daddy’s favorite thing. 

He’s quiet as he dips one thick finger inside you, then two. Slipping them slowly inside, palm pressed against your mound. Joel pumps them in and out of you, acclimating you to the intrusion. And then, he curls them. Curls them, pulses them rhythmically up towards that special, spongy spot deep inside you. Joel feels your body warm as he fucks you on his fingers, listens to the quiet, breathy whimpers of your pleasure. 

Joel pulls his fingers from you, and notices the frown on your face as you see your own mess on his hands. “Don’t look,” he tells you, and wipes them on a towel. Blood remains caked around his fingernails, though. “Eyes on me.” 

You nod, and Joel turns you so your back is faced to him. He pushes your legs apart, then poises his cock at your entrance. “I’m goin’ easy on ya,” he promises. “Nice an’ slow.” 

“Yeah,” you murmur, reaching for his forearm as he presses against you. 

“An’ I know it ain’t - fuck - ideal,” Joel grunts, notching his tip inside your aching, bleeding cunt, hushing your cries of pain as his length starts to fill you. “But we gotta make do. Just can’t have ya bleedin’ everywhere, honey.” 

“I - I know, but it hurts, Daddy,” you warn, squirming at the intrusion. “It’s - yeah. It’s hurting.” 

“Oh, I know it hurts, pumpkin.” Joel licks his fingers and reaches between your legs for your clit, rubbing the sensitive part of you as he eases his way inside. “You’re bein’ a real trooper. Deep breath,” he instructs, “Do it with me. In–” and sucks in a breath, motioning for you to follow. “And out.” 

On your exhale, Joel pushes all the way in, bottoming out with a grunt, and a whimper follows from your own lips. “There it is. Piece’a cake,” he pants through a grin, throbbing inside of you. 

You squeeze your eyes shut at the painful pinch, focusing instead on the way Joel rubs your sore, cramping abdomen with his warm palm. “M’so sorry you’re not feelin’ good. But you’re bein’ so good f’me,” he coos, his cock twitching. “My sweet fuckin’ girl.” 

Joel holds you against him as he reaches for his lamp, then pulls the chain and shuts the light off. He drops against you, sighing deeply as you squirm on his cock. 

The pain of the stretch dissipates as the minutes pass, and Joel’s breathing steadies. The ache is replaced by a different pain, a squeezing, aching cramp that overtakes your whole body. You groan in discomfort, clenching tightly around Joel, and it makes his breath catch in his throat. 

“It’s - it’s hurting, still,” you grimace. 

“What hurts, Pumpkin? Where?”

“It’s not you,” you answer. “My - fuck, I’m sorry. My cramps.” 

Joel rubs your belly harder, though it doesn’t do so much to soothe your pain. You whimper as another particularly bad cramp washes over you, balling your hands into fists around Joel’s fingers. “Oh, honey. M’so sorry,” he whispers. “Aint’ fair what you girls gotta go through.” 

Joel thinks for a minute, considering your pain and his own discomfort. Fuck, you are tight. And every horrible cramp that plagues your body only serves to pleasure him, what with the way you squeeze and pulse around him through the pain. “M’gonna try somethin’, sweetheart,” he whispers, shifting on the bed. 

Joel pulls out of you slowly, then thrusts back inside. Not hard, not fast. Gentle and steady, nice and slow. He does it again, conscious to rub that sweet place inside you, and not to bruise your cervix with his head. 

“S’that better or worse?” he asks softly. 

Joel does it again. A slow draw out, that gradual push back in. The cramping fades into the background as that special, satisfying feeling takes over instead. 

“Hurtin’ or helpin’?”

“Y– Oh, Daddy,” you coo, your grip softening around his fingers. 

Joel smiles, satisfied. “Ohh, s’helpin’, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s helping.” 

Joel keeps fucking you slowly, dropping your hand to reach for your clit. He noses your ear and presses kisses against your neck, feeling your heartbeat pulse under his lips. The way he rolls his hips against you has you biting your lip and moaning his name, though it all comes out in little half-syllables. “Daddy’s here,” Joel whispers. “I gotcha.” 

He builds the speed a little, focusing only on your pleasure at the moment. The head of his cock rubs exactly where you need it to as he massages your clit with practiced circles that have you sighing in pleasure, inching closer and closer to your release. “Go ‘head and cum for me,” Joel rasps, “Let go, Pumpkin.” 

It’s not immediate, but it’s close enough. Just one, two, three more strokes and you’re cumming hard on Joel’s length, pulsing and clenching around him in non-rhythm. Joel fucks you through your climax until your quiet moaning subsides, and all that’s left is heavy breathing. 

…But the groans of pain return. Such a sour ending to something so sweet. It’s how it always seems to go with you, though.

Joel winces, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Goddamn, kid. Cramps still ain’t lettin’ up, are they?”

“Guess not,” you murmur. 

“Want me to whoop ‘em?”

You laugh, and the motion of your body on his cock has Joel humming. “M’serious. Let me give ya one more, baby. You need’a get your rest.” 

Joel fucks you again, just as he did before. He’s a patient, patient man. Achingly hard and focused on your pleasure, focused on easing your hurt. When you cum again, when Joel’s drawn out every bit of pleasure from you that he could, he waits with bated breath for your whine of pain to follow - and it never does. 

What he does hear, however, is your gentle snoring. Joel exhales in relief, and begins fucking you for the third time. This time, for himself. 

He does so slowly but still at his own pace, focusing on his pleasure. Just a steady rocking of his hips, a consistent drawing in and out of your wet, bleeding pussy. Joel holds you tightly against his chest, breathing in that comforting, familiar scent of the top of your head. He savors the specific heat coming off of your body - you’re a little warmer than usual - and the feeling of his bare skin against yours. 

Joel’s so hard and rigid, and there’s a pressure quickly building in his balls and deep in his gut. He pulls you flush against his chest as he cums with a deep, guttural groan that escapes through his teeth, moaning while he paints your insides, all those muscles tensing and relaxing. 

He relaxes against you, kissing your ear as he settles into the soft mattress, cock going soft inside your body, still pulsing with every beat of his heart. 

Joel loves you so much. He tells you this as he drifts off to sleep, as that pretty, pinkish mixture of his spend and your blood drips down, down your thighs, seeping into the old towel underneath you. 

-

More dark daddy!joel here

Aaaaand kitty pics, cuz it’s been a while. If you enjoyed, please reblog with something sweet and horny or hop in my inbox and dirty talk me there :) your kind words keep me so motivated to write.

[peanutheaddd]

new peanuthead au 😭😭😭😭 cant stop putting these beasts into situations

extras + au deets below cut

essentially this au is where current petey and older petey switch bodies and they get up to various shenanigans . LOL . theres not That much of a plot and not much rlly changes perse . its just a silly situation .

current petey is after he starts living w dog man long enough such that they got a routine going . atp petey secretly likes how domestically hes been living and he has Not been handling that revelation well LMFAOOOO

older petey is married (probs about 10 years atp) + he basically just sent lil petey off to college before the switch and he was handling it poorly . LMFAO me when im in a struggling competition and my opponent is petey t cat

lil petey saved him and petey knows that Very Very well. caring for him became his new purpose and helped him turn his life sround so now that lil peteys off living his own life hes kinda lost and it freaks him out really badly . he misses his son so damn bad bru 😭😭😭😭 bro was not prepared for empty nester depsair

thats why he gets so emotional in the comic LOL . seeing lil petey as a little baby again is basically a dream come true for him . he misses baby lil petey so bad 😭😭😭😭

the switch happens bc (current) petey makes some new body switching invention boogaloo and he thinks that it didnt work and calls it a day but it Did work it just took effect overnight instead of immediately like he had expected . also the body switching invention was across universes instead of within a single world like he had intended. LMFAO His stupid baka life 😭😭😭

older dog man is retired at this point. hes also kinda mellowed out bc hes older . older dogs are chiller and that applies to dog man too LMFAO . he doesnt have the stamina to be that high energy anymore

older dog man can recognize the switch almost Instantly bc peteys demeanor is waaaaayyy too different and too similar to how he used to act 15 years ago .

older dog man tries 2 be understanding and give petey space bc he knows that hes not his petey anymore but he gets separation enxiety really bad and he misses his petey Really Really bad. especially bc atp lil peteys not living w them anymore so he js feels Really lonely. my goat 😭😭😭😭

older petey is having the time of his life. his baby is a baby again and his body is light and he doesnt have back pain anymore and he doesnt need glasses to see . however he Knows his dog man gets separation anxiety and needs his daily quota of physical touch (never underestimate a mf whose love language is ohysical touch) and he knows that the past him would Not give him that . so he Is having a good time but hes also constantly worrying about how his dog man is doing .

current petey meets older lil petey at some point and he feels a crushing sense of despair about it 😭😭😭 in my mind dog man comforts him and tells him his petey also didnt handle lil petey growing up very well .

eventually the two peteys sync up the body switching thingy and go back to their og worlds . i assume when they switch back older peteys reached peace abt his empty nest despair probs thanks to lil petey . and current petey has a bit of a different perspective on both dog man And lil petey . smth smth valuing the time he has w them Now. yah. #corny but thats how i like it YAYYYYYY

lil petey can immediately tell that older petey isnt His papa . he can do that in canon so he can do it here too lol . id assume it kinda confuses him tho bc he can tell its petey but hes too different to be PETEY ygwim

ok thats it i think

[sleeepydraws]

etiquette is a slightly awkward and annoying social lubricant that makes being in public nicer, actually

I feel like in the rush of “throw out etiquette who cares what fork you use or who gets introduced first” we actually lost a lot of social scripts that the younger generations are floundering without.

[tsukii0002]

Imagine that Mc is the only person capable of saying no to Diavolo normally, without any fear or consideration for his status. For example, imagine that when they were in the human world Diavolo proposes something grandiloquent and attention-grabbing, but Mc tells him firmly “No, Dia, we're not going to do that”. Or in the creation of a new event, the prince proposes to alter all the schedules to do something totally new and unknown, everyone is racking their brains to tell him it's not a good idea and the human just comes up to him and says “It's not a good idea, let's think of something else”.

And while all the demons around look at Mc with fear, reproach or disbelief. We have the future king of Devildom looking with heartfelt eyes at the human. Because in Devildom he can do anything, no one can deny him anything reasonable or not, most demons are unable to even show disagreement against him. But Mc is not afraid to speak their mind, they are not afraid to tell him how bad some ideas are, how dangerous or senseless they are, they are not afraid to go against him. And that just makes him, for once, feel like someone treats him as an equal, sees him as an equal. And that just makes the demon appreciate the human more and more.

Noble Demon: What do you see in that human, my lord?

Diavolo: *heart-shaped eyes* They tell me no.

Mc: *saluting him with a smile*

Diavolo: *sighing* They are perfect.

Noble Demon: ???

.

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Thanks for reading 🩷

.

.

[monzabee]

pleading the fifth - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: a rather... interesting complication happens when jack’s nanny is called to school by the principal. the only person who can save either of them? it's aaron, of course.  

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 2k 

Warnings:  yelling (kinda), poor Jack is punished without a reason, other than that none?  

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

You’d consider yourself a rather calm person—a pacifist, really. You don’t confront people, you don’t get unnecessarily angry, you can’t even recall a time you’ve raised your voice in public. But right now? Right now, you are trying your hardest not to bash the principal’s head into his desk as he stares you down. It’s a glorified staring contest between the two of you, with Jack as your unwilling audience and referee.  

When the school first called you to tell you should come into the principal’s office, you thought of the worst. The worst being Jack having an accident, or one of the crazy criminals his dad deals with escaping prison and somehow finding him—which should serve as a reminder for you to stop falling asleep to murder podcasts.  

But no. Instead, you find yourself in a situation so utterly ridiculous, so mind-bogglingly absurd, that you’re starting to wonder if Aaron spiked your morning coffee before he went into work as a juvenile prank. “You’re telling me,” you say slowly, pressing your palms against the desk, “that Jack is in trouble… because he didn’t answer a question in class?” 

“He was exhibiting disruptive behaviour, which hindered the ability of the other students in class to participate.” The principal explains, he’s an aging man with thinning hair and an ever-present scowl, folds his hands neatly in front of him and you find it hard to take him serious due to the absurdity of the situation.  

You blink. “Disruptive? He didn’t even talk!” 

“His silence, Miss Y/LN,” he points out, whilst he’s pointing at Jack, “was disruptive to other students.” 

Jack, sitting beside you, shifts uncomfortably in his chair. His little hands are folded in his lap, his lips pressed together in a firm line. He looks more annoyed than guilty. Your feel for him, for you know he’s not a bad kid, he’s the complete opposite, really. “But still. You called me down here because he didn’t want to answer a question?” 

“Yes,” the principal continues. “His teacher asked the students to share what their parents do for a living. When it was Jack’s turn, he refused to answer.” 

You glance at Jack. He meets your eyes and gives the tiniest shrug, as if to say Yeah, and?You return your attention to the principal. “With all due respect, I don’t see the issue here. Jack’s dad is a federal agent. Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it.” 

The principal sighs, rubbing his temples as if you’re the one being difficult. “Miss Y/LN, we encourage transparency in our students. Sharing personal details fosters a sense of community and trust within the classroom.” 

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline. “And you think forcing a child to disclose information about his father’s dangerous job is a healthy way to foster trust?” 

The principal’s scowl deepens. “It sets a precedent. When children refuse to participate, it encourages others to do the same. That’s not how we run things here.” 

Jack finally speaks up, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. “I did participate. I said, ‘I plead the Fifth.’” 

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. 

The principal looks unimpressed. “That’s not participation.” 

“Actually,” you say, unable to help yourself, “it’s a constitutional right.” 

Jack nods excitedly. “Exactly.” 

The principal rubs his temples. “Miss Y/LN, this is not a debate. We called you in because Jack’s response was disrespectful and set a bad example for his classmates.” 

“Oh, come on,” you say, exasperated. “He’s a seven-year-old, not a criminal. He didn’t swear, he didn’t insult anyone, he just chose not to disclose personal information about his father. And frankly, I think that’s smart.” 

“Oh, you misunderstood me—he talked about Mister Hotchner’s job.” The principal clarifies, “He refused to tell the class what his mother does as for a living.”  

You blink.  

Once. Twice.  

Slowly. 

Jack is still staring at his lap, clearly uncomfortable. The principal is watching you expectantly, like he’s waiting for you to snap your fingers and magically produce an answer that will satisfy him. You take a breath, steady and slow, before asking, “And did it not occur to you that Jack doesn’t have a mother?” 

The principal’s expression falters for just a second before he recovers. “Well, I—” 

“No, really,” you cut him off, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk. “What exactly were you expecting him to say? That she passed away? That she’s not in the picture? That it’s none of your business?”Jack’s fingers tighten around the hem of his shirt, his small shoulders hunching. “Because all of those things are true, and dare I say, this is just a great ground for a lawsuit.” 

“I—” The principal clears his throat. “We didn’t realize—” 

“Oh, you didn’t realize?” You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You’re an educator, and you didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, forcing a child to talk about a subject he’s uncomfortable with might be a bad idea?” 

The principal shifts uncomfortably. “Miss Y/LN, we were only trying to encourage openness. Jack could’ve explained it to class—” 

You’re done. You pull out your phone and hand it over to Jack. “Go out and call your father, tell him to come here as soon as he can.” 

And Jack, being the sweet and smart kid that he is, doesn’t hesitate for a second. He takes the phone with a small but satisfied smile, hops off his chair, and walks out of the office, pressing the call button as he goes. Once you’re satisfied he’s out the door, you turn back to the principal.  

The principal watches him leave, his jaw tightening. “Miss Y/LN, I don’t think involving Agent Hotchner is necessary—” 

You arch a brow, crossing your arms. “Oh? You don’t? Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like you want to discipline a child for not wanting to discuss his dead mother in front of his classmates.” 

The principal shifts in his chair. “That is not what I said—” 

“It’s exactly what you said.” You let out a slow breath, reigning in the urge to throw his stapler at him. “Look, Jack is a kid. A good one. He’s polite, he does his work, and he keeps to himself. If he chooses not to answer a personal question in class, that’s his right. And you know what else? If Aaron were here, I guarantee you he’d be saying the same thing—but with a lot less patience than I am.” 

Aaron Hotchner is used to walking into tense situations. In fact, he thrives in them. He’s spent years profiling criminals, negotiating with hostage-takers, and dissecting the minds of the most dangerous people in the country. But right now? Right now, as he takes in the scene before him—his son looking uneasy, you standing rigid with barely contained anger, and the principal sitting behind his desk with an expression that’s quickly morphing from smug authority to barely concealed nervousness—he knows exactly what kind of situation this is. 

It’s one that will not end well for the man in front of him, and not because he’s about to chew the principal out, but because you’re just as angry as he is.  

“I’d like to hear why my son was called in for disciplinary action.” His voice is calm. Even. But it has the weight of authority behind it—the kind that makes grown men break eye contact and shuffle in their seats.  

The principal straightens, clearing his throat as if that will make Aaron any less unimpressed. “Well, Agent Hotchner, I assure you this is simply a misunderstanding,” the principal starts, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Jack refused to participate in a classroom discussion, which we found to be disruptive.” 

Aaron’s jaw tightens. “Disruptive,” he repeats flatly. He’s aware that the look he gives the man is quite off-putting, but he couldn’t care less given that his son has been put on the spot. 

“Y-yes,” the principal continues. “We encourage transparency in our students, and when Jack chose not to share what his mother does for a living—” 

Aaron hears you scoff at the flimsy excuse the principal offers. He also hears the faint shuffling of clothes, and he doesn’t need to turn around to see that Jack has tucked himself over to your side. It’s a comforting thing that he does whenever he feels overwhelmed, and though the two of you have tried very hard to help him overcome this, he feels glad that Jack has you at the moment to bring him relief.  

“He doesn’t have a mother.” Aaron’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. Sharp. Final. He’s also very aware of the fact that your lips are curling in an unapproving way, and of the fact that this can be an uncomfortable topic for most. But why should his child be put in an uncomfortable situation by the very people who are supposedly tasked with his well-being. 

The principal falters. His mouth opens, then closes, before he manages a weak, “I wasn’t aware.” 

Aaron’s expression remains unreadable, but his tone drops, making his displeasure crystal clear. “Then maybe you should have been.” 

Beside him, you shift slightly, and when Aaron looks over the shoulder to you, you have your arms protectively around Jack as you level the principal with an unimpressed look. “That’s what I said.” 

Aaron almost smirks. Almost. But the sight also tugs at some of the strings of his heart. 

The principal stammers, scrambling to regain some semblance of control. “Agent Hotchner, I assure you—” 

“Assure me what?” Aaron interrupts smoothly. His voice remains even, but there’s a razor-sharp quality to it now. His annoyance is amplified due to the fact the he is back at looking at the middle age principal instead of his son and you, but he tries to remain as stoic as he can. “That you failed to consider the emotional well-being of a child under your care? That you thought coercing him into sharing deeply personal information was an acceptable way to foster ‘transparency’?” 

The principal swallows. “I—” 

Aaron doesn’t give him room to recover. “Jack is a child. A good child. If he chose not to answer a question, there was a reason for it. And instead of respecting that, you decided to make an issue of it. You called in his guardian, wasted her time, wasted my time, and most importantly, made my son feel like he did something wrong when he didn’t.”The principal’s face is rapidly losing color, and you find it highly amusing to watch Aaron tear him a new one as you absentmindedly stroke Jack’s hair. Aaron takes a step forward, just enough to make the older man shift uncomfortably in his chair. “Jack will not be receiving any disciplinary action for this. Furthermore, I expect a formal apology from both you and his teacher.” 

“Agent Hotchner, I—I don’t think that’s necessary—” 

“I do.” 

The silence in the room is suffocating. The principal, realizing he’s backed into a corner, nods stiffly. “Of course.” 

Jack may be young, but he isn’t oblivious. He understands things far too well for a child his age—has seen too much to be anything but painfully aware of the way the world works. And right now, he understands that the adults who were supposed to protect him in this environment have let him down. 

Aaron takes in a slow breath and releases it just as steadily. He won’t let this moment define Jack’s time here. He won’t let this school—this principal—become another source of stress in his son’s life. 

He turns his attention back to the man in front of him, watching the principal squirm under his gaze. “I trust this won’t be an issue again.” 

“No, sir.” The principal nods quickly, his hands folded tightly together on his desk. 

The final look Aaron gives the man is cold, and you’d be lying if it isn’t at least a little bit satisfying to watch. With the matter settled, Aaron turns to Jack, his face softening. “Let’s go.” 

Jack doesn’t hesitate. He hops off the chair and moves toward his father, but not before looking up at you. There’s something in his gaze—relief, maybe, or gratitude—and your heart clenches at the sight. 

You ruffle his hair playfully. “Come on, kid. Let’s get out of here before your dad arrests someone.” 

Aaron sighs. “I don’t arrest people for incompetence.” 

You smirk. “Pity.” 

[bambiihee]

5 or 10 with Hyunjin, whichever fits him more eeek >.< ALSO CONGRATULATIONS FOR 500 ♡♡♡♡♡♡

TONGUE TIED༚ ── h.hj

your new boyfriend eats you out for the first time.

▸ PAIRING༚ 황현진 x fem!reader ▸ WC༚ 1. 2 k ▸ GENRE༚ just straight filthy smut, some fluff, pwp ▸ WARNINGS༚ NSFW, MDNI! est. relationship, oral sex (f. rec), vaginal fingering, first time oral, munch!hyune, soft dom!hyunjin, dirty talk, praise kink, lots of pet names

[ note༚ ] part two of fifteen for my 500 followers event!

5. "No. I'm supposed to be making you feel good."

“R-really? Um... are you sure?” you mumble, hesitant and nervous, fighting the overwhelming urge to close your legs— you’re fairly sure you couldn’t anyway, even if you tried, with how roughly Hyunjin was gripping onto your thighs. “You really don’t have to if you don’t want to—“

“I do want to.” he breathes against your skin, eyes blown out wide, irises darker than night, staring down at your bare pussy with a hunger you’ve never seen quite so intense before. Licking his lips as if he was craving your taste on his tongue. “Fuck, I want to so bad, baby, please, can I? I’ll make you feel so good, I promise…” 

The thumb that had been rubbing comforting circles into your inner thigh glides down to press gently at your clit— you keen, wet sticky folds fluttering, your thighs shuddering on either side of your boyfriend’s head. You were far from a virgin, but Hyunjin never failed to make you feel like one; in just the few short months you've been dating he's made you feel pleasure you didn’t think was possible, so unbelievably enthusiastic in giving it to you as good as he can… and when you had brought up that you had never been eaten out before, all of your exes’ repulsed by the idea, Hyunjin couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity to introduce you to something new. 

He swore to you that eating pussy was one of his most favorite things in the world, but you weren’t quite sure if you believed him. It sounded ridiculous.

“Wh-what if I... don’t taste good, or something?” you cringe. To your horror, Hyunjin actually laughs, the sharp exhales of his breath fanning across your heated skin.  

“Oh, Babydoll... I’ve been wanting to get my mouth on you since I met you. Can’t believe no one’s ever ate this pretty pussy, it's so fuckin’ wet for me… you want my tongue, don’t you baby?” his thumb dips down lower, the pad of it teasing at your hole. Your pussy fluttered from the feeling, dribbling slick and so achingly empty, the barely-there pressure making you whine high in your throat. You’ve played this game before, your boyfriend ever so predictable— Hyunjin won’t give it to you until you ask him to, and you better ask him nicely.  

“Jinnie, please…” you whimper, resolve all but disintegrating when he shoots you a crooked grin and presses his index and middle finger up against your entrance.

“Please what, love?” your little hole started to open up around the pads of his fingers, not dipping in entirely quiet yet— it was nowhere near enough, the ghost of a stretch, teasing you with memories of his cock parting your walls…  

“Fuck, I... want your mouth, want your fingers— please, please, please!” 

“That's my good girl~” Hyunjin drawls, voice almost at a growl, and he dives in without warning— you’re assaulted with the feeling of his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue sliding hot and heavy between your folds, long thick fingers diving into your cunt and curling against your sweet spot just right. You cry out sharply, toss your head back against the pillows, completely overwhelmed by all of the sensations; you can feel him smirking against your cunt. 

His fingers fuck into you nice and slow, filling you up so deep, pulling you towards the edge with practiced ease, the pleasure almost unbearable but in the most delicious way... a stark contrast to how harshly he sucked at your clit, pouty lips swollen and mouth hot and wet, ecstasy unlike anything you’ve felt before rolling through your body sharp like electricity, so so good it’s almost painful— you shriek when he changes angles, thrusts his fingers a little faster, a little harder, and you push hard at his head until he pulls off of your cunt. He seems to have some serious trouble getting your pussy out of his mouth.

“What’s the matter, doll? Don’t like it?” Hyunjin asks gently, handsome face flushed pink, his lips and chin wet with your arousal, his fingers still buried deep in your tight hole… you whimper at the sight of him, thick thighs still shaking from the aftershocks. 

“T-too much, Jinnie.” your pussy throbbed, clit pulsated, the knot in your belly tight— he coos, just condescending enough to make you clench around his fingers, and he presses a chaste, wet kiss to your inner thigh.    

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, I've got you— pussy tastes so fucking good, shit, can’t hold myself back..” he gently pulls his fingers out, watches in rapture at how your folds quiver and dribble slick, “You're doing so good, honey, just lie back and feel good~” 

“I... taste good?” you echo in a small voice. 

 “Mhm. Perfect lil cunt for me,” Hyunjin stares longingly at your twitching pussy like he misses it, huffing the deep breaths he denied himself when he was buried between your thighs. “Need you on my mouth again, taste so addicting, holy shit— I’ll be gentler this time baby, I promise, just gotta make you cum in my mouth. Please? Gonna make you cum so fuckin’ hard, gotta taste it when you do—“

He dives back in again before you can stop him, pushing your thighs up roughly until they hit your chest; you've never felt this exposed before, every inch of your most intimate areas spread open for Hyunjin to see, touch, taste, worship. You can't hold back your surprised squeal when he shoves his tongue in your hole as deep as it could go, the sensation so alien but feeling better than you could have ever even imagine. He eats you like a starved animal, tongue and lips everywhere all at once, grunting and groaning into your heat like he was the one receiving pleasure and not you-- the wet smacking noises makes your face burn, so filthy and obscene you could hardly stand hearing it, but your cunt throbs and pulsates as if it was begging for more, more, more.

Hyunjin gives it to you. He gives you everything, his fuzzy buzz cut tickling the insides of your thighs and adding to the growing fire in your belly.

Focusing so hard on your hole, your little swollen clit feels neglected-- it's the extra spark of pleasure you need to reach your climax, so close but so far away, and you find yourself reaching down before you even realize you were moving.

Hyunjin catches you instantly, siren eyes locking up onto yours before he grabs your wrist in an iron grip, tugging your hand away sharply without ever once disconnecting himself from your pussy. "Nuh-uh. Greedy girl." he chides, barely understandable with his mouth full, tongue sliding out of your hole to lick broad stripes between your folds. "I'm supposed to be the one making you feel good, remember? Keep those hands up where I can see them."

He releases your wrist for you to tangle your fingers back into the bedsheets, arms limp at your sides-- you're rewarded with a harsh suck to your clit, Hyunjin's teeth grazing over your engorged nub just enough to make you jolt.

You whimper, fucked out, confused, and a little surprised; Hyunjin hardly ever acts like this, so controlling, so focused on pleasuring you that he just wants you to stay still and take it. Maybe he does like eating pussy as much as he says he does.

[shroomyv]

ᢉ𐭩GOOD BOY(‘S) [1]

Pairing: mark grayson x sinister mark x Mohawk mark x viltrumite mark x F!reader (god damn)

Synopsis: been awhile since the invincible war ended. A few of them ended up being captured in your world and kept in the prisons. Cecil allows you to visit them and (clearly) has not a damn clue as to what you’re saying or doing with them. Usually, it’d be complete chaos and nothing would change or happen in the room. However, you finally try something new with them…all of them…(should be good to mention here that you have powers…if u didn’t you’d honestly be stupid going into that room with confidence 🧍🏾‍♀️)

Warnings: story will lead to smut, slightly suggestive, harsh words (like bitch, pussy, or slut), not proofread, some corny dialogue (bear with me pls)

W.c: 2,086 (rlly doing my big one)

A/N: (there’s alot I have to say so pls bear with me 😭) first off, thank all of u for all the constant support on my other fics and even my shitty little doodles I posted. Means a lot to me. This is my first series/series writing and it’s also the first fic I’ve made with multiple ppl speaking let alone mark variants. So I’m begging you, please bear with me. If anything is overly fucking terrible or bad feel free to dm me advice. Also I’ll be making a master list soon for all my writings. Or wtv. This is part one to the series and it’ll get super smutty in the next one so I hope u js enjoy this one for now. It’ll be meh…(I highkey think it’s bad but wtv)

Long after the Invincible War, you were still intrigued by all the versions of your boyfriend that had come into your world to reek havoc and chaos. Most were dead, some were in prison, and some were thrown into whatever place they went to. Being a superpowered scientist under Cecil had its perks–you got to not only examine and see these variants, but you also got to speak to them (only with the supervision of your world's Mark of course). Your visits grew more and more frequent to them, it went from once a month, to once a week, to 3 times a week. They had memorized the times you visited, the clack of your heels, and your pen clicking before you entered their cell each time.

Your Mark always complained–sometimes it was genuine concern for your safety and reasoning, other times, it was clear and blatant jealousy. 

“Why do you always want to go see those bastards, they almost destroyed the entire world. Not only that one of them almost crushed you to fucking death! If this gets too bad we're not seeing them again…” he was annoyed–making good and fair points. Sadly, you were too stubborn to attempt to listen to them. 

“You've almost crushed me to death before,” you said with a shrug as you kept walking down the long hall getting ready to get to the cell that held the marks. 

“WHAT!? When was this?” Mark had stopped for a second now having genuine concern as he hadn't remembered ever doing that. He tried his best to make sure you were protected from anything and everything.

“You crushed me plenty of times in bed–it's ok though because I've crushed you back just as much so we're even.” you had one smug ass smirk on your face seeing Mark's annoyed one before you two finally made it to the room. Before you could swipe your keycard to enter the room, Mark grabbed your arm having you stop and listen to what he had to say. “I'm serious babe…let them get out of line and we aren't seeing them again, they'll just rot in here till Cecil finds something to do with them.” 

You used your free hand, swiping the keycard as the door opened. You turned to your mark lifting his chin with your pen as he looked prepared to hear whatever you had to say. 

“I will decide when this research is over. However, you know if you want it to truly end and for me to stay out of this cell, you would only need to tell Cecil you won't accompany me anymore. Until you do that…we're continuing.” 

You were stern and stubborn, meaning every single word you said. You finally pulled the pen down—giving his cheek a soft kiss before walking into the cell.

“Well, we see who wears the pants in your little relationship.” The mark with the mohawk said before he just started laughing trying to bother and mock your mark as best as he could. 

“Hey well at least I get to leave here, I'm not locked in a fucking cell with my arms hanging up!” your mark snarled back–getting closer to Mohawk Mark as they glared each other down.

Sinister Mark cut into the conversation, having a lot worse to say about your mark and his “submission” to you. 

“Hey, does she fuck you too? I just wanna get a full scope on how pussy you are! God, you're pathetic…weak…” 

They were being little assholes ganging up against your mark, all besides the viltrumite one. He was just silent, observing your behaviors. As those 3 bickered,  you walked up to him with crossed arms.

“Nothing to say?” You asked leaning in closer to his face. He backed up as best as he could, struggling to even move a bit because of his restraints but he found small ways. 

“No…bitch…” he said before scrunching up his lips. You just leaned into him closer and closer knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. “Don’t your people have a thing for respecting higher-ups? Am I not higher up right now?” You were absolutely smug watching as his expression kind of dropped. He knew you were right and he hated every bit about it. 

The cell was silent now…the other marks wondered why he stopped fighting back, falling silent. 

“Don’t tell me you're all pussy now too!?” Mohawk Mark had said in a snarky tone. Your mark was walking up to you to pull you back from him. You raised your hand stopping him from coming closer as you used your other hand, softly rubbing viltrumite Mark'sk'sace. 

He jolted from your touch for a second—not being used to anything like it at all. However, he had been in that cold cell for days, weeks even, with no warmth whatsoever. He melted into your hand as you kept rubbing it softly—he felt odd…like he had never felt before. He released soft huffs the whole time until you finally stepped back. 

“W..wait-“ he exclaimed trying to get your attention again. Before he could even say what he wanted, sinister Mark butted in.

“What the hell did you just do to him!? He’s never been like that ever!” 

Your mark wanted to be filled in as well, waiting for your response.

“I just touched 'em relax.” You were honestly shocked yourself. 

“C'monn…let’s go, your mark said wanting to get the hell out of there. The other marks were getting angry and you were touching another mark…one that wasn’t yours—it made him a bit jealous. 

                                      

“Wait wait…I wanna something…” you said with a grin as you rushed to Mohawk Mark. He looked a bit annoyed but intrigued. You drew closer and closer as the other marks watched once again—it’s all they could do…

“Listen whore, I’m not your mark…so hands off.” He said in a snarky tone. You just kept moving your hands towards his face not giving a damn, you were testing every ounce of patience he had.

“I will fucking bite you! I promise it…” Mohawk Mark tried to move his head back as quickly as he could to get away from your hand. Eventually, it landed right on his forehead before moving upward, softly stroking his hair. He tried to bite you for a second so you used your powers. With a hard glare from your eyes, his body was paralyzed in mere seconds as you rubbed it softly. You released your hold on his body just as fast as you used it.

You kept stroking his head, you saw him moving his head forward as best as he could so you could keep going. Your other hand reached up to his face, squishing it softly before you began to stroke it. He let out a noise of pure satisfaction…a soft moan. As soon as he realized, you backed up satisfied with your work on his behavior. He went from snarling and snapping to melting in your hand.

Your mark grabbed your shoulder, making a notation to get the hell out of there. You just gave him a soft kiss trying to keep him satisfied as you had one more mark to deal with. You knew your mark was getting jealous quickly so you had to hurry it up.

As soon as you walked over to sinister mark in his restraints he spat on your face. The other marks watched waiting to see what happened your mark dashed over to you as he began a screaming match with sinister mark. 

Ignoring them and all their noise, you just spat right back on his face as the room fell silent. You were even now—the only difference was you could wipe the spit off of your face but he couldn’t get it off of his. Your hand reached up to his face as he prepared to bite you but you flicked his nose before continuing. You rubbed his hair—making it messy in mere seconds before you looked him dead in the eyes, smiling warmly.

“I promise you, if you ever spit on my face again I will break your face in.”

Your mark was just frozen in the spot waiting for this interaction to finish. Sinister Mark's eyes widened a bit before going back to normal—he was surprised at how you could look so gentle while threatening him. 

“Yes bitch…” he said in a snarky tone trying to get some power back in the situation. You smiled before pinching and twisting at his nose. He couldn’t do a single damn thing about it.

“Huh? What’d you say?” You waited for him to change his manner of speaking. Your mark reached to pull your arm down as you 2 shared a look. He was trying to figure out what you were even doing but you gave him a glance that said you could handle it.

“Yes…ma’am” sinister Mark said in an annoyed tone this was basically his version of surrendering defeat. Your hand went to his face stroking it just like you did to the others. At first he acted like he didn’t give a single fuck about you or your touch—seconds later he was melted into your cheek moving his own face to have it happen faster. You stroked his face slower and began scratching his hair as Mohawk Mark began complaining how that wasn’t fair. Sinister mark was losing himself—lifting his chin to have that touch and rubbed to. He bit his lip trying to keep in any sounds he would’ve made but eventually one slipped out.

“F…fuck…” he moaned out roughly before you moved your hand away from him

“Good boy.” You said back with bliss in your voice. You honestly felt aroused by the fact you had 4 Marks folding for you just at the simple touch of your hand and sternness in your voice.

“God…what did she do to us…” Viltrumite Mark said sounding embarrassed or even frustrated that that even happened. The other Marks (sinister and Mohawk) just told him to “fuck off” as they kept their heads down in a bit of shame. They were absolutely in shock at how they folded that fast but knew they wanted more. They were pissed that they clearly weren’t getting more.

You had them fold enough for the day. Plus, your Mark looked like he wanted to snap sinister Mark's neck for spitting on you. He was tired of being in that damn room for the day. Your mark grabbed you by the waist giving you a look that said “You needed to leave” You just nodded and let him lead you out of the cell. You and your mark left the cell making your way out of the building. Mark was flying you 2 home as he wanted to talk about what the hell happened. 

“So…what was that..” he asked in a genuine and jealous tone. He wanted to know what was up with all of it. Why did you guys keep going back, why were you touching them, how did you make them fold that easily? He wanted answers…

“Honestly…I don’t know. I didn't even think it’d work on the viltrumite one but as soon as it did I just had to try it on the rest of them and it worked. Guess you’re just weak for me in every universe?” You gave the best answer you could to your mark waiting for his response.

“Not gonna lie…I was a bit jealous. They practically killed everyone and now they wanted to fold just cause you touched them!” Mark exclaimed before you kissed his face softly. He had calmed down quickly just from your lips. 

“Relax... you're the one who gets to take me home. You win either way. However...I do need you to take me back there tomorrow. It’s something I wanna do with you there. All of you…” you had something a little sinister and against the rules on your mind.

“Again!? What is it…I’m so sick of that place…” your mark wanted to know what you’d do if you went back. He was tired of going there and honestly was ready to never go back again. However, he was trying his best to trust your judgment and see where it’d go. 

“Don’t worry about it…just know that you’ll have fun. All of you, trust me. You said with a smile before Mark finally landed, bringing you two to your house. You had plans…foul plans…and you couldn’t wait to put them into action tomorrow. 

[ivyues]

Paws off my Human! - Seungmin

Meeting your dog was more difficult than Seungmin thought.

After weeks of talking about it, you were finally introducing Seungmin to your dog, Mochi. You had hyped this moment up so much in your head – imagining a sweet, heartwarming encounter where your two favorite beings in the world would instantly click. But there was one problem.

Dogs just… weren’t that into Seungmin.

It wasn’t like they disliked him, but they never seemed to gravitate towards him the way they did with most people. While his friends had dogs practically falling over themselves to get their attention, Seungmin would always get a passive glance before they trotted off somewhere else. It was an ongoing joke, and one Seungmin had accepted with an exaggerated sigh.

Still, you had hope. Mochi was your dog, and maybe that would make a difference.

“Okay, Mochi,” you said, crouching down to your fluffy companion. “This is Seungmin. Be nice.”

Seungmin knelt beside you, his usual confident expression softening into something almost shy. “Hey there, Mochi,” he said, stretching out a hand cautiously.

Mochi sniffed Seungmin’s fingers for a second, and for a brief, shining moment, you thought that maybe – just maybe – this would be the exception. That Mochi would sense how much Seungmin meant to you and would accept him right away.

Instead, Mochi simply blinked, turned his head, and promptly walked away.

You tried to suppress a laugh as Seungmin stared after him, blinking in disbelief. “Are you serious?” he muttered. “I didn’t even do anything!”

You patted his shoulder sympathetically. “He’s just playing hard to get.”

“I didn’t even want his attention that much,” Seungmin huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s not like I care or anything.”

You raised a brow. “Uh-huh. That’s why you’re pouting?”

“I am not pouting,” he grumbled, but the way he glanced at Mochi – who had now plopped down on his favorite blanket, facing the other way – told a different story.

Defeated, Seungmin sighed. “I don’t understand. I’m practically a dog myself.”

Feeling a bit bad for your boyfriend, you decided to step in. “Mochi loves treats,” you suggested. “Want to try giving him one?”

Seungmin exhaled, then nodded. “Alright, fine. I’ll win him over.”

You handed him a treat, and he carefully approached Mochi again. “Okay, listen, little guy,” he said, holding out the snack. “I know we got off to a rough start, but let’s be friends, yeah?”

Mochi eyed the treat, then Seungmin. After a long pause, he finally took it from his hand, chewing happily. Your heart warmed at the sight of Seungmin’s expression – like he had just won a hard-fought battle.

“See?” you grinned. “He just needed a little bribery.”

Seungmin scoffed. “I don’t bribe, I negotiate.”

You laughed, watching as Mochi, after finishing his treat, hesitantly nudged Seungmin’s knee before settling back down. It wasn’t instant love, but it was progress.

Seungmin smirked, clearly pleased. “Told you I’d win him over.”

You rolled your eyes fondly and leaned against his shoulder. “Sure, puppy boy.”

He groaned at the nickname, but you caught the small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe Mochi wasn’t the only one playing hard to get.

Feeling content, you turned your head slightly towards Seungmin, the warmth of the moment making you want to steal a quick kiss. Just as you moved in, Mochi suddenly barked – loud and sharp.

Startled, you pulled back, wide-eyed. Seungmin let out an amused scoff, glancing at the unimpressed fluffball.

“Wow,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Not only do I have to win you over, but now I have to get permission to be affectionate with her?”

You patted his head, suppressing a giggle. “Maybe he sees you as a rival.”

Seungmin shook his head, shooting a wary look at Mochi. “Fine. But for the record, I’m not scared of you,” he told the dog.

Mochi responded by yawning dramatically before turning away again.

You smiled, squeezing Seungmin’s hand. “Looks like you’ve still got some work to do.”

Seungmin groaned. “I can’t believe I have to compete with a dog.”

---

Weeks later, after many failed attempts on Seungmin’s part to win Mochi over, you decided that a walk together might help with their bonding. The crisp spring air was refreshing as the three of you strolled through the park, but the sun weakly peeked through the flowering trees.

Mochi trotted happily by your side, tail wagging with every step, while Seungmin walked a little further from him, hands in his pockets, feigning indifference.

“You know,” you teased, glancing at your boyfriend, “you don’t have to act so cool about it. It’s okay to admit you want Mochi to like you.”

Seungmin scoffed, shaking his head. “I really don’t care that much.”

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Right.”

After a bit more walking, you decided to give Seungmin the leash. “Here, try holding it,” you offered, placing the leash in his hands.

Seungmin hesitated but took it, looking down at Mochi expectantly. “Alright, come on, let’s go.”

Mochi, however, didn’t budge.

Seungmin frowned and gave the leash a gentle tug. “Mochi?”

Mochi simply turned his head to the side, stubbornly planting his paws into the ground.

Seungmin groans. “What am I supposed to do? Drag him?”

You shake your head. “Try convincing him.”

Seungmin kneels down beside Mochi. “Okay, listen. I know we didn’t start off great, but I have treats, and I will literally carry you home if I have to. Your choice.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Seungmin let out an exasperated sigh as Mochi still didn’t move. “Is your dog broken?”

“He just doesn’t respect you yet,” you said, grinning. “Give it a second.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “Or maybe he’s just bad-mannered.”

At that, you crouched slightly and clapped your hands. “Come on, Mochi, go with Seungmin.”

Mochi perked up at your voice, then, without warning, bolted forward – leash in Seungmin’s hand.

“Whoa—hey!” Seungmin yelped as he was yanked forward, stumbling slightly as he struggled to keep up with the determined fluffball. You burst into laughter, watching as your dog enthusiastically led a very reluctant Seungmin down the path.

You jogged to catch up, laughing breathlessly at the sight of your usually composed boyfriend being dragged along by a fluffy ball of energy. "I think he likes you now!"

Seungmin shot you a glare over his shoulder, though the corners of his lips twitched in amusement. "Yeah? Then why is he trying to kill me?"

---

You returned one afternoon to your appartment, running late. You knew your boyfriend would already be there so you expected to find him grumbling about Mochi’s latest act of indifference or Mochi keeping his usual distance. Instead, you were met with an entirely different sight.

Seungmin was fast asleep on your couch.

His long legs were stretched out, one arm resting behind his head, the other draped lazily over his stomach. His chest rose and fell steadily, his usually sharp features softened in slumber. The peaceful expression on his face made your heart flutter – he looked so unguarded like this, completely at ease in your space.

But what really caught your attention was Mochi.

Curled up at Seungmin’s feet, your fluffy companion had tucked himself against your boyfriend’s legs, his small body rising and falling in sync with Seungmin’s breath. The sight was almost comical – after all the times Mochi had rejected Seungmin’s affection, he had unknowingly sought comfort in him now.

You clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. Of course, the one time Mochi willingly snuggled up to Seungmin, he had no idea it was happening.

Careful not to wake them, you tiptoed closer, pulling out your phone. There was no way you weren’t capturing this moment. With the softest tap of your finger, you snapped a picture – one that you were sure to tease Seungmin with later.

masterlist

[kiwisa]

Romcom Worthy ✪ LN04

━━━━ PAIRING ! Lando Norris x Fan! Fem! Reader

IN WHICH... A face reveal turns your life upside down.

Liked by lando and others

yourusername Lando wins the Australian Grand Prix !!! He's now leading the championship. Mark my words, it's coming home this year 🧡✴️

1 hour ago

user1 23min FUCK YESSSS

user2 1h a great day to be a papaya stan 🥭🧡✴️ ♥︎ liked by author

user3 47min OMG GIRL HE LIKED

user4 19min he notices Y/N like three times a week yourusername 10min and yet it never gets old user4 8min tell me about it girl omg i wish i knew how it feels yourusername 3min manifesting this for you girlie 🧎🤲🏼

user5 37min if we don't win this year i'll kms

yourusername 17min noooo don't kill yourself your so sexy aha (same.)

user6 1h the way you posted before McLaren... DEDICATION.

user7 1h McLaren's CM works hard but Y/N works harder ♥︎ liked by author

user8 3min Meanwhile Oscar is still mowing the Australian grass as we speak

Liked by lando and others

yourusername Still can't believe this happened. Thank you McLaren for the invitation and congratulations to Lando for P2 !!! We're leading the championship, baby !!! 🧡✴️

2 hours ago

user1 2h CONGRAAAAAATS YOU DESERVE IT SO MUCH 😭 (i've never been so jealous in my entire life)

user2 2h omgggg is that lando in the last pic??? girl you're living the life

yourusername 2h my hands were shaking so bad

user3 1h beauty privilege is wild frr

user4 49min pls let's not erase the fact that she is the biggest Lando update account on this platform. it was bound to happen either way.

mclaren 34min It was a pleasure to show you around the paddock, Y/N! ♥︎ liked by author

yourusername 31min Thank you so much guys!! You made my dreams come true 🧡

user5 1h you already got the wag look down

user5 1h GUYS LANDO LIKED MY COMMENT?????!!!! OMMGGGGG

lando 2h Too bad we couldn't talk more ♥︎ liked by author

yourusername 2h Perhaps next time!! lando 2h I'll hold you to that ♥︎ liked by author user6 2h look at her being all composed and shit but we all know she's dying inside user7 1h he commented so fast omgggggg chill lando frr the post is not going anywhere user8 1h why are they flirting??? chat am i the only one seeing this? user9 42min no no you're not @/user8 i feel like i'm intruding

user10 21min How does it feel to live my dreams?

user11 17min guys smile we are witnessing history

Conversation 218 Comments

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Marylin 27 March, 2025

For fuck's sake. Let people live in peace. They don't need you to comment every aspect of their life.

Johann 27 March, 2025 You do that OP. Meanwhile, the rest of us will enjoy life and bask together in this drama straight out of a fanfic.

Paul 27 March, 2025

It's so hard seeing other people live my dream.

Liked by lando and others

yourusername Getting the news directly from the source now !! 🧡✴️

1 hour ago

user1 1h just woke up and oomf is dating my fav driver might just go back to sleep and pray to never wake up

user2 1h the hardest launch that ever launched

yourusername 1h what's a soft launch? never heard of her.

lando 1h Love you 🧡✴️ ♥︎ liked by author

yourusername 1h Love you too 🧡 user3 1h omg he used her emoji combos 🥹🥹 user4 47min god we're so chronically online it's embarrassing user3 38min y/n was chronically online and looks where that got her. so excuse me but i'll continue. ♥︎ liked by author

user5 21min Y/N doing god's work and giving every fangirl hope they can date their fav

user6 1h What in the fanfic is this???

mclaren 10min Cannot wait to see you back in our garage! ♥︎ liked by author

user7 19min imagine if she hadnt posted her face reveal??? the way her life would be so different rn

user8 1h she better not distract him from winning the season

user9 1h Y/N would literally breakup with Lando if it meant securing his and McLaren's wins ♥︎ liked by author

user10 5min They better adapt this story into a romcom. The material is right there.