#the ONLY thing that is TOP about him is his two kids

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"ONE STEP TWO STEP THREE STEP OW!"

Synopsis: Young weird Neglected black!reader can't waltz and Bruce won't dance with you but Mr. Oliver Queen can teach you a few moves

You love galas, like really, really love galas: the architecture of the buildings, which could look Roman or Victorian; the bright chandeliers that glimmer like little stars; the intricate details on every piece of furniture and wall-to-door; the gold accents and trim. It's all just perfect. It feels like you're a princess on a special stage, like you're in a musical and you're the lead star, ready to burst into song after only two lines and do a comedic dance number. The men and women dressed elegantly, with jewels and watches from their great-great-grandparents that they took for granted, replacing heirlooms like loose change. Speaking in posh accents over champagne, they talked about their trips around the world or petty politics, using big words they never used before. It just makes you giggle, but you loved nothing more than the band's music. You'd clap after every performance, and the composer would always take a bow for you. But the thing you loved most of all was the dancing—how the women's dresses would sway as they waltzed and how the men would spin the ladies around adoringly. It was like you were living in the movie Anastasia. And you wanted to dance, to move like them, but you never knew how. It's only been a couple of months since you were integrated into this aristocratic lifestyle, and yet you know every little. Alfred tried to teach you everything there was to being classy, but the old man was far too busy teaching the boys how to behave at galas, so you had to work it out on your own. Alfred taught you a few waltz steps, but not the whole thing, so when it came to dancing, you were hopeless, like a duckling with feet too big for its body. But when the announcer at the gala told the fathers to dance with their daughters, you thought this was your shot—your shot to dance with Bruce, for him to teach you the moves, for you two to bond like you were meant to. I mean, you are his little girl; he should be running to you right about now, ready to put your little feet on top of his as he guides you and teaches you how to waltz. But Bruce doesn't show up. You looked around to see that every little girl and older girl was holding her dad's hand, stepping on his toes, and twirling around like princesses, except you. Everyone had a partner except you. You pushed past the happy fathers and daughters to find him, only to see that he had picked someone else. He was doing the waltz with Cass; they were laughing as she struggled to grasp the steps. You couldn't hear what they were saying due to the chatter of the room, but you knew they were having the time of their lives. But that didn't bother you; you would just wait for your turn, like a kid on a swing set watching the other kids take their merry-old-time. You can just wait and wait and wait, staring at the two. They looked so happy and energetic. You wouldn't lie; you were a tad bit jealous. I mean, you were younger than Cass; you were his little girl; you should have had that dance, not her. But jealousy wouldn't take you anywhere; you just had to wait your turn. They almost looked related; maybe it was the dark black hair or the pale skin. You looked at yourself and began to feel like an outcast. You nervously fixed your dress, pulling at the purple frills. Almost everyone in the blow room was white. Maybe Bruce just didn't want to be seen with you; maybe he was embarrassed. You shook your head— that couldn’t be the reason. Don’t be stupid; just be patient. Yeah, that's right—patient. You can be patient. But as you watched Cass lean her head on his shoulder, it should be you. You saw Bruce place his chin on her hair, and if you weren't jealous before, you certainly were now. You waited long enough, so you walked up to them and tugged on Bruce's suit.

"Hey," you squeaked, your voice sounding like a mouse. You started to fiddle with your fingers.

"I was waiting a bit, and I wanted to know if I could dance with you," you mumbled gently. He looked down at you; blue eyes shining like bright diamonds.

"Not right now, [Name]." He dismissed you like a secretary at Wayne Enterprises.

"But it's a father-daughter dance, and I've been waiting for a while now." Your voice trembled, and you started to feel yourself get angry.

"[Name], you're starting to act childish," he whispered. When he whispered like that, he was trying to hide his anger.

"But I've been waiting for an hour; it's just not fair," You saw him glare at you and stopped talking. You felt yourself shrink, getting smaller and smaller, but you weren't shrinking; you were just getting scared.

You stormed off walking right out the gala you felt angry furious even then you felt a familiar clench in your throat it was strong so very strong it made you want to cough you knew thar feeling better then anyone else you were going to cry so sat you sat on the pearly white steps and let those baby tears flow then you felt a rough hand on your shoulder you yelped out in fear and you swiftly moved away looking up from the ground to see a tall blonde hair man with bright emerald green eyes

"Hey, I don't bite," he chuckled, standing tall in front of you. You still kept your distance and sat down on the steps.

"So why are you out here all alone while everyone's having fun?" he said with a soft smile. You wiped your face and puffed out your chest, trying to look tough, but you were just a girl, and plus, he was a stranger. You shouldn't talk to strangers, but you were lonely, and your "dad" would rather dance with Cass than you.

"I was supposed to have a daddy-daughter dance with my dad, but he's too busy dancing with my older sister," you sniffled, grumbling just a little.

"Oh, you want to dance? Don't you think it's a bit silly?" he asked, and it made you frown.

"It's not silly!" You raised your voice, then lowered it to a whisper.

"It's lovely—the music, the fancy steps. It's all just lovely, like being in a movie," you explained, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Tonight, he was going to teach me how to waltz," you huffed. You heard the blonde man chuckle. How dare he make fun of you! You were about to let out a mean quip when he spoke.

"You can't waltz?" he said, holding back a chuckle and covering his mouth with a hand that looked calloused and rough, as if he'd been hitting drywall.

"Don't laugh!" you whined, annoyed.

"I'm not; it's just super easy to do," the older man said with a smirk.

"Well, I wouldn't know; I've never done it before." You felt a pout coming, and you quickly tried to hide it.

"Wait, you've never waltzed before?" he said, looking at you confusedly. Someone of your status should at least know the basics.

"Never" you answered

"Never ever?"

"Never in history." You felt yourself wanting to cry. Then he smiled down at you and stood up.

"Come on, I'll teach you. There are no perks to being a wallflower." His hands reached out, and you saw the little scars on his hand. With nothing better to do, you took his, and he led you back into the gala. He held your hand and hip gently.

"All you have to do is step in the square," he intruded, and you followed his steps from down to side, to up, and side to down again. Then he twirled you around, making you giggle. You felt like a princess, finally, until you stepped on his foot. He winced, and it made you snort. He gave you a fake glare, the older man smirking.

"You never told me your name?"

"You never told me yours?" he said, and you glared at him.

"I'm [Name], [Name] Wayne," you answered confidently.

"A Wayne?" he said, shocked.

"What's wrong with being a Wayne?" You huffed.

"Nothing. I don't get along with Wayne very well; they tend to get on my nerves," he admitted with a sigh.

"Tell me about it," you agreed.

"Anyway, I'm Oliver Queen's friend. Call me Ollie, and your dad calls me a bastard," and you laughed.

"Nice to meet you, Ollie," you smiled up at him gently. You wondered if you should switch dads like playing cards. Little did you know, Bruce was in the corner seething at the sight of Ollie making you laugh and giggle and twirling you around. He almost broke his champagne glass. He didn't want to cause a scene, but he was close to crashing out and having it be posted on Twitter. He was searching for you, ready to apologize and give you your dance, but there you were, letting someone like Oliver have the dance. He'll make sure to deal with that blonde later.

[straows]

𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 + 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧.

𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘹… ME! 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘹 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘥𝘰.

You had a big ass. There was no denying it. I mean you had the pear body shape n everything. And Gojo Satoru, loved it.

He’s got you bent over the couch arm, your tits pressed against the cushion and your hips propped up by the arm rest, you back arched down perfectly.

And Gojo was fucking you like he hated you. And you’d think he did if it wasn’t for him moaning and whining and whimpering, “oh f-fuck- baby I love you sooo much,” he’d only fuck you deeper, squeezing the fat of your hips as he angled his hips down and fucked up into you, “ain’t never let- mmn- letting you leave me.”

He’d groan and lean over you pressing bites, kisses and hickies all down your spine and your shoulders. All while his hands would be kneading and spreading your ass. Practically foaming at the mouth as he watch it recoil.

You’d be moaning under him, nails digging into the couch. Even if you tried to close your mouth to hide your moans or stuff your face into the couch, your puss was loud enough for the both of you.

You were so wet, practically dripping. No resistance, not even with how tight you squeezed around him. It had Gojo’s hips stuttering and a moan breaking through his clenched jaw.

“Don’t squeeze me like- fuck baby, it’s not fair.” He whined, his cock throbbing inside of you as he grabbed your shoulder and began to slam into you. Absolutely wrecking you. His tip might as well been breaking the wall of your cervix.

Even the couch was moving, you would’ve laugh because it almost shot forward if not for his hands grip on your hip.

“Where do you want it, pretty?” He’d have to squeeze his eyes shut to wait for your reply.

If you wanted him to not cum inside, that’s fine. He’s pulling out and slipping his cock between your thighs, and sliding through your folds. His cock head would nudge your clit each thrust, sometimes he’d accidentally slip inside.

If you wanted him to cum inside you? Oh lord. His knuckles are white from how hard he’s squeezing your ass, and when he cums the sluttiest little whines and whimpers are coming out his mouth.

And he won’t pull out, no no, he’s fucking his cum deep inside you. Murmuring and whining about how sexy you’d be pregnant. Round with his kid.

But enough of that.

You’re at the beach. It’s hot. You have a twisted tea in your hand and a little bottle of Jack Daniel’s. You bite into the bottom of the can, crack it open then put the bottle in the bottom so as you shot gun it your getting the Jack Daniel’s and the twisted tea.

You’re wearing two piece bathing suit. The top makes your tits sit perfectly and the bottom is honest to got just a spruced up elastic thong. Your skin was warm and you’d worked up a nice tan.

Your boyfriend was hiding under the umbrella cause his pale ass can’t tan for SHIT. He just burns and when he does he whines for DAYS.

But he’s sat back in a chair, practically fucking salivating that his boo with a booty is chugging down that atrocious blend of alcohol. He’s hard. Like rock hard. Like he’s already leaking through the tip.

So, his Victorian child pale ass walks out from under the umbrella, grabs a chilled bottle of Tito’s before throwing you over his shoulder.

“Toru! What the hell are you doing?” You looked over your shoulder, only to see his hands squeezing your ass before slapping it, making you squeal. “We are in public!”

“Can’t help it baby, you know what this bathing suit does to me.” He grinned before walking back up to the little condo hotel thing y’all had rented by the beach. He sat you down on kitchen table, and opened the Tito’s before tilting his head back and chugging it down. His throat was on FIRE but he wanted to impress you.

You could only stare at him, knowing damn well he might throw up. But he doesn’t and that surprises you. Especially when you watch the vodka drip down his chin, chest and to his v line.

Thighs clenching, you bit down on your bottom lip. “Hey babe?”

Gojo puts down the bottle and coughs up a STORM. But finally looks down at you, feeling buzzed as fuck.

“Wanna have drunk consentual sex?” You tilted your head with a grin, leaning back a little on the table.

Gojo’s grin matched yours before he nodded. “Mmhm.” He lifted the bottle and guided it to your lips.

Well, let’s just say the hang over was awful but the sex was great. 🤷‍♀️

YERRRR ANOTHER POST FROM UR FAVORITE ADDICT ❤️❤️

[blastiebabe]

just paint my nails, damn it

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

It was a tiring day, you are currently in your dorm room lying in your bed, scrolling though your phone. The training with Aizawa and All Might earlier have drained almost all of your energy. Just when you are about to close the app where you were bingeing, your phone vibrates. A message from Katsuki.

Katsuki:

my room. now.

You roll your eyes by his sudden authoritative text that is actually isn't new to you. It isn't also the first time that Katsuki asked you to be in his room, over the course of the two of you training together, to studying together, eating together, really, being inside in his room together isn't that surprising.

You and Katsuki hangs out almost everyday, maybe as friends (?) But in your perspective, Katsuki is becoming more than that for you. And you don't know what to feel about it. Hell for sure that explosive dude doesn't even see you as a woman. Therefore, these days, you have been trying to avoid being alone with him. Not that he will let you do so like what he is doing now.

After rolling your eyes, you type a response.

You:

nah, too tired.

Katsuki:

too tired my ass. come. now.

You:

Kats, I'm tired

Katsuki:

and that's why you should come here

For the nth time, you rolled your eyes reading that message. You see, this kind of things is what makes you think there can be a possibility between you both. You left him on read and was about to turn your phone off and just ignore him when it vibrates again, receiving another message.

Katsuki:

please?

You groan as you reach for your hair in frustration. Damn it why is it so hard to say no to that damn explosive man? You stood up, bringing only your phone and going straight into his room wearing pjs, you didn't even knock. You opened the door abruptly.

"What the fuck do you want?" You ask with both your hands crossed to each other. You find Katsuki sitting at the floor of his room beside his bed, in front of him is a coffee table and on top of it are nail polish and other shit that one uses when painting and cleaning nails.

"Well hello to you too, ma'am." Katsuki says without even batting an eye on you, focusing on looking at the colors of nail polish in front of him.

You come inside his room, closing the door, then sits in front of him. "Katsuki, what is it? I just wanna rest for fuck's sa-"

"What color should I paint my nails with?" Katsuki asks, completely disregarding your crash out. He holds up in your face 2 small bottles of nail polish, one is black, the other one is orange.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask, completely irritated at how he is treating you when he was the one who asked you to come here when you told him you wanted to rest. "Katsuki, I don't have time to do this, I just want to rest. I'm going back." You say before you try to stand up.

"You're not goin' anywhere." Katsuki says firmly, holding your wrist when you were about to stand up. He sits you back down.

"What are you-"

"Calm the fuck down. Give me a minute." Katsuki says before standing up ang going to his study table. He grabs a food tray, with a bowl of katsudon and a tea and water beside it. Katsuki brings it in front of you.

You look at him, trying to put your questions into words but none came out. When he realized you were struggling, he spoke. "The nerd told me you haven't eaten dinner yet. What are you, a dumbass?"

"What-"

"Eat, the only way to bring your energy back is to eat. So, calm the fuck down and eat." Katsuki says before focusing on the nail polish before him again.

You look at Katsuki and the food, then back to Katsuki, then the food, then Katsuki. "Did you make these?"

"What do you think?" He says without looking up at you.

"Aww, Kats that so sweet-"

"That ain't free, dumbass. You're coloring my nails." He says looking at you. You see the corner of his ears turning pink. Shit, that made your cheeks red too.

You proceed on eating dinner, while Katsuki tries to entertain himself by doing random things while waiting for you. After your last bite, Katsuki still haven't decided what color he should paint his nails. You thank him for the food he has prepared, and you bring the tray back on his study table.

You get back on your position drinking water and looks at Katsuki busy on trying to figure out his nail polish. You stare at him for a brief moment, then smiles. Suddenly all the tiredness washed out of you.

You grab the black nail polish, reached for his left hand and put it above the table while holding four of his fingers, studying it closely, thinking of a technique to color it perfectly. For sure Katsuki would not want anything less than perfect.

"The hell are you doing?" Katsuki asks, looking at you staring at his fingers. You see the subtle redness in his cheeks.

You smile. "Paying you back." You speak. "Black suits you the best, Kats. I have always loved seeing black on you."

Katsuki is trying his damned best to fight all his face muscles and not to smile by that sudden compliment from you. You laugh at this reaction from him. Seeing Katsuki flustered is an opportunity only presented for you, so not making the most out of it is a sin.

"Are you just asking me to color your nails so you can hold my hand?" You tease him.

"What the-?" Katsuki was startled by what you just said. Looking at your teasing expression, he groans. His cheeks redder than earlier. "Just paint my nails, damn it."

You laugh.

Oh, bloody hell, falling for this guy might not be as bad as you think.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ more of katsuki, here! ♡

[mister0ctopus]

We Are All Sinners 02

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You left Jungkook and this town behind, but every visit pulls you back into his arms, chasing a high you can never leave behind.

Au/Genre: Smut, Exes, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, themes of strained relationship with parents, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol dependency, mental health struggles, angst, but this ch is full of fluff hehe

Ratings: 18+ ONLY!!! MDNI!

Word Count: 4.3K

a/n: this chapter is all about jungkook and yn’s story when they were younger, kinda exploring how things started between them. hope you like it :)

masterlist

SERIES CHAPTERS:

01: We Are All Sinners

02: We Were Holy Once

03: ???

04: ???

Jungkook loves the way you roll your eyes when he says something stupid. 

He’s not actually stupid. 

He’s actually on the honor roll (if that's how you measure intelligence, whatever that means). 

BUT! If acting like an idiot gets a reaction out of you, then so be it.

He nudges Jimin to say something even dumber just so he can top it with an even more ridiculous response. And from the corner of his eye, he catches it—a huff . The most expression you’ve shown since you transferred in his school two months ago.

He’s been doing this since you came here. Being silly, acting stupid, acting smart, being quiet, being loud, everything…

Just to get anything from you. 

You’re the new student from the big city and it shows. The way you dress, the way you speak, the way you act, it’s different from the rest of the kids in this small, quiet town. 

Jungkook hopes you’ll grow to like it here. The mountains, the beaches, how the town feels cozy and warm even when it always rains. 

But you don’t smile. You don’t talk to anyone.

He figures you’re just shy, just overwhelmed by everything new around you. It makes sense. You’re sixteen, and moving to a completely different place can’t be easy. 

You seem lonely, and all he wants is for you to feel at home. 

In his home. 

This town. 

Small towns have small-town habits, and people talk. He knows more about you than he probably should. 

That you moved here with your mom after your parents' messy divorce. 

That your mom grew up in this town but left young, built a life somewhere bigger. 

That she married rich, and then came the divorce. 

That she ran back here with you after the divorce. She works in an office now, at a local firm, or something like that…

Jungkook used to hate how fast gossip traveled here. But now? Now, he’s kind of grateful, because it means he knows about you. And one day, when you’re ready, he hopes you’ll tell him your story in your own words.

It was raining the day you finally spoke to him. Well, answered him.

You were standing under the shed after school, waiting. For something. Maybe for the rain to stop. He was passing by, carrying the ridiculously oversized red umbrella his mom insisted he bring. He stopped beside you, tilting his head.

“You waiting for someone?”

You hesitated for a second before answering. “No.”

Oh. 

Your voice. It sounded so much nicer when directed at him.

He played it cool, pretending his heart wasn’t thumping like crazy. “You can share my umbrella if you want.”

You hesitated again, and Jungkook sent a silent prayer to the universe.

And maybe the gods were feeling generous that day because you nodded. “Okay.”

Okay.

He stepped closer, holding the umbrella over both of you, and you started walking.

“So where do you live?” He tried to sound casual but his heart! He feels like it's about to jump out of his chest.

“The street after the big hardware store.”

He already knew this information. Of course it’s a small town. Still, he gasped, “Really? That’s great!”

You blinked up at him, confused.

Crap. He overdid it. It sounded so fake.

“Well, I mean… I live on the next street after yours, so that means… uh, we get to share my umbrella until we both get home. So we don't get wet.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

You just hummed and nodded.

“So, what do you think of here?” he asked, curious of what you really feel in this town.

“I don’t know… I’m still getting situated,” you say with a small sigh, and Jungkook feels the weight of it.

He doesn’t know much about you yet, aside from the stories or rumors that he heard.

All he really knows is that you’re new here, that you don’t know anyone, and that there’s sadness when you speak that he doesn't like. Not one bit.

So he makes a quiet promise to himself, right then and there: he’s going to make sure you like it here. That you don’t feel so alone.

“So, you came here with your mom?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

You paused, barely looking at him. “Yeah.”

Your answer is hesitant, a little distant. He gets it. Maybe you’re not ready to talk about your life? And that’s okay. 

He shifts the topic immediately. “You can join us during lunch breaks, you know? Jimin and I, and our friends, we’re super nice. If you, uh, if you like… you can sit with us. If you like.”

His voice stumbles, just a little, and he wants to kick himself. Why is he nervous? Why is he like this? God, what if you think he’s an idiot? What if—

You smile.

You smile at him.

God. 

And suddenly, the rain feels like summer, and Jungkook forgets every single thought he was just having because…

God. You are so beautiful.

It’s small, just a tiny lift of your lips, but—

You look up at him and he can see your eyes catching the faint silver light of the gloomy sky, and the way the light catches on your lashes—

Prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.

A little sad, a little guarded, but soft.

“Okay,” you say simply, turning your gaze back to the sidewalk as you keep walking.

Jungkook blinks. That’s a yes. You’re going to sit with him.

His heart physically hurts.

He presses his lips together, fighting back the smile threatening to take over his entire face.

A few minutes later, you stop in front of a white house with a blue gate. “Well, this is me.”

Now he hates that his school is so close to his house. He doesn’t want this walk to end.

He tugs at the strap of his backpack, rocking on his heels before saying, “I’ll walk you to the door, so you don’t get wet.”

You shake your head, and what happens next, he wasn’t prepared.

You laugh, no—more like, a giggle, soft and breathy and so melodic, like you’re genuinely amused. “No, it’s okay, silly! It’s just a short walk.”

Oh.

Oh.

He stands there like an idiot, staring, watching as you jog lightly up to your front door, hoodie sleeves flopping over your hands, your hair bouncing with each step.

Then, you turn back. And then you lift your hand in a small, timid wave before disappearing inside.

You wave.

Him. You wave at him.

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t breathe. He doesn’t even blink.

He exhales, like he just remembered to breathe, head tilting back as he stares at the sky, still standing there in front of your house like some fool. 

Fuck.

Jungkook swore he was the luckiest guy on earth tonight.

You said yes. You actually said yes when he asked if you wanted to come watch his band perform at the school’s music festival.

It still felt surreal.

His band, originally a garage band started by his older brother, Jin, and his friends, Yoongi and Namjoon, had been gaining attention since performing at the town’s sports festival. Now that Jungkook and Jimin had joined, they were getting gigs at bigger festivals… and tonight, they were playing for the school.

And you were coming to see them.

He was waiting by the main gate, feeling a little nervous. You were ten minutes late. Their performance was up next.

Then—

“Jungkook!”

His heart nearly leaped out of his chest.

He turned, and there you were—in denim shorts, high-top red Chucks, an oversized maroon hoodie. Hair slightly tousled, a little out of breath, like you’d rushed to get here.

So beautiful.

“Hey! You made it!” He couldn’t hide his excitement.

You nodded, still catching your breath.

“We’re on next,” he grinned. “Shall we?” He reached for your hand without thinking. And—oh. 

You took it.

Another first.

Jungkook could barely contain his smile as he led you backstage.

“Do you mind if I introduce you to the guys first?” He sounded a little sheepish now.

You raised a brow.

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “They didn’t believe you’d come. I just… I wanted to prove them wrong.” He laughed lightly, nose scrunching.

Your lips twitched. “Oh, so you wanted me here just to settle a bet?”

Jungkook panicked. “No! No, not at all! I mean…of course I wanted you here! I just also… kinda…want to show you around? To my friends, I mean.. If that’s ok…”

You hummed, tilting your head playfully.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That came out wrong—”

Your giggle interrupted him, and God, he almost melted.

“I’m kidding, Jungkook,” you rolled your eyes. And then you grinned. “Sure, I’d like to meet them.”

He lit up like a firework.

He navigated the messy backstage hallway, weaving through cables and equipment, and led you to a door with a sign that read Tiger Lilly—their band’s name.

“They gave us our own room,” he grins proudly before pushing the door open.

Inside, the guys were buzzing with last-minute prep.

"Jungkook! Finally, we’ve been looking for you!" A tall guy with a buzz cut turned toward him.

Jungkook barely heard him. He turned to you, practically bouncing on his feet. "YN's here!"

The tall guy’s eyes flickered to you, and he broke into a dimpled smile.

Jungkook nudged you forward. "This is Namjoon-hyung. He’s on drums."

"Hi," you said softly. "Nice to meet you." You reached out a hand, and Namjoon shook it warmly.

Jungkook beamed, then turned toward Jimin. You had started hanging out with him since joining Jungkook’s friends during lunch breaks.

"And you already know Jimin, our main guitarist."

Jimin, busy fixing his newly dyed blonde hair, turned when he heard his name. When he saw you, his eyes widened for a second before he grinned.

"YN? Hey! You actually came!"

Jungkook grinned smugly. "Told you."

Before Jimin could say anything else, Jungkook was already dragging you toward two other guys.

"Hyung!" he called out, and two men looked up.

One of them—pale, platinum blond—nodded in greeting.

"This is Yoongi-hyung, our bassist. Best of the best. Hyung, this is YN!"

Yoongi looked intimidating at first, but when smiled— a gummy smile, his entire face softened. "Jungkook talks about you a lot."

You blinked, a little surprised. "Oh. Uh… thanks?" You glanced at Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t even have time to panic over that before another voice chimed in.

"Finally, our golden vocalist returns."

Jin, who you knew was Jungkook's older brother since he talked about him nonstop, looked like a model with his purple hair as he tinkered with a keyboard. He glanced at Jungkook expectantly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. "I was waiting for YN. She’s still getting used to the school."

Jin smirked. "Ah, so you’re YN. Jungkook talks about you nonstop. You should see him in rehear—"

"Hyung, stop! Ugh." Jungkook groaned, touching his ears, which were now turning red.

Jin just laughed and reached for your hand. "Hey, I’m Jin."

You shook his hand and gave him a soft "Hi, nice to meet you."

And you smiled again. You found Jin’s laugh funny. But you smiled again.

You’d been smiling a lot these past few days.

Jungkook swore his heart had never been this full.

"This was Tiger Lilly! Thank you for coming!"

Jungkook’s voice filled the venue—slightly breathless—and the crowd erupted.

It was unbelievable. The cheers, the signs with their band’s name, the how people chanted for them. For him.

You knew they were good, but seeing them live, how they commanded the stage, made you realize just how talented they were. How talented he was.

Jungkook was a natural. 

And the pride swelling in your chest caught you completely off guard.

As soon as they ended their performance, Jungkook practically flung his guitar aside, jumping down from the stage. Still glistening with sweat, he ran toward you, as he aggressively dabbed at his damp skin.

He was glowing. Smiling so wide. His hair is a mess from all the movement, sticking to his forehead.

He looked…

Happy.

And it made your stomach flip because he was running to you.

“Hey! We were good, right?” His words came out in an excited rush, chest still rising and falling from the performance.

You nodded, unable to hide your own excitement. “Yeah! You did great! I’m so proud of you!”

The words slipped out before you could overthink them.

Jungkook froze, then… his entire face lit up.

“Really?” His voice was almost disbelieving. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, failing successfully to suppress his grin.

Your heart skipped.

“Of course,” you said, eyes soft. “You were amazing up there.”

Jimin’s voice cut through the moment. 

“Kook! YN! Afterparty! Let’s go!”

You turned to see him waving from backstage.

Jungkook perked up immediately. “Oh! Yeah... So we have an afterparty a few blocks from here.” He turned back to you, excited. “It’s just us and some of the other bands that played. It’s by the beach house. Come with me, please?”

Then, he leaned in a little, “There’s gonna be s’mores.”

That sheepish little grin, his toothy grin… He knew exactly how to persuade you.

You laughed, warmth spreading through your chest. “Okay! Yeah!”

But just as quickly as you agreed, reality hit.

Your curfew.

Your mom usually went to bed early, but she checked your room sometimes. If she woke up and you weren’t there—

Jungkook’s face fell immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

You barely had time to be surprised. How did he pick up on that so fast?

“Oh. I just have a curfew,” you admitted, chewing your lip. “Eleven. I mean, my mom’s probably asleep, but she checks my room sometimes."

Jungkook didn’t even hesitate.

“Oh, no worries! I’ll drive you home before eleven. I won’t drink. I mean—” He suddenly scratched his neck, sheepish. “I don’t drink anyway. I’m still a minor—heh.”

His little awkward chuckle. The way he ducked his head.

Why was he so adorable?

Jungkook reached for your hand. Like it was natural. Like he didn’t even have to think twice.

Your fingers curled slightly, your palm warm against his.

And just like that, he led you down the hallway, grinning, buzzing with energy.

Cutest boy you’d ever met.

Jungkook tries to focus on his breathing. Really trying. But it’s impossible when you’re sitting this close.

The beach party roars behind him. The laughter, the music… He has no idea where his hyungs went. Who knows? Who cares?

Because right now, none of it matters.

Not when you're beside him, close enough that he can smell your shampoo—something floral, soft, sweet. Close enough that your leg keeps brushing against his, and holy shit, your skin is so smooth.

You’re both sitting in the back of an old, abandoned pickup truck, slightly away from the chaos. It’s the best spot on the beach whenever people hang out. It’s dim here, only the silver glow of the moon tracing the curves of your face. You look… ethereal. Yeah. That’s the word.

You’ve been talking. About school, about town life. But he hasn’t asked about your mom. He wants to—God, he wants to know everything about you. But he remembers how your shoulders tensed the last time someone mentioned her. He doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is. He just wants to keep listening to your voice.

“I like your friends. The ones at school, especially Jimin. And your bandmates. They’re all nice.”

Jungkook swallows.

You like them? That’s good. Great, actually. He wants you to feel welcome here. 

He turns his head to look at you, and wow… the way the moonlight makes your eyes gleam, how the ocean breeze plays with your hair…

So beautiful.

“I like that you feel that way here,” he said, quieter this time. “I know it’s a lot… moving and all.”

He hesitates, suddenly nervous.

“I just… I want you to like it here.”

You don’t talk much about your life before coming to this town. You don’t talk about your mom.

Not about the way she started drinking again, how she clings to it after the divorce. Not about how you watch her shift… how, on the good days, she is warmth and laughter and the mother you remember. But when the skies inside your home turn gloomy, when the sadness seeps into the walls, she becomes someone else. Bitter and mean and vile. 

And you hate it. Not her, but the way the light inside her dims. She’s hurting. She’s trying to cope. And you feel helpless, and useless, not knowing what to do. 

So you don’t talk about it. Because if you say it out loud, people might misunderstand. They might see her only for her worst moments, not the woman who is simply hurting ang trying her best. 

You turn to Jungkook.

Only to find him already looking, trying to figure you out by looking at you.

“I hope someday you can just talk to me about what you’re really thinking. When you're ready, I’m here, for whatever you need. I hope someday you'll feel at home here, too."

You smile at him and warmth settles in your chest against the cold sea breeze.

Sweetest boy you’ve ever met.

So good. So pure. And everything harsh and hard around you, every jagged edge, is being softened in his presence. Eroded.

He tells you he hopes you feel at home here. You don’t tell him that you already do. Not in the town, but here, beside him.

“You have the prettiest eyes,” he murmurs, almost absentmindedly.

Under the moonlight, you let yourself truly take him in. The arrogant slope of his nose, the curve of his lips and the mole just below, the faint scar on his cheek, his dark lashes, his round eyes… you take it all in.

And then, slowly, hesitantly, he leans in.

The scent of him hits first—musk and vanilla, and Jungkook.

Then—his lips.

The first touch is barely there, a whisper, a question. His lips graze yours, unsure. You mimic the way he moves, hesitant, careful.

And then everything else fades.

The distant sound of the waves, the laughter from the party, the weight of what you carry—none of it exists. 

There is only him.

He exhales softly against your lips, like relief, like finally. Like he has been running toward this moment for so long and has just now arrived.

He breaks the kiss, his hands cupping your face, thumbs gently brushing your cheeks as he studies you.

You smile at him, as if to say, I liked that very much.

He must understand, because he smiles too.

His fingers graze your jawline, his fingertips slightly rough from playing the guitar. 

And then, he kisses you again, firmer this time. His lips gently molding into yours, letting your lips part just enough before he tilts his head to savor you more. 

To be kissed like this.

Your first kiss.

Only for your phone to vibrate in your back pocket, breaking the trance.

You and Jungkook freeze, breathless, blinking at each other like you’ve just resurfaced from deep water. Then, almost at the same time, you both let out soft, breathless laughs as you scramble for your phone.

Your alarm, 30 minutes until curfew.

Jungkook catches a glimpse of your screen before pushing himself up and effortlessly hopping out of the back of the pickup.

His movements are easy, fluid, and then he turns to you, hand outstretched.

You shift forward, about to take it, but instead, his hands find your waist.

Before you can even process what’s happening, he lifts you off the truck bed like you weigh nothing. His grip is firm but gentle, and your body is pressed against his, and you feel his solid body against yours. Warm enough to seep through your thick hoodie.

When your feet touch the ground, heat creeps up your neck. But before you can dwell on it, his fingers find yours, and you follow him as he leads you to the front of the beach house, where a car is parked.

He catches your questioning look and grins.

“I borrowed Jin’s car,” he smiles, opening the passenger door. He tilts his head toward the seat. “Let's get you home.”

He closes the door behind you once you're in, then jogs to the driver’s side, sliding in effortlessly and buckling his seatbelt.

The moment you start driving into the night, drops of rain hit the windshield.

The drive is quick, and as you pass the big hardware store, you turn to him.

“Hey,” you said, “can you drop me off at the corner?”

Jungkook glances at you, confused. “Why? You’d have to walk past, like, five houses to get home.”

“Yeah, well…” You hesitate, unsure how to say it, “I just don’t want mom seeing me get out of a car. She’s probably asleep, but she’s a light sleeper sometimes, and… I just don’t want to deal with any talks about me going out, you know?.”

Jungkook says nothing as he slows down and stops the car at the corner.

“It’s raining.”

“It’s ok,” you say, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll dry off when I get home.”

But before you can step out, he unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out into the rain.

“What are you—”

And then he’s at the trunk, grabbing something. 

His huge, red umbrella.

He pops it open, opens your door, and holds out a hand.

"Come on," he casually says. Without a word, you take his hand, and let him help you out of the car. Rain patters softly against the umbrella as you walk side by side down the wet pavement.

Then, his arm wraps around your waist, his body warm against the cool breeze.

Neither of you says anything. You just walk together, listening to the patter of rain and the rhythm of your unhurried steps.

How you feel safe and content just by being close to him—you don’t know. It is new, but it is not confusing.

When you reach your gate, he exhales and turns to you with a small, lopsided smile. But he doesn’t let go of your waist.

“Thanks for driving me home,” you whisper. “Drive safe. Good night.”

“Good night,” he murmurs back.

You push at the gate gently, careful not to make noise, only to realize it won’t budge. Your stomach drops.

You glance at Jungkook, panic flickering across your face.

“Mom never locks the gate,” you whisper. “I didn’t bring my key to this thing."

He steps forward, inspecting the lock, then glances up at the height of the gate. Without a word, he shifts the umbrella into your hands.

Then—he climbs.

Effortlessly.

You watch him jump in with your mouth slightly open.

And then, within seconds, he’s unlocking it from the inside, pushing it open for you.

The two of you walk silently toward the front door. Once you reach it, you stand there and face him.

You look up at him, eyes searching, heart in your throat.

And then, without thinking—

You tiptoe.

And you kiss him.

At first, it was a soft press of your lips to his, to say thank you.

'Thank you' for making you feel less alone.

He freezes, breath hitching, caught off guard. But the second you part your lips over his—god—

he exhales a shaky breath and kisses you back, as if to say you're welcome.

You are welcome in his mouth. In everything that he has, you are welcome. Come in. Feel at home—it's yours to invade, to take, to make yours.

His hands fly to your waist, gripping, pulling you closer, closer, until there’s no space between you. His mouth parts, catching your lower lip between his, sucking gently, teasing.

A quiet, shaky noise escapes you.

And that sound, it does something to him.

With barely controlled urgency, his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your messy hair as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss. His other arm tightens around your waist, pulling you closer, closer… until you feel him gently grind into you. Only once. Gently. But you feel it, pressed against his warm, solid body. You feel it.

When his tongue brushes against your lips, silently for permission, you let him in.

Your hands clutch at his hoodie to pull him closer, and he whimpers into your mouth—a soft, wrecked sound. You pull back to catch your breath, and he presses his forehead against yours for a second... but then, as if he can’t wait any longer, as if a second is an eternity, he finds your lips again, capturing them in another deep, long kiss.

He smiles into the kiss, and finally pulls away, lips red, swollen, slick.

His voice is hushed and breathy. “Good night, YN.”

You barely find the breath to respond. “Good night, Jungkook.”

You step back, slipping inside. The door closes between you, but your body still feels like it’s pressed against his.

You quietly climb the stairs, smiling, head spinning, lips swollen, stomach flipping. The house is dark and silent, the only light guiding you is the moonlight from the window at the end of the hallway.

You slip into your room quickly, and just as you reach your window, you see him—standing by your gate, looking back, scanning your house.

When he sees you watching from your window, a wide, boyish grin spreads across his face. He gives you a small wave before jogging back to his car and disappearing into the night.

And you stand there, staring after him, knowing one thing for certain…

Jungkook has your heart. 

Your first love.

masterlist / thoughts?questions?

[tabsters]

wiege observations - part 1 (because of tumblr's 30 image limit)

part 2 here

first of all:

WHAT ON GOD'S FUCKING EARTH DOES THIS IMPLY???? does it mean that the luka we know killed all the other lukas??? it looks like he hit a switch of some sort, causing all the other lukas to spill out of their pods and presumably die. we've all been saying that the other lukas died because they weren't perfect enough, but what if they were killed accidentally, by our luka's negligence? there's also green shit all over them, someone said that could be alien blood, so what's the implication there? does hepuru have something to do with them all dying as well?

these shots were beautiful. I love hyuna. and it shows her reminiscing about the times she spent in anakt.

edit: someone said that the top image is her with the rebellion members. she's smiling in the first one, because she cares about her fellow escaped humans, but she'll always value the time she spent with luka more.

this is depressing. it's already probably been stated, but this is the only way luka can ever see or touch hyuna after she went rogue.

people have also already said that this means that originally, sua had the black dress and mizi had the white one. does this mean that the aliens originally thought that mizi would look better in white because white = innocence and mizi is the most innocent anakt contestant? and then does that mean mizi gave sua the white dress because white = holiness and sua is her god?

also been said, till is spray painting his shirt because he's a rebel and he always does things his own way.

this is presumably after hyunwoo dies. hyuna is obviously in shock and she's crying about hyunwoo's death. but luka is happy. he's happy that he now gets all of hyuna's attention, that he can be the ruler of her heart the way she rules his heart.

this is a picture presumably drawn by hyuna, given how only she and hyunwoo have eyes, and how she's the only one who has a mouth. however, an interesting thing to think about is that this could be a callback to this:

notice how hyuna is the only one who has her eyes and mouth uncovered. hyunwoo has his mouth scribbled through, while luka doesn't have a face at all. this could imply that luka was actually the one that drew this picture.

what's interesting about these photos is that this shows that human connection wasn't just limited to our main six. there were humans all over, in the slums and anakt, connecting with each other and finding the reasons to live in each other. and I think that's beautiful.

THE FUCKING XYLOPHONE.

as @hoisinblackcat pointed out, that is chu chu from revolutionary girl utena. if you're a mizisua enjoyer, go watch revolutionary girl utena.

as many people have pointed out as well, THEY WERE MARRIED IN ANOTHER LIFE.

what is bro doing. is he doing karaoke. get it till.

this picture is a callback to this one picture at the very beginning, in round one:

this implies that mizi took the fish out of water to keep as a pet, and then it died.

4NAKT. I love 4NAKT. this is my new wallpaper. this is also a callback to the one alien from round 3 and round 6:

now, this interesting to me because what I immediately thought of when I saw this alien was Cerberus, the three headed dog to the underworld in greek mythology. this could imply that this alien serves as a guard for anakt, making sure that no kids escape. however, Cerberus has three heads. this alien could have three heads, but only two are picturesd. however, there is also a two headed dog in greek mythology named orthrus. what did orthrus do? guarded cattle. yet another reference to how humans just animals in the eyes of the segyein.

now, this scene. it has a possibility to be connected to this scene:

where there is AN ENORMOUS FUCKING BEETLE ON LUKA'S HEAD. I think this is the direct reason for why luka killed hyunwoo, hyunwoo hit luka on the head to kill the beetle, luka hit him back because he didn't understand what was going on, hyunwoo's head got smashed into a rock, and luka smiles and goes "oh well, less competition for hyuna's love."

what the fuck is this. is luka looking at even more clones of himself. but these guys look taller. what the fuck.

mizi's still crying over till's death. hyuna's still injured. IVAN, TILL, AND HYUNA ALL DIED ON THE EXACT SAME DAY. WHAT IF I DIED.

anyway post 2 coming soon because I decided this was more important than AP precalculus.

[lsunstreakerl]

more scrapbook paper max. be gentle with him please, he doesn't get enough hugs.

"Max. Maaaaaaax."

Someone is nudging their toe into Max's thigh.

He cracks an eye open, disoriented. There's something thudding against the warm wall behind his back, and he's sitting on cool tile. The room has a greenish hue.

"You better not be dead, I need to interview you for my assignment."

He's in the laundry room. Why is he in the laundry room?

"-We're supposed to interview an upperclassman and ask about their school life balance, and the internship work, and the battleworks stuff-"

Max is in the laundry room because his suit was stained. His suit was stained because he bled all over it. He bled all over it...?

"-So I was like, yeah, I'll just ask Max, that'll be fine. And then I spent half my morning trying to track you down, and everyone said you skipped class, which like- fair, but then you weren't upstairs in our dorm- we should really get a better lock on that door dude-"

Right. Big lizard thing. Mean big lizard thing. Casual evening assignment for him and Daniel that very rapidly turned not casual. Max is forgetting something.

"-And I have been looking everywhere. And now we're here, and I'm pretty sure you might be dead? Also I don't think your right side was purple last time I saw you. Unless it was, in which case I'm very sorry if I've offended you. But it doesn't look natural, cause like- it's just your arm and also your chest a little bit- what is your workout routine- so I'm thinking it's maybe bad."

Oh right. Poisonous big lizard thing.

Max blinks, staring up at Liam.

"Oh! You're not dead!"

Surely Max was not this stupid as a freshman.

"Obviously."

Liam looks from Max's face to his arm.

"...do you need the nurse?"

Max also looks down at his arm. It's definitely not supposed to be that color. He's not sure he could move it if he wanted to.

"Yup."

------

"Are we lost?"

Max feels his teeth grinding, squinting as he looks across the landscape in front of him. They're supposed to have a senior with them, but Kyvat had disappeared almost half an hour ago when he heard a noise- which breaks basically the first rule any of them are taught for Fog trips, to never go alone- and now Max is stuck with a freshman clinging to him.

"No."

He's lying. Sort of.

Max has made a few solo Fog trips, but that's because he's perfectly content to go apeshit and destroy everything around him to find a way out- it's how Daniel had met him the first time, before Max got enrolled.

He can't exactly do that with Bearman at his back though- the kid would die. Max can feel him stepping closer, practically pasted alongside Max's back, even though he's nearly as tall as Max is by now.

It's embarrassing, honestly. Max has two years on him- the least Bearman can do is let Max catch up to Daniel before he outgrows them both.

He might be able to try-

"Ollie."

The kid perks up behind him.

"Yeah?"

Max chews at his bottom lip for a moment. He's never tried this before- a tuned down version of what he's done in the past. He's not sure if it might still hurt Bearman, depending on how long they do it. He's not sure if they're going to get Kyvat back.

But they don't all need to die out here.

"Keep holding onto me. I'm going to try and feel a way out- I need you to tell me if you think there's a threat."

"Okay."

Credit where it's due, Ollie is brave. They weren't even supposed to go into the Fog today, not with a freshman- but things had gotten messy up top, and it had been safer to drop into the complete unknown without supplies rather than stay.

Which kind of sums up the year Max has been having.

That it's only January is irrelevant.

He closes his eyes, tries to carefully build up the charge in the area around him, feeling out for where it stops.

It's much easier to just have a full spark and follow that path, but again- tiny freshman. Max does not want to have to explain to the board why he's brought back a barbecued Bearman.

And Ollie's dorm mates would be sad.

Also, begrudgingly, Max kind of likes Bearman.

He sets off tiny little sparks, soft snaps of electricity, and then he's walking.

The Fog is difficult because it's not real. It causes hallucinations, makes you question what you see, what you hear. It obscures your sight, leads you wandering in circles until you die. Or until one of its natural predators comes to eat you.

Max is not interested in either of those things happening today, so he keeps walking, pulling Bearman behind him as he keeps setting off small snaps, carving out his own path.

He's not trying to get to a specific outlet- there's no way, not with the tiny amount of charge he's generating- just needs to get to one.

"Max-"

Oliver sounds nervous, and Max opens his eyes. There's nothing around them.

"You're hallucinating."

"Okay."

The benefit to traveling in groups through Fog is that it can't show the same thing to two people at once- which is why traveling alone is borderline suicide.

Max isn't going to feel bad for Kyvat- it's his own fault.

He closes his eyes again, feels Bearman jolt softly next to him when he accidentally sets a charge too hard, shocking him.

He's not going to feel bad about that either- he's got empathy in limited amounts.

Otherwise Bearman is good about sticking close, doesn't complain about the numerous static shocks he must be experiencing.

Max can feel a headache building at the base of his skull- he's not used to using this much precision for this long. He's been working on it with Lambiase, but it's still difficult.

His fingertips have a slight tingle- they're not numb or charred the way they get when he's really pushing it, just an uncomfortable pinprick sensation.

One of his sparks flares at the edge of his senses- it's snapping in regular oxygen, not Fog.

He doesn't open his eyes, because they're not out yet, but he must be smirking, because Bearman sighs in relief.

"Please tell me you found it."

Max hums, keeps guiding them.

"Maybe."

He can feel it when they hit the cool air- Fog is dry and stale, constantly. He blinks his eyes open, and sure enough- they've just stepped out of a dilapidated doorway, into the middle of nowhere.

"How the fuck-"

Bearman is looking at him, and Max shrugs. He's not going to explain it- he'll sound like a maniac anyways, and he has enough of a reputation as is.

He leans forward and hits the emergency button on Bearman's suit, sending off signals back to the academy and their supervisors.

"Stay here."

Oliver's eyes widen, darting between Max and the doorway.

"You're not actually going to- mate."

Max frowns at him. He's not taking judgment from a freshman- Liam is bad enough, and they have to bunk together.

"Stay. Put."

Bearman swallows and nods, and Max turns back around and steps into the Fog.

Stupid senior.

[craziertogether]

thinking about mike & will

first off happy valentine’s day! now onto another yap session. i sometimes find myself wondering why i’m so obsessed with byler. it might be because i have a tendency to like tragic queer couples (aot, orv, & bbm) or maybe bc i love the yearner trope. but honestly the thing that gets me about byler is probably because growing up with them i struggled with the same things they did (internalized homophobia & hiding my sexuality) it wasn’t until literally so recently that i started to find myself accepting my own queer attraction.

growing up seeing that on TV with these two characters who’s love is beyond any queer relationship on TV. It’s gut wrenching with just the right amount of angst that doesn’t make me wanna choke myself but enough that it’s realistic and raw. they never sexualized or made it seem shameful that queer love exists, and with that they’ve built up a love that grew so beautifully from the very first moment. they showed us that this relationships was incredibly deep, it started that day in kindergarten when mike asked will to be his friend and they’ve been inseparable since. they started as the outcasts and sought each other out and others who might’ve felt as lonely as they did. and yet their bond out ranks theirs with dustin and lucas, why? because it just does, because they found each other, not by “dumb luck or fate” but by choosing the other person to be their friend. choosing them to be in their party. mike choosing to stay/stand by will even when EVERYONE else chose to leave. mike’s love/care for will is so deep that it’s comparable to how his own mother values him, them being the only ones to believe that he was alive with NO evidence and actually having evidence to disprove his life, but mike had even less than joyce. like that is the kind of love that comes after years of marriage/familial bonds, the intuition of how the other is/are feeling.

this love doesn’t fade even though the seasons continue. i think we tend to really feel like mike’s character declined because he abandoned his friends as a means to hide his sexuality, but how is that he somehow still is most in tune with will even through all that. of course he’s already made the mistake and it’s too late to undo what has been done, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. by trying save his relationship with will in season 3/4, it’s almost like he’s trying to find a secret exit within the horrible walls he built around himself. he wants nothing more than to hide his secret from everyone and yet he’s so bad at it, not because will or men are his kryptonite or anything like that. but because it’s practically instinctual for him to choose will just like he did when he was a kid. it’s not like he doesn’t care about anyone else, but that love and care he has for those around him will never compare to they love he has for will because he will always choose and love will differently than anyone else. (again see his fights with EL, lucas, dustin, max, nancy, his parents, hopper). it’s shown to us that he becomes an asshole to them all at some point but it’s insane that we never see him actually apologize to any of them on screen the way that we see him do it with will. the amount of screen time and emphasis they put onto their relationship is not something you do for a pair of friends. it’s not, and somehow every moment they share is so much more intimate than even my favorite couples in the show but somehow it’s still going over the GA’s head. their moments are tender and intimate without sexual/romantic intimacy and somehow they outdo all the romance we DO see in screen. (let me say tho that the endgame couples obviously have love that i admire and love so much too) but byler’s is so incredibly unique and special in way that we haven’t seen in another parts of the show. (obviously parallels exist but those parallels aren’t identical).

on top of everything that we know and see, i stated before how this show will change everything, but all of this build up and once it’s finally confirmed and shown to the GA. it will be a happy, real, and raw love story that will be broadcast to millions. who, whether they want to admit it or not, it will show a story that is undeniably beautiful. a queer love story that isn’t cheesy (i love cheesy) or incredibly tragic (also love) but had time to buildup and grow with angst and painful moments but also tender and emotional moments that so many can relate to. seriously i’m having withdrawals, drop the trailer please.

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

@fantasybookgeek09 this was such a fun prompt, thank you!! I've never written a modern au before so I hope it came out okay!

“Since we only have five days left until the holidays, I’m going to go easy on you guys this week. You’ll be doing some fun group work— but it still counts towards your final grade, so don’t slack off.”

Rayla slumped in her chair, not quite sure if it was out of relief or disappointment. She was thrilled not to be getting a third essay to work on over the Christmas “break”, but group projects could be… unpredictable. 

“I’ll be assigning you into pairs—" the typical wave of groans erupted from the student body— “to write and illustrate a short original story based on the themes we’ve been discussing in class. You can divide up the work however you see fit, but you have to contribute at least something to the writing and the art.”

Okay. Rayla could work with that. The short story she’d done in her freshman year had won an award, and she was certain her recent work was even better. And as for the art? Well, she could do some stylized swirls or something. Crossing her fingers under her desk, she prayed to be paired with someone better at drawing than she was. 

“…Ram, you’ll be working with Andromeda, and Rayla, you’ll be working with Callum.”

Rayla bit her tongue to keep from groaning out loud. She just had to make that wish, hadn’t she? 

Callum was a good artist, but that was about all he was good at. She’d been sitting two desks down from him all semester, and not a single class had gone by where he hadn’t been doodling instead of listening. She might as well kiss her grade goodbye. 

The bell rang, the more fortunate students around Rayla gathering into pairs to discuss their plans and get their project rubrics on the way out. But Callum just stowed his sketchbook in his bag, picked up his pens, dropped his pens, and scrambled to stow them, avoiding Rayla’s eyes all the while. She didn’t move, crossing her arms and staring him down. He wasn’t getting off that easily. 

Finally, he looked up at her. Or, slightly to the left of her. Rayla would take it.

“I want to figure out the plot of my— our story before we start working on it tomorrow. Are you free this afternoon?”

Callum nodded, a single, sharp jerk of his chin. “You could come over to my house?”

Well, that was easier than anticipated. Rayla had expected to cut through three excuses at least before he realized he couldn’t worm his way out of it. “Sounds like a plan.”

…

Another infuriating thing about Callum was that Rayla hadn’t needed to ask for his address, or even for directions to his house. Everyone knew where he lived, because it was an enormous mansion roughly the size of seven of Rayla’s houses put together, pretentiously seated on the hill over Katolis, visible from anywhere in town. And it only got more ostentatious up close. 

Pulling into the driveway— and circling around the fountain in the middle of it— Runaan let out a low whistle. “If they ask you to stay for dinner, make sure you smuggle out some of the cutlery. It could probably keep us in food for a year.”

Rayla laughed. “There isn’t enough money in the world to get me to stay for dinner. Nice try, though.”

Runaan smirked in return, clapping Rayla’s shoulder as she slid out of the car.

Rayla was fully expecting a butler to answer the door, so it came as a shock when it swung open to reveal Callum’s ten-year-old brother bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Hi, Rayla!”

“Hey, Ezran. How’ve you been?”

“Good!”

She smiled, relaxing slightly as Ezran waved her into the house with a flourish. They’d been on speaking terms ever since Rayla had pelted some kids with snowballs for teasing Ezran about talking to birds, and he was a sweet kid. A bit strange, but then, so was Rayla, in her own way. 

“Rayla! You made it!”

Rayla followed Callum’s voice to find him standing at the top of a real, actual marble staircase, framed by railings of golden filigree. Maybe she should try to make off with some cutlery.

“It was pretty hard to miss,” she said drily.

Callum flushed, but Ezran just laughed. 

Recovering, Callum managed to lead Rayla into a “living room” roughly the size of Katolis High’s gymnasium. At least it gave them plenty of room to spread out.

“All right,” Rayla said, pulling out the planning sheet they’d been given. “I already plotted out the storyline, so I just need you to tell me which sentence you want to write and what you want me to do for the illustrations.”

“Which sentence I want to write?”

Rayla glanced up at him, surprised by the offense in his tone. “Well, yeah. I want this to be good. I have a grade-point average to keep up, and—"

“And you think I’m a bad writer?”

“Writing well requires practice, Callum, and I’ve never seen you so much as take notes. You’ve always got your nose in that sketchbook. You’ve got it with you now!”

To prove her point, she snatched it up from the cushions between them. Callum yelped, reaching out for it.

“This thing must have hundreds of pages, and I’d bet you’ve done half of them in class.”

“Don’t!” 

Callum lunged for it, Rayla pulled back, and the sketchbook clattered to the floor to reveal…

Drawing after drawing of her.

Rayla froze. Callum buried his face in his hands.

“So you must think I’m pretty creepy.”

Rayla wasn’t sure what to think. She reached out and picked up the sketchbook again, and this time, Callum didn’t stop her. 

The sketches were… incredible. They looked like her— all the things she liked about herself, and all her imperfections. He’d captured the way she tugged at her braid when she was nervous, the way she tilted back in her chair when she was bored. She could tell when many of the sketches were done by her expression alone: focused eyes the day before their first exam, a wrinkled nose the day Soren had come into their classroom to dribble a basketball around the desks for no apparent reason, a drawn mouth the day her parents had been deployed. 

“Why?” Rayla asked quietly, tearing her gaze from the drawings to meet Callum’s eyes.

His face was red as fire, but his voice was steady. “I’ve always liked people-watching. You can learn so much about them by how they dress, how they sit, what their expressions are. There are whole stories there, if you look for them. Ever since you stood up for Ezran, I… I’ve wanted to know what your story is. You’re so smart, and confident in a way I don’t understand at all, and you’re… good. I wanted to know what makes you that way. But… I didn’t think you’d tell me.”

Blood was rushing to Rayla’s cheeks now, her throat clogging with an unexpected shame. All this time, Callum had been looking at her. Had really seen her, in a way no one else at school seemed to. And she’d taken a few glances at him, built him a false image, and never thought to question it. 

Rayla forced herself to look back up at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… seeing the best in me, I guess? For wanting to get to know me, even though I’ve been such a jerk. I’m sorry I said you weren’t a storyteller.”

Callum laughed. “You were right, actually. I really am a bad writer. I mean— except for poetry, I think? But no one’s ever read those, so who knows?”

“I didn’t say writer, I said storyteller.”

Callum’s eyes widened, and then he smiled. It was the first true grin Rayla had ever seen him make, and it transformed his whole face, making dimples appear in his cheeks and his green eyes gleam. Rayla’s breath hitched in her chest. 

“So… does this mean I can write more than a sentence?” he asked.

“You know what? I’d bet we can fit some poetry in here for you to write. But first, I want your opinion on the plot. You might have some ideas I didn’t think of.”

“Oh— wow. Thank you.”

Callum reached for their planning sheet, but Rayla placed her hand over his. The contact sent a jolt through her fingers, and she quickly withdrew them.

“Before that, though, I think it’s past time I asked about you.”

“About me?”

Another spike of shame shot through Rayla at the confusion in his voice, but she smiled through it, settling close enough to him on the couch for their shoulders to touch.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?”

[jd-loves-fiction]

Did I say 2 reqs, I meant 3. This is gonna be a more specific one

You already know. Boothill, Gallagher, Blade, Aventurine and Ratio meeting reader of another universe and this reader almost the complete opposite of the one from their world with a different story and different circumstances.

(For more context HSR universe reader is more child-like, reckless, clearly teen aged, seeking parental validation a lot, Impulsive and just over all immature as expected from a kid.

Meanwhile this other universe reader is the same age but they are a lot more responsible, mature, basically parents the people around them, grumpy but caring (basically if you mixed Blade and Ratio personality-wise))

🌑it never eeeenndsss!! 😭(havin the time of my life) ALSO CAN YOU TELL I HAVE FAVORITES :D (maybe i should write a character study thing with Ratio too.... i like him a lot more than i realized)

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Eerie as hell, very freaked out

Like, who is this child and why do they look like you??

Obviously likes your normal self better, OBVIOUSLY

This is just weird :( you should be acting like a kid, because that's what you are, not... whatever this is

Unsettled through every enteraction with this other version of yourself, always a little distant - just can't get used to the change

Once its all over, he let's you get away with a lot more than usual (which was already a lot) and scolds you a lot less

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦

Feels a strange sort of longing - this is what you could've been like

He sees it as the version of you, you should've turned into if you'd have a relatively pain-free life

If makes him ache in a way he hasn't been able to process yet

Lingers a lot on the possibilities - would you have never met him like this? Would that have been better for you?

Slips into self-deprication alarmingly quickly

Once it's over, he turns very introspective for a few days after

Before returning to his quiet, grumpy self, only change being he tries to make your life a little easier in all the subtle ways he can

✦ 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 ✦

Definitely see the Dr. Ratio things and it freaks him out a little

He has to deal with one doctor, and now there's two?? (affectionate)

Isn't entirely pleased with the change - you're a lot less like him this was and he doesn't like it

Aven likes being able to relate to you and connect to you though your similarities (even if most of the things you have in common are undoubtedly negative)

Your similarities also help him lead you away from the worst stuff he's experienced walking the same path as you - like this though? He can't lead you, he doesn't know how and therefore feels as if he can't protect you

Spoils you like hell once the situation is solved, buying you anything you want and encouraging your childishness and recklessness - definitely not healthy, but he likes you better when you're similar

Totally has nothing to do with him seeing his younger self in you and wanting to vicariously heal himself through healing you oh my god this man needs so much therapy

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Appreciates the help? but is conflicted about the whole thing

Sure, you're being a lot more helpful than usual (or this version of you is, rather) and more well behaved on top of that, and he appreciates that BUT it's weird

It's just weird - you're a kid. You're supposed to act like him, you don't need to be good and helpful for him to enjoy having you around

Subtly urges this other version of yourself to relax a little and let loose, more so just to see if they would - they don't. He's quite surprised by it

He though they would when given the chance, that this serious version of yourself was just acting this way becasue they had to and would revert to your normal way of acting when given the chance

The thought that the you he knows isn't necessarily the you, you were meant to be is troubling

The following days, he has a troubled look in his eye but brushes you off when you try to pry

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

It's like looking into a mirror...... he's not a fan

Not in a self-centered 'I'm the only one who can act like that' kind of way, more so in 'why the hell is a kid acting like this' kind of way

Despite what some people would have you believe, Dr. Ratio is actually incrediby caring - he's just on the spectrum (that part is headcanon but tale as old as time)

His life's mission is to spread his knowledge to everyone isntead of monopolising it like the Genius Society is doing

So in a way, it's good to see you follow some of his lessons and act like he sometimes suggests you do

But it feels so damn wrong it just doesn't sit right with him

He wants you to grow to appreciate his lessons when the time is right and you're grown enough to understand them yourself

This just feels like you skipped that teenage rebellion stage that he feels is important to go through

Plus, the slight chip on his shoulder he still carries from being rejected by the Genius Society tells him, the world doesn't need more Ratio's (🥺)

Strangely encourages your misbehavior in the days to come, turns a blind eye to your troublemaking and lightens up on the lessons

The whole ordeal has him appreciating the teenage part of development more than before

AHEM - Valentine event here ;)

[suzukiblu]

Day two of February’s third weekly WIP behind the cut; “interdimensional kidnapping via Robin”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon cries a lot harder; hard enough he clearly can’t talk past it, hard enough to shake with it, and like–he’s not a small kid, honestly. He’s the smallest that Tim’s ever seen a version of Kon, yes, but he’s pretty big for his physiological age. Which, like–not surprising that he would be, really. He’s definitely in the expected top percentile for a ten year-old, if not over the expected top percentile. Tim would put him somewhere between 4’10” and 5’ and at probably a good hundred pounds or so, which puts him maybe nine to seven inches shorter than Tim himself is and maybe, like, forty-five or fifty pounds lighter. So . . . about seventy percent of his own body weight, give or take. And Tim probably has a concussion and at least a couple broken ribs, and definitely has plenty of cuts and abrasions and bruises deep enough that he doesn’t even want to think about how long it’s going to be until he’s field-ready again. 

He doesn’t do goddamn Bat-level training to not be able to pick up and carry a crying kid no matter what condition he’s personally in, though.

Tim scoops Kon up into his arms and the kid makes a startled little noise about it that cracks through one of his sobs, then grabs the front of his suit just next to the “R” decal tight enough that the body armor creaks and buies his face in his neck to cry even harder. He doesn’t hold onto him any more than that, but he’s still as close to clinging to him as he can get. 

Well–no, his TTK is definitely clinging to him, whether his actual physical body is or not. 

Tim wonders exactly how many times this kid’s been held by someone–at least how many times that he remembers being held by someone, anyway–but all things considered is pretty sure he wants the answer to be “none”. If Luthor really is the only person that this version of Kon remembers ever having been touched by . . . 

Yeah. Tim definitely wants the answer to be “none”, ugly as that thought is. 

“S-sorry,” Kon gasps brokenly into his neck. “M’sorry, m’s-sorry, I d-don’t–I dunno why, I–I can’t s-s-stop, I–” 

“It’s alright, kid,” Tim says, and doesn’t let his voice get any tighter. Really, it’s impressive Kon didn’t fall apart sooner. Or . . . depressing, maybe. “I’m just gonna carry you for a bit now. Just tell me if you want down, okay?” 

“I don’t,” Kon sobs, his TTK going tight. “Don’t put me down, don’t–please.” 

“Okay,” Tim says, and fucking hates Lex Luthor. 

He walks the rest of the way to the marina with Kon curled up in his arms and crying into his neck; digging his fingers into his body armor and his TTK into all of his bruises. Tim might need to do some repairs on the armor later but is really not concerned about it right now. It’s just a footnote to take care of before he tries to go on patrol in this specific suit again, that’s all. It already needed some fixing up anyway, after spending seventy-six hours going through the wringer in a reality that shitty. 

Also, like, he guesses he needs some fixing up after that too, admittedly. 

[lime202]

Felt the need to post the tags of my previous post with a video to provoke discussion (featuring rough theories/assumptions about Doey's make-up and his colors)

Poppy Playtime Chapter 4 spoilers. Visuals and continued tangent below break.

The orange hand is also the one that slams and causes the rubble to fall, connecting to Kevin's described behavior.

(I'm not trying to pick at every little thing, but the animators did spend the time to animate every detail and belly jiggle, so I'm sure there was purpose to that as well, haha.)

I don't have too much to say about Jack, because I have seen a mostly general consensus about him being yellow.

But, I can say that yellow is the least infiltrated by red, making it "purer" and "younger," in a sense. If we were to say that red indicated age/maturity, it would begin with red (Matthew), then descend down to orange (Kevin), then Yellow (Jack).

To continue, post-transformation, the face on our right appears angry (narrowed eyes angled downward), which also lines up with the side of the orange arm.

And, two arms look like they're trying to shut the jaws at the bottom, which are able to be connected to the two (red) legs. There is also one arm on the top trying to help as well, and I assume that to be Jack.

(Not sure what to say about the extra arm, but it could indicate Kevin's increased control over the body.) [The strikethrough will make sense in a moment.]

There was also a theory about the kids' "placements" aligning with the letters of the keyboard, with the initials of the first names. I found that fun.

If anyone else has something to add, please do, it isn't that deep despite my rambling, haha. Especially if there has been confirmation about anything, because if there is, I am wholly unaware of it. And, again, any interpretations are interesting!

(As for the blue—I personally think it shows how they are not only separate but also one. The blue is the “new” modified part that is what forces them together as one creation, if that makes sense)

EDIT: Striked through some text because I just realized I misinterpreted! -> Correction about the number of arms, there's two for each person. More noticeable in this screenshot.

[faeprincess777]

Valentine's Day Dates: Stray Kids Edition

Chan - Game Night

Stress and schedules, that's what Chan's life had consisted of for the past few months. The only thing keeping him going was you. He wanted to go all out for Valentine’s Day to show his appreciation, but when you suggested just having a night together he was grateful. Nothing was really planned, just picking up some snacks and wine and spending time together.

After helping him set everything up in your shared living room, you both settled in. Just talking and sharing stories, stealing a kiss here and there. It was heaven. That's when Chan broke out with a mischievous grin, suddenly revealing a deck of uno cards. You couldn’t help but laugh as you begin to set up the game. 

“I really needed this baby, I’m so glad to be here with you. By the way, pick up 4.”

Lee Know - Netflix & Chill

It didn’t take much to make you happy. With that in mind, Lee Know knew you would appreciate a quiet night in. It was simple but spoke volumes of his love. He meticulously prepared dinner for the both of you. Then he set up some snacks and a movie.

When you arrived home, you were all smiles, just so excited to spend some quiet time alone with your babies. Dinner was perfect and when Lee Know ushered you into the living room your heart soared even more. Soon  you’re all snuggled in with your snacks, your boyfriend and of course your fur babies.

“The kids picked the snacks so you better share them with their dad.”

Changbin - Fancy Dinner

It’s Valentine’s Day. Of course Changbin was going to go all out and spoil his princess. He’s got it all planned out, you get home and he’ll greet you with a bouquet of roses, your favorite. Then you’ll get ready, putting on the pretty new dress he got you. And then to top it all off, he’ll take you to your favorite restaurant, where he reserved a private room, just for the two of you.

The happiness on your face with each new surprise made him giddy. Soon you were overflowing with joy and doing a little happy dance when you reached the restaurant. This night couldn’t have been more perfect.

“I really wanted to make this moment precious for you. Do you think you’ll remember this forever?”

Hyunjin - Paint n' Sip

It was a trend he saw going around TikTok and thought it would be a cute date night idea. People were painting together but the challenge was to switch paintings every few minutes. Hyunjin was excited to see what kind of art you guys could make together.

He gathered all of the supplies and finished setting everything up just as you walked in the door. The range of emotions on your face said it all, you were just as excited as he was. When Hyunjin explained the challenge you were even more eager, if that's even possible. Safe to say it was a fun night and the paintings were something you would cherish forever.

“Angel, I had no idea you could paint this well. I really love it! I love you!”

Han - Charcuterie & Wine

It had been a while since you and Han were able to just sit and catch up. With life being a mess of studio time and dance practices, he felt like he missed out on a lot with you. For Valentine’s Day, he opted for a simple date where the two of you could spend some quality, intimate time together.

He settled on making a nice charcuterie board with some wine and chocolate fondue. It was something you and your sister used to do when catching up and he knew you’d appreciate it.  As you walked in the door, you broke out in a warm smile. The night was perfect and before you knew it, you both had talked about anything and everything, laughing so hard your stomachs were hurting.

“I love you so much, this is just what we needed”

Felix - Baking Date

You tried so hard, but no matter how much you tweaked the recipe, you couldn’t perfect the cookies. You were trying to surprise Felix with cute heart-shaped Valentine’s Day cookies, but nothing was going to plan. Sooner than you had hoped, Felix walks in the door, carrying multiple grocery bags. Little did you know he had the same plan. As he walked in the kitchen and saw the disaster you had made he couldn’t help but chuckle warmly.

Helping you clean up a bit, he set out all of the ingredients and the two of you got to work making the new cookies. Needless to say, it went much smoother and you both had a lot of fun baking together. Before long, the cookies are in the oven baking, leaving time for you and Felix to simply laugh at the coincidence of both of you planning the same surprise.

“It's okay, this just means we can spend some more time together!”

Seungmin - Picnic Date

Seungmin was a wild card, you never knew what he was going to do. So when he calls you and says to be ready, you have no idea what to expect. Quickly, you changed into a cute but comfortable outfit and finished off your outfit with some light makeup. As Seungmin pulled up, you ran out to meet him, eagerly climbing into the car. The whole way to your destination you bombarded Seungmin with questions. Where are you going? What are you doing? Soon you got your answers.

Pulling up and parking at a small and secluded park, you see the adorable picnic he had put together. You squealed with joy, rushing to hug and thank him for the amazing surprise. Before long, the two of you are sitting and enjoying the spread of snacks, strawberries and wine that Seungmin had prepared. To top off the date, he grabs a polaroid camera and snaps a few photos to keep in his wallet.

“Don’t tell anyone I have a soft side. It's only for you.”

Jeongin - Drinks

As you and Jeongin stroll through the city, admiring the shining lights and scenic views, he can help but think how lucky he got with you. It was the perfect night for a stroll and he had the perfect company, just laughing and joking with one another. Nothing made him happier.

Eventually, the two of you find yourselves a few blocks away from one of your favorite bars. What better way to end the night by sharing a couple of drinks together. Making your way there, you both find a seat at the bar, ordering your respective drinks. Conversation flows easily and you couldn't be happier with the night you’ve spent with the love of your life.

“I couldn’t have imagined a better way to spent Valentine’s Day.”

Tagging: @mimikittysblog ❤️

[dcggersedge]

It doesn't bother Yunaka. Seriously. Out of all the things she's dealt with in her life, getting barked at by a moody student isn't even like. Top ten. Or top twenty. You'd have to go pretty far down the list actually before you even found it.

Yunaka shrugs. "Not done, but nobody said you had to get it done all at once." She points out. He's only made two attempts now, after all. If he was pulling these stunts off from the get go...Yunaka would have to start worrying about being out of a job, in all honesty.

She...probably should have seen him making another attempt coming, to be quite honest.

"Oh! Okay!" As requested, she steps back to make space, even as worry pulls her smile down a little. Being stubborn and determined and insistent he could do it was one thing, but she's going to be kicking herself if he gets so caught up and stubborn that he actually hurts himself trying to do this.

She should probably say as much, but the children are whispering amongst themselves excitedly as they back up to watch, eager to see what's going to happen. Piping up in front of them is probably not going to do him any favors...

She especially doesn't expect him to whip out a sword in front of the kids. Yunaka freezes, but thankfully the kids just gasp in awe as Alm spears it into the ground and flips through the air like he's suddenly weightless.

He lands on his feet and there's a moment of silence. Then, an eruption.

The children lose it, cheering and yelling and swarming around him, squabbling and talking over each other as they all try to ask their question the loudest in the hopes that theirs will be the one Alm decides to answer. Yunaka's heart is still kind of settling back in her chest properly, but she manages to force out a laugh and clap for him. "Wowie, great job! I didn't expect anybody to be busting out those kindsa moves today!"

take a break

Restoration

[luxthestrange]

OP Memes#1

*Taps Mic and looks at readers*-Dracule Mihawk has no "Top" bone in his body, Goth boy is a BOTTOM,he is a pillow princess-COME AT ME!-I AINT AFRAID

[todayisafridaynight]

arasawa 'but are they You Know' can be so funny check this out. literally any scenario involving ichiban being nosy

[tonycries]

Love Thy D!LF - T.F.

Synopsis. Yes, your neighbor is a hot, pérvy D!LF. Yes, he’s a total tease. No, you don’t think your poor new bed frame is going to stay in one piece…

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, older! Toji, voyéurísm, pánty-stéaling, male mast., exhibítionísm, he is so DOWN BAD, matíng presses, marathon s, víbrators, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, p slápping, p talking, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, PÚSSYDRÚNK TOJI, proposals, overstím, creampíes, shóoting blanks, he’s a tease that’s shírtless half the time, Megumi’s a real one, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.1k (PHEW)

A/N. Apartment building wouldn’t last a week if he was my neighbor.

Neighbor (UGH): another pair of those cute lil’ pajama shorts made their way onto my balcony again, ma.

Your neighbor was a tease.

Ever since you’d stepped foot into this apartment building a mere few months ago, it seemed like everything and anything he did was to rile your poor head up into a frenzy - and, well, down there…

Because, for lack of a better term, Toji Fushiguro was hot. 

Once your landlord had off-handedly mentioned that the occupant of the apartment right beside your own was a single father, you’d imagined a sweet older man that doted on his young son and would likely steer clear out of your way. 

What you certainly had not expected was for your housewarming gift of a fresh batch of cookies to be oh-so-blatantly greeted by a staggeringly gorgeous man that took up every inch of the doorframe. Shirtless.

Bzzt–!

Your skin burns with the realization of just how deeply you’d been reminiscing back to that heavenly sight, hastily snapping your eyes back onto your blaring phone screen.

Neighbor (UGH): well? hurry before i start to like them too much <3

Ugh, you’re rolling your eyes at that mischievous little heart placed at the end of his text. It was absolutely embarrassing how that was enough to have a tiny squeal slipping through your lips involuntarily. Calling you flirty nicknames, flashing winks your way, lingering his hands just slightly whenever he helped carry your groceries upstairs - Toji did everything. 

You find yourself giving your reflection a slow one-over in your phone camera - just in case. Before padding eagerly down the treacherous pathway that carried you out of your apartment and along the five steps down the corridor to your neighbor’s door. 

Heaving out a shaky breath, you knock.

And Toji Fushiguro never made you wait. He never had you standing in the hallway for more than two seconds before that heavy wooden door swings open…almost as if he’d been suspiciously standing by for this.

“Took ya long enough. Heh, I was beginning to think you almost wanted me to have it, doll.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit, you should’ve known - and it takes every ounce of will in your body to keep your gaze locked with the forest-green eyes sweeping down the expanse of your figure. Greedily. 

Because Toji was showing off what looked like miles upon miles of slightly-tanned, bulging muscles that were just about seconds away from ripping straight through the thin, white undershirt that stuck to him like a second skin. Molding to every curve and dip down, down, down- 

It’s not something new exactly, and if there was one thing you’d learned during your time here, it was that your eccentric neighbor wasn’t shy to show skin.

Especially around you. 

In one hand was grasped the soft fabric of your cotton shorts, swallowed up by his thick digits. The other propping up on top of the door to flex his strong biceps in a way that makes you gulp. 

You notice with a jolt that Toji’s pinkish tongue briefly peaks out to swipe over that sinful scar sitting prettily at the very edge of his smug smirk. Moving to hum cockily, “Cat got yer tongue?”

He knew what he was doing. 

God, this was already shameful enough without him making it worse. You were only grateful that so far you’d been called over for only a few sundresses and t-shirts - nothing scandalous, yet. 

“No-” you’re mumbling out. Trying oh-so-hard to not let your eyes flicker to the too-tight strain of his boxers around his thick thighs. Failing. “Just wondering how you probably need those shorts more than me, anyway.”

He didn’t - in fact, you’d prefer him without one.

A fat thumb of his finds its way to the hem of his boxers, tugging down so tantalizingly slightly to give you a sexy flash of skin. Lined with a sharp hipbone, and a dark happy trail - “S’that your way of tellin’ me you want me out of this, ma?”

“You wish, pervert.” You try to swipe at your shorts, only for Toji to dangle it far, far away from you. “I just meant those b-boxers look like they’ve seen better days. Years, even.” 

“Hah?” Toji’s dragging out mockingly, leaning his broad shoulders against the doorframe. He’s crossing his hands, letting your sight be obscured by the display of his strong, rippling forearms. So close now that you feel his breath fan your face, could smell every waft of his cinnamony masculine scent. Grin only widening, “M’being nice enough to take the time outta my day to hand over your cute lil’ pieces of laundry and this is how ya talk to me? I have better things to do, y’know.”

Huffing, you’re ready with a quick apology on the very tip of your tongue to get this over with as soon as possible. That is, before-

“He’s lying.”

Both of you snap your heads down towards the direction of the sullen, deadpanning voice. And you already know by the wearied sigh at the end who it belongs to. 

“Why, hello there, Megs-” you’re smiling, reaching out to ruffle those spikes of black hair that’d magically manifested beside the door. Ignoring Toji’s affronted grunts of “he never lets me do that.”

“He’s lying, y’know.” Megumi blinks his eyes up at you, and you silently wonder just how it was possible for a six-year-old to look like he’s seen all the horrors of the world already. He’s ruthless. Pointing a sharp, accusatory finger up at his father, “He doesn’t have better things to do. He’s been giggling disgustingly to himself in front of the door for the past-”

“That’s enough- why don’t you get some homework done, my son.” Toji’s clapping his hand immediately over Megumi’s mouth, wrangling his tiny, thrashing body over one shoulder before briefly disappearing inside. 

“Just tell her!”

“I’m taking your iPad time away!”

It’s just about all that you hear from inside before he makes his appearance again - shaggy, black tresses now disheveled, high cheekbones flushed, and from the corner of your very obvious staring you notice a pearly bead of sweat disappear between his cushiony pecs. Though, your eyes follow, you didn’t mind…

“Tch- kids these days, right?” he’s gasping in a few hurried lungfuls. Planting the shorts into your open palms, his calloused pads linger on your hand. “S-so uh, I take that the dryer’s not working, yet?”

You’re sighing, rubbing your fingers over your throbbing temples. “Yeah, I told Higuruma- our landlord to look at it, but he’s still on that business trip and won’t be back for a while. Sorry about all this, Toji.”

“Please-” he’s waving. “You worry your pretty lil’ head too much, it’s not like m’complaining now. Am I?”

“Yeah but-”

“Besides. Why don’t I take a look at it?”

“What?” your brows scrunch together, and the thought of Toji being inside your home made your words tremble ever-so-slightly with- anticipation? Excitement? Want? Whatever it was, it made his dark brows raise, and you’re sure you had an utterly unexplainable look on your face right now. “Do you even know how to?”

He’s scoffing, eyes rolling at you with practice. “Asking me if I know how to fix shit- of course, I fuckin’ know how to fix a dryer. Probably better than ol’ clipboard Higuruma himself. You need to be taken care of, y’know.”

And, yes, that might be so - but more than that came the idea that Toji had to enter your home to do so. You couldn’t help but think of something else. Making you mutter out a heated, “I’ll…consider it.”

He smiles a smug smile, a tiny dimple digging into the very end of his cheek. “Tha’s what I like to hear, ma.”

The very second that door shuts, you’re rushing back to your own apartment. Shorts clutched to your thumping heartbeat and thighs slightly weaker than they were just a few minutes ago. Slightly…hotter. Ready to scramble back into your bedroom and create just a bit more laundry for tomorrow. 

And only a few seconds later does Toji find himself doing the most pathetic fistbump behind closed doors. The beginnings of a sleazy smile on the very edges of his lips. 

“Smooth, dad.”

“Now I’m serious about no iPad-”

Megumi’s running back into his room before that rasping threat has even left Toji’s predictable lips. Grumbling, he’s making his way to that godforsaken frog-cased iPad cushioned in the middle of the sofa, possibly to hide it away for a few hours.

And then, he sees it. 

Now, one of the very reasons that Toji had rented this apartment in the first place was for that idyllic skyline winking up from over his balcony. Towering buildings, flashing lights, all overlooking his living room couch - which, unfortunately for him - or, well, fortunately more like - just-so-happened to be positioned right next to your own balcony lined with laundry. 

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise for him to catch a fluttering piece of cotton or ratty sleep shirt of yours for him to tease about later. 

With a sigh at the flashing piece of fabric, he’s shuttering the sliding window open - ready to call your pretty self over again before-

“Shit.” Toji hisses, deep baritone wavering. His brows are raising down at the stray cloth, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp. You really wear this type of shit? Well, he shouldn’t exactly be surprised but…

But this?

Because wrapped easily around his long fingers was a pair of pretty, pretty lace panties. Panties. All pink and see-through enough that Toji thinks he could see his own fingerprints through that flimsy excuse of underwear. 

All of a sudden…his hands mindlessly raise up, up, up - mere inches away from his nose when…fuck.

“Damn, woman.” he’s spitting, snapping back to his senses. Ignoring the tightening in his pants to speedwalk his hasty way over to his bedroom in search of his phone. Just a few clicks away from texting you- “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me I swear-”

And, see, Toji Fushiguro isn’t the type to stutter. 

He isn’t the pathetic type to let anyone else’s voice shoot a bolt of electricity down his spine - to choke right in the middle of his sentence. 

But, you always did throw him off, didn’t you?

Because he’s letting his maw slack open in a sharp gasp- no, shudder at the muffled, drawling sound from beyond the walls. Fingers loosening around his phone in sheer shock when he snaps his head towards his shared wall where your bedroom was. 

Where he could hear your honeyed voice. Moaning. 

And Toji gulps…before locking the door to his bedroom.

Like an animal, he’s immediately sneaking up to press his greedy ear against the wall where it was emanating from. Aching for every tiny gasp and whine, he could just imagine the way you were splayed out across your plush mattress, fingers buried deep.

So cute.

“Please- it feels s-so good.” Comes your cute mewl, followed by the buzzing vrrrr—! of what he assumes to be that hot pink rose toy of yours that’d accidentally gotten delivered to his address last week. And Toji almost snickers.

“F-fuck-” he breathes out shakily. Unabashedly listening for more, more, more- “Ya can’t be serious- what a treat.”

And Toji knows he should be the bigger person and stop listening, he knows he should ignore the sultry way your trembling moans were sending shockwaves down to his tight boxers. But he can’t.

“Ngh- r-right there-” you’re whimpering, and Toji tuts at the way he could’ve found your sweet spots much earlier. “-yeah- hah- jus’ a little more- Toji-”

His phone clatters! to the ground.

Did you just say…his name?

“Fuck-” One massive hand of his comes down to clap over his jaw-dropped mouth, biting back an answering moan coming from something dangerously dark, primal from inside his heaving chest. 

Shit, he can’t breathe - he can’t even think right now because every drop of blood in Toji’s entire body was sprinting down to his heavy cock smacking down his thigh. Rock-hard. Angry. Just twitching when your voice repeats his name louder. 

“Toji—!”

Ah, there it was again. And with it, he can feel every shred of his sanity being thrown away. Only once- twice was enough to get Toji addicted. To have his melty mind yearning to hear it again. And again. And again and again and-

Toji feels pathetic. 

Like some hormone-hazed, younger version of himself when his hands frantically fumble their way to hook into the elastic band of his boxers. Feeling absolutely zero guilt when he tugs-

Toji was hard. Painfully, furiously hard just from the mere sound of your voice. Swollen and sobbing. It was enough to have his fat, strawberry-pink tip smack! against his toned abs, smearing down a wet glissade of precum that makes him hiss. All but drooling at the scratch of your panties being wrapped delicately around his sensitive shaft. 

“Oh god.” he’s breathing out, thumbing over a wet glide on the bawling divot of his swollen head. It’s pooling like a translucent little puddle, wet enough that those pearlescent beads gloss a wet trail all the way down to his wrist. And he’s popping the salted-caramel digit into his mouth. “Wh-who the fuck do ya think you are ta get me this hard, ma?”

The fat curve of his thumb latches on to plug up the very ends of his cock, stopping himself from wasting a single precious drop before listening.

For anything.

“C-c’mon–” Toji lets his heavy body lean against the wall after a few more sloppy squelches that pull from your saturated cunt. He could already hear how dripping wet you were. How needy. “Wanna hear your hah- pretty lips talk-”

Toji’s sinking his sharp canines onto his lower lip to hold back a groan. Because as much as he loved to hear himself talk - hearing you moan was worth more than anything. Even if it cost him his rationality to quieten down. Please- 

Ah, his prayers are answered.

Because the wall slightly jitters with your vibrating voice once more. “Oh- sh-shit it feels so good-”

“Heheh, does it?” he’s grunting, drawing a slow wetness of swirls on the underside of his slit. Hard enough to send him seeing stars. “Tell me- t-tell me more, ma.”

And could you read his mind?

Because whatever’s left of it certainly seems to think so at the way that no sooner are the words spilling from his babbling lips that you’re feeding his blessed ears with a few more syrupy sweet whines. And Toji shivers when he hears the creak of your bed.

Damn…he could make it break. He’s sure. 

The thought is enough to send his hips rutting into his fist, furiously fucking up into it like he was angry. Like he wishes he could do with you-

“O-oh-” Toji gasps out a hot, condensed breath feeling the slight massage of your thin panties at his twitchy balls. He’s unsteadily picking its sticky cloth apart to press it even deeper into the drenched tufts of black at his hilt, down every thumping vein that’s lightning-bolted down his length. “This thing b-barely even wraps around my cock, doll.”

He’s hot. So, so hot. Latching onto the hem of his undershirt with his teeth to swipe across his sensitive nipples. 

Burning.

And, really, he didn’t know what was worse for his poor self - your noises from just the other room, or the way your panties felt so good down his cock in this one. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He twirls your panties around his fat hilt, meshing against the creamy pink at his hefty base. Fucking it up, up, up with pound after pound that half-leaves the poor thing in tatters. Well, he sure hoped you didn’t like this pair too much. “Probably so fuckin’ oh- wet now, huh? Did I do that? Didn’t know you were s-such a slut f’me.”

Every slobbering drag down his length has Toji’s dark brows knitting together. Back and forth back and forth back and- So hard. 

So hot and heavy. He could barely catch his breath, sweat perspires across his forehead, and Toji could almost taste the metallic tang of blood when he’s holding back every rasping ah! ah! ah! just to hear your voice. 

It was agonizing. 

And he couldn’t help but imagine the way you were probably toying your tired fingers over your clit - the way you’d probably be so shy at how he could so clearly hear you. Killing Toji that it was the only thing he could do.

SLAM!

“Shit-” Toji’s snapping his head up at the mindless way his free hand had come smashing down onto the nearby drawer for any shred of balance. Sharp ears searching desperately for any sign that you’d heard-

“Ngh- yes- jus’ a bit more-”

He breathes out a guilty sigh of relief when the saturated slurps of your cunt only continue. Filling his mind sloppily like his favorite song. Gulping in a harsh wad of saliva before spitting a thick stream right onto the very edge of his plump, reddish head. His hulking body wracks with a violent shudder as it drip! drip! drips down every tender spot on his swollen cock. Beading down to cover his heavy balls in a thin sheen of spit. 

“Look what you’ve done.” he’s spitting. Other hand coming down to rub lazy, massaging circles around his bulbous, cum-filled sacks. The sheer stimulation enough to have his head lolling drunkenly against the wall.

“M’so close-” Your voice only makes Toji fuck into his hand even harder - if only it was you. You, you, you - the only thing playing around his currently stupid mind. “-g-gonna cum ah-”

That makes him bawl out another furious wave of precum staining your panties see-through, glinting with every flutter down his raw cock. Faster. It was building and building up so close-

“C-close already?” he’s snickering, bending at the knees with how weak he was. Toji’s biceps flex and and ache with just how wildly he was fucking up into his fist, abs rippling with each wild buck. He half-wonders if he’d be able to see that pretty frilly pattern of your panties imprinted on his cock the next day. Over and over- ���I woulda m-made you cum sooner.”

Would your beautiful eyes roll to the very back of your head when you did?

Would you beg him to cum, too? To fill you up. To breed you. Shit, that had his hefty shaft twitch in his hands, electricity flashing behind Toji’s eyes. 

Would you moan his name - oh, please moan his name.

“P-please-” Toji finds himself gasping, and his entire body was hunched over now. Pathetic. Waiting for any second that you’d reach your high - he was a gentleman, after all. “Cum f’me- ah fuck fuck fuck-” Twiddling a manicured thumb in a slow line underneath his sensitive slit, it was making him moan so dangerously loud. “-please- cum on this fuckin’ cock, ma.”

“Fuck! Toji-” Comes your yelp, and it makes his mouth water. Breath held in a choked-up gasp in his puffing chest, “-m’cumming.”

He could see it already - just how pretty you’d look with your head thrown back and your back arching into his cock when you finally reach your high. 

Now, Toji doesn’t know what overtook him to drag those drenched panties up to his face - to press it thoroughly against his nose and smell your essence. Breathing it in. drinking it in. But he can’t pretend like he hadn’t imagined it many, many times before. 

And it makes him cum 

It makes him shudder with a heavy puff of air, once. Twice. Before dumping and dumping out stringy wads of seed until your soft panties were soaked.

“Oh shit- shit shit shit-” he spews out a slurring slew of profanities, painfully hard cock bursting at the end with wet splatters of cum. So much of it. It’s making such a filthy mess that he almost feels guilty. 

Jaw clenching when he’s forced to part with your panties with a pained gruff, sliding it along his thoroughly coated cock. Hi cum seeps through the fabric and into a milky puddle that pools at his wrist, dripping down a milky sheen across his skin. 

“Mmpf–” his mouth salivates. A low, disappointed scoff bursting at the back of his throat when your own obscene noises quieten down. He missed you already. Dewy eyes veering to the back of his head, he’s only wondering how much prettier these would look on you. Still as ruined. “You’d be lucky to get these fuckin’ panties back, woman.”

Bzzt–! 

From its discarded place on the floor, he can read the notification flashing across the phone screen.

Cutie-next-door: I’ve decided - can you come by tomorrow to fix the dryer, pleeeease?

---

“-ah, ya see when this vent is clogged s’gonna stop working. And so what you hafta do is-”

You weren’t listening.

You couldn’t.

Because Toji Fushiguro was sprawled out across your cramped kitchen - completely shirtless.

You had half the mind to turn him away after he’d knocked on your door with absolutely no sign of any upperwear - that sleazy grin plastered all over his face begging the answer to whether this was on purpose. To tease you. “Can move better this way” your ass. 

But the thought of having even more of your laundry fly away, forcing you to potentially face this very same display multiple times is what had you opening your front door wider to let him inside. 

No matter how much you would’ve appreciated the view…

And so here you were, squirming in one corner of the kitchen while Toji worked on your dryer. Sweat sheening down his swole muscles, disappearing in tempting beads down underneath his low-hanging pants. Slight smears of grease decorate his pecs, and you have to cross your arms to stop yourself from thumbing them away. He was so handy. 

Shit, this was why you’d dolled-up just a bit more than usual. He was so-

“-doll? Doll.”

“Uh-” you’re yelping, blinking your eyes back up to meet an extraordinarily smug smirk now directed at you. “W-what were you saying?”

“Heh, I was saying you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he titters with a slight rumble, tools clinking when he’s taking off his bulky gloves. “Ya can enjoy the view later, but I was askin’ if ya had anything to dry right now to test this piece of junk.”

Urgently, you’re looking towards your empty laundry basket. “Sorry, seems that I dried them all out yesterday.”

“No pressure, besides-” You can only watch when he shuffles a hand inside one of his curiously bulging pant pockets. “-I came prepared.”

“Wh-wha- where did you get that?” 

Because held so daintily within Toji’s cocky clutches, dangled one of your missing pairs of panties. They looked recently washed, and you’re reaching with a yelp for it. Falling onto your knees to match his seated position - which, obviously didn’t mean he’d hand it over. 

Why would he? This was Toji Fushiguro. 

He only throws them into your dryer, before closing the door with a dark snicker, “More like why let them fly their merry way over to my balcony again. Honestly- you call me the tease but look who’s talking.”

“You’re saying I’m the tease?” you shrill. The embarrassment was getting to you now - it was overconsuming you - and if the leering smirk on Toji’s face was anything to go by, you were sure that it was visible. 

“If the shoe- or, well, panties fit.”

He was so cocky about his stupid lil’ joke. 

You stab a rude finger right between the valley of his pecs, copping a feel of the velvety smooth skin. “Sh-shut up, if you want to talk about a tease then let’s talk about who showed up to fix a dryer shirtless.”

“Part of the outfit.” he shrugs. Tilting his head up at you, and shit, it finally hits you how precariously close you two are right now. Toji’s splayed out on your cool kitchen tile, while you’re straddling his slender waist with jittery legs, pressed up against the heated proximity of his unfairly shirtless body. Chest-to-chest. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the view, little miss had-a-fun-time-yesterday.”

You blink, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But in true Toji fashion, the closest to an answer you get is a large hand attaching roughly onto your waist. Jostling your body close enough for him to breathe out in a feverish chuckle - hot, and purposeful against your ear. “The walls are thin. Just sayin’.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - and so did he. 

“...I heard you, too, y’know.”

Ah, you can now live your life happily knowing that you managed to make the ever-confident Toji gasp. You managed to make him part his lips in a slight gape, green eyes glinting with a hint of something dangerous as they widen. His sensory digits pinch at your hips. 

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Uncharacteristically, Toji takes a few gulping seconds to find his voice. And when he does - the very sound is enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wonder for a split-second whether this was really him. Hoarse, pained when he muses, “You heard me and still continued?”

Instantly, you’re trying to form excuses. “No! I mean- yes. It’s just that…”

“Heh, cute. You continued because of me- didn’t ya?”

Your jaw drops in shock, now a slightly defensive tone bleeding in with the embarrassment of your actions. “I-I mean I was doing- it- just fine before I heard you.”

Toji cocks his head, and only says one thing - “Prove it.”

.

.

.

“T-Toji this is embarrassing-”

But oh, all that Toji was wondering was whether he’d knocked his head on that goddamn dryer and gone to heaven already. 

Because splayed out for all his pleasure on the cushiony bed was you - quivering legs straddled wide open, your back arched in such a delicious curve that makes his mouth water. Your silken sheets were disheveled and sloppy enough that you’d have to pray the dryer works now. Glistening cunt winking down at him eagerly, just begging him in cute, slurring squelches after every buzzing push of your vibrator.

And Toji? Seated right underneath your cute cunt - hovering mere inches away from sitting on his cocky smirk. 

All he’d been imagining. As gorgeous as how he’d imagined you yesterday- no, even more so.

Toji’s leering up at you, muscular thighs manspreading even more to show off his furiously hard erection. “Shhh sh sh-” Toji hums, eyes unwavering from right between your legs. “She’s the one talkin’ to me right now, doll.”

And surely enough, it’s almost like he’s having a conversation with your pussy. Nodding and drunkenly humming along to every slurp that resounds across the heady room. “Tha’s right, make her- make her even wetter for me.”

He’s letting loose his long pinkish tongue to catch the drops of your sweet, sweet juices that slide down his throat. 

His breath is so steaming hot against your cunt. Feverish. You huff out a dragged-out whine, kissing up your plump clit with the very edge of your rose toy. Just barely teasing the sensitive hood, “B-but I need you so-”

“Now now, what did I say?” he tuts away your stubborn moans easily. And you’re gazing over your shoulder upon the utterly unapologetic grin that falls across Toji’s face when he tugs down his own pants to flash you with the fat, rotund curve of his ruddied tip. Curling his fingers over the very top, “You don’t need me, remember- Let that pretty pussy talk with me or all you’re gonna do is watch.”

Except now you didn’t think you could talk even if you wanted to.

Your eyes are glazing over with a fresh wall of need when they fall greedily upon the peaking sight of Toji’s fat cock. So massive that it makes your jaw slip open, your cunt gushing out in a few gushes of slick. 

“Oh shit- shit-” his eyes widen at the sight, so thoroughly honed in. Almost as if he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking to you. Doesn’t even know. And a few ringing squelches is all it takes for him to throw his head back with a groan. “That got ya wet, ma, didn’t it? Made your cute ngh- c-cunt happy?”

“Yes-” you’re gasping, winking away the overstimulated tears in your eyes. “B-but I want you-”

“Tell me exactly  what you want, doll.”

So bossy, you want to snap back. 

But right now you’re too hypnotized by the slutty sight of him to say a word. The way he seemed so ruined. That you can’t help but whimper, “I want you to hah- make me cum.”

And it’s just a split-second later when his brawny arms come wrapping around your jittery waist, hauling you over like some glorified rag doll to seat your fatigued legs down. Your dripping cunt meeting his mouth in a sultry, sultry French kiss. 

He doesn’t waste a second longer - almost as if beating himself up for all the time wasted - before dragging his tongue to open your presoaked folds. Swirling so hotly to smear them out across his lips, Toji dredges his raised scar across your most tender spots and moans. 

Sweet.

So sweet.

“This- this fuckin’ delicious?” He sounded like he was losing his mind, swatting aside your hand. “Move that fuckin’ hand. Y-you were- you were holding out on this? Could eat this cute cunt all the time- could marry ya-”

Proposing and proposing and kissing-

He latches down his glistening canines around your clit and pinches, almost as if a little punishment. And you could practically see the delight lighting up his dark eyes when your cunt slowly grows even more drenched. Little masochist, he’s thinking. 

You yelp when without any sort of warning his cheeks hollow out in a sudden suck at your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue over it. “H-how’s that feel?” he giggles - giggles. “Better than your imagination or what?”

It already was. 

But you couldn’t let his ego expand anymore than it already has, so the only thing you’re managing to do is trap a few sweat-dampened locks of his hair and drag your slobbering cunt down Toji’s mean mouth. Partly because you needed it, partly because you needed him to shut up. 

Choking out, “D-don’t get so full of yourself, Toji–”

“Full of myself?” he’s chuckling - face smeared with a translucent mask of glistening slick that told you exactly why he should be full of himself. It glosses over his curled lips and drips down Toji’s sharp jawline. “Full of myself? Gimme that-”

Instantly, your till buzzing vibrator is being snatched meanly out of your hands. “S’this what ya want, instead, ma?”

Toji didn’t expect an answer.

And you can’t give him one.

Because that furiously jittery probe is being bullied right between your puffy pussy lips, licking a languid line down the edge of your sloppy hole. Before he’s bullying the long end inside your eager entrance-

“Does it feel good?” he’s taunting. Sinking down onto your clit and pulling. “Oh yeah- feels great. Doesn’t it?”

But it’s such a mouthful that sputtered out into your clit. The vibrations of white-hot pleasure making your spine bow like such a slut into Toji’s ravenous mouth. And your jaw slack open in the most strained of whines, “Y-yeah feels so-mmpf-”

Immediately, your mouth is being firmly shut closed with one of Toji’s mountainous palms, and he snickers. Giving you pretty lil’ cunt a pat that has splatters of slick speckling all the way to his lips - ones that he gladly licks up. And then some at the remnant excess all over your thighs. “I was talking to her.”

“Y-you’re so mean.”

At this, he pulls back and blows a heated gust of air against your puckered hole. “And you’re fucking drenched.” That spearing bullet is lodged firmly against a few tenderized sweet spots that make you keen. “And she’s saying…s’not enough.”

You were sure he was talking for himself. 

Or…was he? 

Honestly, you don’t even know - you didn’t even realize what you were missing until the fat girths of Toji’s digits shove their filthy way into your narrow opening. Already so stuffed, yet, he’s scissoring aside the vibrator into the gooey depths of your walls. 

Either you could take him or he’ll make space. 

Whistling out in awe, “Dontcha think this feels muuuch better?” As if to whittle out another one of your syrupy sweet noises, you’re being gifted with another sopping wet thwack! against the ready nub of your clit. Before Toji wraps his scarred lips around it and sucks. “Look- she’s even fuckin’ wetter.”

You didn’t even have to see to be able to know - because you could hear. 

Toji was steadily pummeling your cunt with the most staggering smashes of the rounded curves of his fingertips into your sweetest spots. Jostling the vibrator inside, knuckles smashing it with friction to rub up against your constricting walls. 

Honestly, it was just so much. You felt stuffed. 

“F-feels like m’gonna explode.” you mewl at the heady thump! thump! thump! shuddering all across your body - and you didn’t know whether it was because of the thundering pulse in your ears, because of the way Toji’s fingers were crashing and thrusting against your tender g-spot. His neatly cut fingernails glide soaking wet grazes over and over in a sloppy staccato. “Ah! Right there, it f-feels so good-”

“Tch, you think I don’t know?” Toji’s rolling his eyes, muttering his words into your sopping slit. His free hand comes slamming down in a harsh smack! against your ass to make you lug against his face faster. “Ride yourself on me, ma.”

You stumble through it - yearning for more. 

“Faster.”

“I-I’m trying.’”

But it wasn’t enough. Obviously. 

And Toji’s impatiently revolving one hand around the curve of your waist to make you press down hard in the most sultry gyrations. Around and around it had him hypnotized. “Not tryin’ hard ‘nough. Cuz this pretty lady h-here’s just crying to cum, doll. Ya hear her?”

How could you not?

It’s all that you replay in your mind. Accompanied with a shot ngh ngh ngh that was curdling at the very back of Toji’s throat. Whispered into every graze of his tongue down your slit, you took a quick glance backwards to catch the way that he was properly fucking his fist now. 

Long, thorough drags down his achy cock to bead out wet sloshes of precum. Only getting faster. Sloppier. Red and angry-

“Shit.” you’re whimpering, hands steadying on either side of his bulging deltoids. It felt like your very bones were rattling along with the vibrator. Nails digging in to the muscle, “I th-think m’close- think m’gonna-”

And oh Toji’s eyes stray to the back of his head at how reminiscent this was of just yesterday. Snickering a heavy, “You ‘think’? I know she’s so fuckin’ close. Can feel her. Isn’t she? Gonna cum? Gonna make a ngh- mess on me, is she?”

Answeringly, he’s leaving another few smacks! on your mound that have your gooey walls fluttering, the double penetration of both the buzzing bullet and his fingers too much. Too close. You feel every delicate bundle of your nerves exasperate. 

And it’s impossible not to mumble out drunkenly - embarrassingly. “Sh-she is.”

It’s so rough.

Both your release and the way that Toji was fucking you through it - because the very moment he hears your breath hitch in a saturated manner similar to last time, he’s tugging out your buzzing vibrator and toppling it somewhere over the bed. Replacing it with every long inch of his heated tongue- 

Like hell he’d have you cumming on some damn plastic before his tongue.

“Shit- it feels so-” Barely managing to formulate the words into coherent syllables. Your body convulses when he swiftly pecks your pretty clit with the rose toy instead. “-so good- ngh! M’cumming m’cumming ah-”

Toji’s fucking you through your high with the double stimulation of his fingers and his tongues spreading open your snug insides mercilessly. Ruthlessly. Wave upon wave of pleasure that had your toes curling, vision flashing white. Sensitive pussy dredging up from the very bottom of his sharp chin all the way up to his button nose. 

It’s adorable how tired you were already, already huffing and puffing for breath. He could almost laugh if he didn’t have a mouthful already.

“Yeah tha’s right-” he slurps, more than talks. Thick digits curling tight and thumbing over his twitchy divot to wall up that velvety wisp of cum from escape. Leaving kiss after kiss to have your drooling cunt ride his sexy features faster. “-give it t’me.” Greedy. “Give it alllll to me.”

But even that didn’t seem like enough.

Because even after your aggressive orgasm was petering out into mere tingles at your quivering pussy, even after he’d slurped up every tiny drop of your honeyed juices - Toji Fushiguro was starved. 

So completely ravenous when he speaks, “I think…she’s sayin she wants ta squirt, doll.”

“Wh-what?” you’re breathing - you didn’t even know if that was possible.

With a surprising amount of gentleness, Toji’s placing you to sit all prettily on his spread legs. Just slobbering your pussy lips in an innocent smooch over his hardness. 

“Heh, what? Don’t trust me?” Toji cocks his head down at you in sheer smugness, a glistening gloss stained all around his lips. It made him look so fucked-out. And he felt like he already was - but Toji wouldn’t admit that. No, he’s only murmuring a wet, “Or are ya scared that m’gonna get ya ah- addicted?”

You showcase him with a slight pout that makes his riled-up cock twitch in one hand. That makes him immediately kiss it away - letting you taste him. Taste yourself. 

It’d already taken everything in him to stop himself from cumming just by making out with your cunt. 

“No s’just that- I’ve never squirted before…”

His words are sure. Confident. He’s echoing them from not too long ago, “Lemme take a look at that.”

And apparently Toji’s definition of taking a look is to slide the curve of his thick thumb in-between your dribbling slit. Up and down until his lips curl in a smile, “Well she’s tellin’ me that she can-oh shit, look at that.” Those very same fingers wrapping around the hilt of his thick cock to nudge your folds apart. “So why don’t I fix that, hm?”

God, Toji is so much bigger than he looked - which was staggering considering his sheer bulge was enough to send your mind reeling.

The curve of his fat tip bathes in a few more of your syrupy drops before bullying inside-

“O-oh my god-” Your voice wavers, sweat simmering all down your body at how dizzyingly Toji was spearheading your cunt open. Wide. So much of him that you didn’t know whether to buck your hips away or down for more, more, more- “S’too big- shit, don’t even know if I can ngh- t-take it, Toji–!”

“Oh, say my name like that once more n’ you’re gonna ah- hafta take every inch.” he grunts out, snarling smile making your gummy walls flutter around him. 

You’re being fed every solid inch, Toji’s girth making your tight circumference stutter. Gaping your sloppy hole wide open around his expanding cock- shit, just the slightest peak into your heavenly depths was enough to have his fat length swelling. Pushing into your tender sweet spots when he grows. 

“Y-you got even bigger?” you gasp, and it makes him cackle.

Throwing his head back to laugh, “Of course I got f-fuckin’ bigger when you feel like this, ma.” And two of his roughened palms glide their greedy pathway downwards to spread your thighs even further. Using gravity to his lewd advantage to help you gulp down your every mindless grind to simply fit himself inside. “W-where have ya been all my life.”

And Toji sounded like he was genuinely distraught that he didn’t know. 

He was genuinely so upset, lower lip wobbling with pure bliss once your overstuffed pussy was resting on his sharp hip bones. Giving an experimental little gyration of his hips to swirl his shaft around your walls, it makes you whine. 

“Tha’s what m’fuckin’ talking about.”

And then in a split-second, you’re being slammed onto your back and wrangled into the meanest mating press you never thought possible. 

It’s like Toji was out of control. 

Feral.

A slight trickle of drool trailing down the edge of his growling lips, “Shit- take my fucking cock ngh- take it all, doll. Ya don’t know how long I’ve been d-dreaming of this.”

“Yes yes yes-” you sputter. Edging your uselessly limp thighs to lock around Toji’s straining neck - and if he was going easy on you before. Then oh, you weren’t ready for the way this makes him snap his flexing body down to fold you in half. His sweat-beaded forehead knocking gently into yours, “-been ah- been dreamin’ of this ever since I m-moved in-”

Shit.

The thick pudge of Toji’s relentless head careens into the bullseye of your g-spot easily. And Toji titters to himself about the pretty moans that drag from your shot throat - that is, if he had the self-control.

Because your previous words were still thundering in his pussydrunken mind, and it makes him gasp. It makes him shoot his eyes open almost comically, it makes him crash his lips into your with a sullen hiss. “Give a man a fuck- warning. You c-can’t just say- things- like- that-”

As if to prove his point, he’s planting a few more heated French kisses against your sweetest spots. How he mapped them out so quickly you had no idea. 

His feverish breath hovers over your own mouth, gusts bounding out with every pound into your cunt. He’s bruising the circular branding of his sobbing tip down your spongy cervix, a tiny ah! of disappointment leaving Toji’s stern lips at the recoil that had him pushing back from the very bottom of your pussy. 

He’s so filthy. 

“Because what if–” It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s still babbling drunkenly, flicking over a calloused thumb over your clit to get your delirious attention. “-are ya listening, woman? What- ah- what if I told ya I was the fuckin’ same. Wanted to f-fuck this cute cunt the moment I saw ya, wanted to ruin her- to breed her-”

And just when he’s heaving in such a sharp inhale. As if he’s spoken too much.

Yet, even through the way that Toji was fucking you stupid - you still manage to latch onto his words. 

“Y-you wanted to ah- cum inside?” you’re blinking up at him innocently in a way that only made his hips jackhammer against yours harder. Teasing your sensitive clit with a pinch. “Tell me, Toji.”

God- you said his name. 

Shit shit shit, didn’t he tell you not to-

“Yes!” Toji’s shuddering out, hefty balls twitching and thwacking their tight, cum-filled sacks against your ass. He’s fucking you so wildly. The mating press that he had you in let him glide a wet thrust down every single nook and cranny inside you. Every forbidden sweet spot. “Wanted- wanted it so badly- ah-”

Batting your teary lashes, “How badly?”

Two of Toji’s mean fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, and he’s using that cutely ajar opening of your mouth to spit. A thick, honeyed wad of saliva that purposefully splatters along the edge of your lips - because Toji had perfect aim. He could’ve streamlined it all neatly between your lips.

But you looked and tasted so sweet this way.

When he could just kiss it away filthily with a drag of his tongue, “Shit- what a filthy fuckin’ mouth. Ya really know how to m-make me lose my mind, hm?” Splaying out one large palm about halfway down your stomach, he’s exploring for a lewd cylindrical nudge. A throb when his thickened head was smashing into your g-spot. “If ya i-insist- m’gonna fill ya up until I can feel it-” Pressing down. Hard. “Here.” And now he’s running his mouth a mile a minute, he’s dazed where his cadence grows sloppy. “Until you’re overspilling. Until yer all r-round and hngh- glowing and shit-”

God, he was flying too close to the sun.

Egging him on, he was fucking you into the bed like he was furious at you. Lurching out rickety creaks from the bedframe at his riotous slams! Teasing, “S-s’that it?”

“Is that it? I-is that it?” he’s repeating. Over and over like a humorless mantra. “No tha’s not- ah- fucking ‘it’. M’gonna shit- make you mine. Gonna fuck a b-baby or two into ya.” Shockwaves of electric white flashing down his spine when your gripping walls cling around him like a velvety channel. Stumbling through words, “So they’re gonna know- ah- th-they’re all gonna know what I did. Hah- how I ruined ya…”

You can only sob, “Toji– m’gonna-”

Stimulating tears gather up beside Toji’s eyelids with every pressurized ram, and he finds it in himself to rasp a drunken giggle. “G-gonna give Megumi a lil’ sibling, ma?”

He doesn’t have to hear your response, he doesn’t think he can. Because no sooner are you crashing into your orgasm that Toji is as well. 

He realizes before you - far, far before you at how you were squirting. 

Drizzling your juices in a coating gloss down his cock, his abs, some spattering up to Toji’s lips. He took a look into it alright. 

Your bolting waves of bliss intruded by his rummaging cock. Twitching once. Twice. Before struggling out thick gushes of sweltering hot seed. 

It’s splattering onto the very back of your bruised and battered cervix in a wet thwack! Oozing out the sides of your silt, you feel your gummy walls being inflated. The tug of ribbons upon ribbons of cum being fucked into sloshes inside and coats your melty walls like a second, sticky skin.

THUD!

Toji collapses onto his wearied forearms, caging you in with his big beefy biceps. Hips slowing down to tiny, subconscious ruts wrenching out the most obscene wet squelches. “Th-the heh- the fuckin’ bed.”

Only then are you batting your fatigued eyes open to realize that one side of the bed was sagging dangerously. “Toji did you b-break the bed?”

“Ah- so what?” And he’s scooping up your pliant body easily into his arms. Lifting you. Manhandling you. Pulling out of your split cunt for just a second to slam! you down onto your nearby work desk. The cool mahogany against your front makes you hiss, “I’ll jus’ t-take a ah- look at it.”

With this, he’s pressing down on the slightly bloated area near your cunt. Gaping. Gushing out thick remnants of his cum - it’s like he was playing around. 

The sight so heavenly that with a dragged-out gasp he’s finding his weepy cock blast out a few more wispy strands of cum. Shit.

“Shit- marry me-” Toji’s throwing his head back with a whimper - a whimper - when his jolting cock veers dangerously into the territory of shooting overstimulated blanks. “Marry me I-I swear. Gonna ah- put a pretty ring on ya, my doll.”

Which is why he’s swirling around his greedy pointer around your gaping entrance. Toying with the creamy ring of seed that’d painted its way around his thick base. Toji pools a few creamy dredges on his fingers and shoves them into your babbling mouth. “Ngh- Toji–!”

“Nowww, let’s see ngh- already finished off th-the bed-” he’s rattling off. Counting on a few fingers of his, “-we have the ohhh fuck- don’t squeeze m-me like that, ma, m’still sensitive- this desk, the floor- the dryer.”

“The dryer?” you mewl. “But you j-jus’ fixed that-”

“Ah, consider it a lil’ payment…along with those panties of yours, of course.”

And it’s only later. 

Hours and hours later, with your bed frame broken on one leg, your desk absolutely shattered, and your carpet soiled with a few whiteish rivulets that you’re finding yourself seated into a tight full nelson on top of the dryer. Toji still splitting you apart inside, shooting blanks before the front door rattles with a sudden knock! knock! knock! 

A deep voice resounding from outside, “Anybody home? It’s Shiu Kong. Higuruma sent me here to fix the dryer.”

“Fuckin’ Shiu…wanna let him in?”

---

“Hello, Shiu? How did the fixing go?” It’s by the next day that Higuruma gets a call in the middle of his important business meeting. One that would probably stay with him for a long, long time. “What do you mean the dryer is broken beyond repair?!”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.