#things DO go better when they listen to him

[bbokicidal]

"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [I.N]

Everyone decides to take a guess what Jeongin's girlfriend's favorite thing to do in the bedroom is - and almost everyone gets it wrong.

Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Jeongin x Fem!Reader Warnings: SPIT, lots of spit, PinV (wrap it before you tap it), tummy bulge/size kink, manhandling, bondage/hands being bound together, pussy spanking, spanking in general

Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol. <- This is the last installment of this series !! It's finally coming to an end.~

Word Count: 2.2K

"Why does Hyunjin get to go first?" "Because he's already between her legs, I guess."

"Would you two shut up? This is all for educational purposes. You need to watch and learn; Because I'm about to prove to you that I know what her biggest kink is." Hyunjin's head whips to face the two that bicker about him, Jisung stepping back and Felix letting his arms cross over his chest. "Ayen-ah's let on before that she really likes this one." His thumb finds your clit, flicking over the bundle of nerves and you finally give him a soft reaction to work with, your eyes slipping shut and hands curling against your chest in awe.

Felix lets out a heavy breath that ends in a soft whine, his head tipping to the side to get a better look at where his Hyung's cock begins to prod at your folds - and Felix can't help but stare as he slowly sinks into your warmth, wishing it were himself instead. "That's not fair.."

"So what exactly is the kink here...? Or is this just one big excuse to fuck your friend's girlfriend?" Chris quips off to Hyunjin's right, peering almost just over his shoulder to watch as the younger's cock sinks further into you. ".. Going in raw?" He questions shortly after, realizing Hyunjin hadn't slipped a condom on before pushing into you.

And Hyunjin sighs, tongue prodding at the corner of his mouth as he listens to the others continue to bicker about him just wanting to have sex with you.

But then Jisung sees it.

The way your skin tightens; The way your stomach bulges each time Hyunjin slowly rolls his hips forward. The way your head tips back as he leans down over you and whispers for you to feel it, guiding one of your hands away from your chest to instead press down on the very place his cock prods and rocks against. "..Bulging..." He whispers, lips parted in surprise at the sight in front of them.

"That's.. a pretty close second." Jeongin hums. He sits back against the headboard as he watches his Hyung rock into you slowly; He was lucky he got to fuck you at all - with Jeongin's permission of course - so he was going to do it with the utmost care. "But that's definitely not top spot."

Jisung practically barks from where he stands behind Hyunjin, reaching to tug on his shoulder. "I knew that wasn't going to be it-! Move, it's my turn." And to many of their surprise, the artist lets himself be pulled away from your sweetness.

Just as expected, Jisung moves forward instead to test his theory. If he could get this right with his one guess he would win the bet. And the prize... God, he's never imagined something so wonderful in his entire life. One hand drops to lay on your thigh while the other reaches to undo his belt - and he watches your eyes widen in surprise at his bold move, thinking he'd won already. Your lips pop apart and you're sure you're about to drool at the way his fingers curl around the buckle and rip it wide open, his belt dragging through the loops of his jeans in such a quick and slick manner that you're sure this is a practiced move. With your reaction he was sure he just ended the bet.

Jeongin almost moves to ask Jisung what he's going to do with that belt, hoping there's no impact about to be made with the accessory - but he simply sits up and stays quiet as he watches Jisung wrap the thick, heavy leather around your wrists to keep them snug together. Your soft gasp of anticipation feeds into Jisung's delusion that he was winning the bet, letting him pin your arms down above your head before he leans in to smile right in your face. "You like bondage, don't you, angel?"

And your smile grows, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you nod. "I do; I really, really do. But..." Jisung's heart sinks as you giggle. "It's not my favorite."

"Hah!" Changbin's laugh basically spews from his lips in a visual syllable, his arms previously crossed over his chest now gesturing to Jisung to skidaddle. "Go. She said you lost the bet so get off 'er and let someone else have a turn." His lips pull into a soft smirk, parted and exposing the way his tongue pokes between his teeth like he has ideas of his own to try out.

But someone else is just a tad quicker with wanting to win the bet. As soon as Jisung moves off of the bed in front of you to go sit beside Jeongin in defeat, Minho is right there to take his place; Only he doesn't crawl onto the bed to get to you and instead stands at the edge of it, feeling as though he looms over your still-bound body displayed for them so openly atop the sheets.

Your wrists stay above your head as you crane your neck to look at the man standing so close yet so far, only to have your head bounce back against the mattress from the force of Minho's hand locking around your right ankle tight enough you're sure it might bruise. He wastes no time in dragging you to where he stands so he's properly positioned between your legs, his eyes dark as they drag over every curve that comes to him so swiftly. And no one in the room can ignore the way you yelp at the feeling of being manhandled.

Calloused palms and rough fingertips run up the outer expanse of your thighs, coming nowhere near close to your warmth as they wander higher. He grips at your hips and gives them a teasing squeeze, feeling the way your skin presses between his fingers; So soft, so tempting. With careful but fairly stiff and rough movements, the muscle in his biceps tightens and flexes as he flips you from your back to your front - your face down and ass up for him. A position most would expect when it came to the resident ass-lover of the group. "There we go."

And with the way you moan the moment your face hits the sheets everyone in the room can almost guarantee Minho had won the bet fair and square. That was until your head slowly lifted from where it pressed against the mattress, breathing heavy with eyes dragging up towards your boyfriend where he sat now in front of you - smirking and letting his arms slowly cross over his chest. "You gonna tell them, baby, or do I have to?"

"There's no way that wasn't it." But Seungmin steps forward to test his luck anyway. Even if Minho won the bet just now, he wanted to get his own needs met, his palm smacking down hard on the bare skin of your asscheeks twice before he brought his hand lower and let it meet the wetness of your folds. That gets you to jolt, a sharp gasp escaping swollen lips.

The way you whimpered against the satin of your sheets almost made Seungmin think he was right about his guess, but the glance and small shake of Jeongin's head seemed to secure the realization that he was wrong, too. Seungmin sighs out and brings his hand down harder than before, making you flinch and moan loud - just for him, considering he'd been spanking you for his own satisfaction at that point. May as well let him know you appreciated it while it happened - and that you were open to it in the future, too, of course.

"I'm starting to think we're never going to guess it," Chris murmurs from where he stands near Changbin, leaning against the wall just to watch as everyone took guess after guess. "Maybe we should start going for softer kinks? Stuff that's less harsh...?"

Changbin shakes his head almost immediately. "She seems like the type who would like impact play or something, though. Do we need to go for something more extreme..?"

"What if it's got something to do with toys?" Jisung quips quietly, seated on the edge of the bed and fighting hard not to beg for another chance at winning the bet.

While the producers babbled on to each other about where to go from their current point, Felix stepped forward from where he'd been observing the entire time the others tried to figure out what it was you liked. You'd reacted well to everything they'd done so far; Hyunjin's size, Jisung's restraining, Minho's manhandling, and then Seungmin's spanking. There was no way in Hell you didn't enjoy the more hard-hitting kinks and the like - so he was going to take his chance while the others whined to each other about losing the bet. Besides, they were working against each other - not with.

"Move." Felix hums, gently nudging Minho aside. The older of the two surprisingly complies with ease and steps aside to watch Felix with close eyes, his hands settling on your ass before rubbing down to your hips. There's no hold, no grabbing - no slapping, spanking, bruising or restraining. No, Felix's hands are gentle as they rub over your skin, smoothing down the swell of your ass before giving a teasing squeeze and trailing lower. He settles his hands along your thighs before using his thumbs to spread your pussy open just for him to see - and for Minho to get a glance at.

Chris tips his head as he watches, eyes drawn away from Jisung and Changbin when Felix had stepped forward to take a shot at the prize. "Felix, wait. We should figure out what --"

But then he stops, lips popping apart in pure surprise at the utter filthiness of the younger man placed behind you.

Just as you lift your head to peek up in slight confusion at their constant rambling - and the feeling of someone's hands on you from behind who definitely was not Minho - Felix spits on your pussy.

It splatters on the pink of your skin, mixing with the slick that seems to gush from your aching, empty hole - and Felix watches as you clench around nothing in desperation. Yeah, he'd just won the bet.

"Shit," falls from Hyunjin's lips before he can help it, staring down the brunet who he wasn't aware until now was quite so.. dirty. His eyes dart from Felix over to where you lay, your reaction giving everything away; The way you bury your face down in the sheets as a strangled and shy moan rips from your throat; The way your cheeks burn a crimson hue none of them had seen all night. Even your ears tint pink in embarrassment that your dirty little secret had been revealed.

Jeongin, finally sitting forward and reaching to cup your cheeks in one of his hands, tips your head to face him so you can't quite hide away from them no matter how much you want to. "Look at me," he demands, voice soft but firm with instruction. "Open." And the others watch as you obey so sweetly for your boyfriend, lips falling apart and jaw completely slack so he can spit right onto your tongue - your mouth closing so you can swallow it before whimpering out in need of more.

And Felix - well, he's in Heaven. He'd took his shot and won the bet, belt everyone else out of the water no matter how hard they tried to figure you out - and he'd done it just by standing back and watching. His chest swells with pride and excitement at the knowledge that now, he got to receive his prize; That being you for at long as he wanted - or as long as he could last, he supposed. There was no way he was giving you back up to Jeongin before he was milked dry. And what kind of a friend would he be if he didn't pump you full before he returned you to your rightful owner?

"Get out." His voice is low in his chest, demanding everyone else leave so he could have his time with you. He needed it more than anything at the moment - you two shared the exact same kink and he was sure now he'd put that knowledge to good use, maybe even treat you so well with it that you wouldn't want to go crawling back to your boyfriend. But more importantly, you needed it, too, what with the way you were still clenching around nothing and just begging for him to spit on your pretty pussy again.

As the others file out the bedroom door, Jeongin chuckles low in his throat and leans forward to give you a quick kiss before he departs. His thumb slides over your cheek, gentle and soft - soothing before the heated, lust-filled ache that was bound to come in the following hours. His lips were like Heaven - like home - as they pressed against yours in a promise that once Felix was done with you - done with his reward for winning the bet and getting to use you like a toy for as long as he wanted - he would return and greet you with a warm embrace to give you as much care as you needed. Not that he doubted Felix would treat you well. Jeongin took a moment to peek down at where your wrists were still bound together with Jisung's belt, moving a hand down to hook a finger around the leather to give a gentle tug. He smiled against your lips, thumb tugging at the lower as he slowly pulled away to whisper,

"I'm going to leave this here. Good luck, baby."

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[cryinthevortex]

Sure, for a few ticks, it felt like a bad idea to have a manager who got possessed by a demon, but the benefits became quickly apparent.

He is no longer a strict manager and has now close to universal support among the staff for his approach. Before he was all for a regimental discipline and would always come and count your pens at the end of each day to ascertain none were stolen, now he leaves home with the whole stationary locker in his pocket. 

Employee satisfaction is now thoroughly important to him. He is a Swiss Army knife of support—he props each employee with a personalized approach.

Our newly diabolically enhanced manager encourages self-flagellating employees to work harder, sleep less, and feel less free. He can direct the high performers into suicide-by-thirties-level efficiency. Similarly, he supports even the laziest employees on our floors with words of wisdom. He encourages them to avoid too much work so that their self-sabotage has a better opportunity to take hold within them.

He has been very capable of reorganizing daily chores into something more pleasant. He removed the worst job from the company: he took down customer support. It has been something that the company has gotten by great without. It has also provided some additional entertainment because he loves listening to people’s reactions when the support phone line gives customers a standard reply that support opens in an hour- every hour of the day, seven days a week. He eavesdrops on the line and plays us the best reactions. 

We find it highly entertaining, and the devil has claimed many of our customers when they use naughty words and curse fellow humans. Some resorted to sending our company glitter bombs. Everyone knows the hell has a special place for that kind of customer. It’s that same place where customer service employees who ask, “Have you turned the machine on?” go. Our new manager was delighted by the increase in profitability and to us it pays dividends in job satisfaction.

One of the reasons for his popularity is, that he never makes us do overtime. This has been one of our collectively most favored changes.

He now pays us without extra work because it increases the bosses’ collection of vices. They now sit in the boardroom for longer wondering where the money invested each month goes. Their golf memberships have been canceled, leading them to have less healthy outdoors, filling their minds with more stress- just what the devil doctor ordered. It is all thanks to our newly improved manager.

The breakroom has never been such a happy place for us: he never lets the coffee go cold in the pot because when the guy fills his cup, the pot heats up with hellfire efficiency. 

Unlike before, when he was of the little less infernal constitution– he now never saves in coffee fund expenses because he knows we pay the price in girth of our waistlines and over-indulgence is a sin. 

Our manager's new countenance is a hit with the company accountants- they are his biggest fans because he is the only one who treats them right. 

He is always incredibly polite to those guys because everyone knows, accountants are doomed to live in the darkest room, with the messiest desk, and have the longest to-do list and they slaver away when everyone else has holidays.

The poor sods of that department are working overtime sorting out numbers that are perpetually not adding up. On top of it all they drown in piles and piles of receipts and a few are always missing when you need them. 

A good old trick to lead them closer to their damnation is to claim a cup of coffee back from the company when they are at their busiest- and our demon manager doesn’t have to do a thing- all employees and bosses drive them down that path without any help. Those guys are already in hell and they don’t even realize it. 

Overall it's been over a month since our manager was possessed by a demon. Yet, instead of fetching the nearest priest or throwing a bucket of holy water at them, myself and my coworkers have just rolled with it, as the demon is WAY more bearable to work under.”

It's been over a month since your manager was possessed by a demon. Yet, instead of fetching the nearest priest or throwing a bucket of holy water at them, you and your coworkers have just rolled with it, as the demon is WAY more bearable to work under.

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[ozzgin]

It's Christmas Eve, and you wake up to a baby outside of your home. Your yakuza friends quickly come to your rescue, and thus begins your journey of finding the baby's parents. Daitou ponders his own future family with you. content: female reader, violence, mentions of pregnancy, based on Tokyo Godfathers

[Yandere Yakuza Masterlist] | [More Yandere Works]

You stare at the little basket in disbelief.

On the front steps of your apartment complex, a lone baby is crying and shuffling in the bundle of stale sheets. The event would've been baffling enough by itself; even more incredulous is that someone has decided to drop an infant in the middle of a yakuza quarter, in winter, during a gang war. You glance at the bullet holes left in the entrance wall with pursed lips.

You do the only reasonable thing that comes to mind: call Daitou.

As you settle the baby in your much warmer living room, you hear the door rattle. Daitou barges in, face pale as a sheet. Behind him, Kazuya struggles to catch his breath.

“Why- Why didn’t you tell me,” he shouts, collapsing to his knees.

“What? I literally just did,” you argue, eyeing him in confusion.

Kazuya pats his friend’s shoulder, giving you an awkward smile.

“Just my two cents, (Y/N) love, but perhaps telling him ‘I have a baby’ wasn’t the smartest idea. I didn’t have time to explain the logical fallacies to him.”

Indeed, it was a speedy affair. They were hanging out at the headquarter across the street when Daitou answered your panicked call. He nodded, hung up, then sprang out of his seat, bemoaning that he’s the biggest dumbass on this Earth. How could he have missed the fact he’d gotten you pregnant? When did it happen? Was it a surprise birth? There was no time to consider the logistics – he ran, and ran, indifferent to Kazuya’s desperate pleads to listen.

“Oh my God,” you whine, ruffling his hair. “I found the baby, you idiot. Outside my apartment. It was there, in a basket. I hear it crying this morning and went downstairs to see what’s happening.”

The dark-haired man swings his head back up, having finally connected the dots. The movement is so abrupt, his prosthetic eye plops out and rolls away inconspicuously. You catch it before it reaches the edge of the sofa.

“So, what now?” the blonde man is the first one to break the silence. “Does it have a return address?”

“Nothing,” you confess. “We should figure something out; I don’t have any food or diapers.”

“We could keep it,” Daitou mutters mainly to himself. Maybe it was fate, y’know? Or something like that.

“Yeah? Are you going to breastfeed it, momma?” Kazuya groans, flicking his friend. “A stray cat caring for another stray.”

He’s about to place a cigarette in his mouth, but you slap it away and angrily gesture towards the baby. Ah, yes. Of course. He stuffs it back into his pocket, and continues:

“I say we take the kiddo over to our brothel. Plenty of girls that’ll have a better idea.”

You nod thoughtfully. Kazuya’s mom is one of those girls. How many children came out of this business, you wonder? You wrap the infant back into its sheets, and carefully lift the basket.

The street is suspiciously empty as you make your way to the soapland. Well, it’s Christmas Eve, after all. You recall last year’s Family event, when you met Boss for the first time. Back then you were pouring sake for all the underground elite, now you’re carrying an abandoned baby around. It seems that peaceful holidays aren’t something you can enjoy with the yakuza.

In an immaculately ironic timing to your complaint, a loud, thundering sound flashes past your ears. Before you can turn around, you feel Daitou’s brawny arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you in the air. You let out a quick, involuntary shriek.

“Keep your head down,” he barks, suddenly grim and serious.

Kazuya mutters a curse under his breath, swiftly turning on his heels and shooting at targets out of your sight. You’ve been caught in one of the armed conflicts.

What a day, you think, hands gripped tightly around the basket. The baby is crying, the bullets are pouring. Daitou is holding you with one arm, the other is occasionally returning the shots.

“You get used to it,” you whisper to the infant. “I’m telling you now, there’s no better company than these two.”

It’s probably better to not be involved in the first place, of course, but if you do find yourself caught in gangster business...Kazuya and Daitou are your guarantee to survival.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, your feet touch the ground once more. The matron of the brothel hurries over, fanning herself and tugging at the collar of her kimono.

“My, what a mess. I hope you managed to put a few holes in those rascals,” she says in a husky voice. One can immediately guess she’s a heavy smoker.

She notices your unusual package.

“What’s that?”

“Haven’t you heard? (Y/N) and Daitou are parents,” Kazuya announces with gravity.

The rest of the women gather around, gasping and cheering. You elbow the blonde man, furrowing your brows in annoyance.

“Nonsense. This baby was dropped this morning in front of my building. We thought we’d-”

“Ah!”

One of the women steps forward, inspecting the basket with trembling hands. She narrates the story to you: her friend – the mother – was involved with one of the rival Family members. She’d planned on running away with her partner, you see, but escaping the biggest yakuza branch with a baby in the backseat wasn’t an easy task. She begged to drop the newborn in her friend’s care before her departure. They’d decided on a locker by the train station to perform the unusual exchange.

“I waited for hours, but she never arrived,” the woman concludes. “My God, I thought the poor kid froze to death in one of the postal boxes. She must’ve gone for the nearest convenient hideout!”

You hand her the bundle, and she scurries towards the neighbouring room to do a proper health check. Daitou follows her movements in silence.

“Don’t tell me you wanted to keep it,” you joke.

Kazuya jumps in with a smirk:

“Are you kidding me? He probably planned a whole family trip on the way here.”

The yakuza coughs dryly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“D-don’t be ridiculous, man. If we’re done here, I’ll be taking miss (Y/N) home.”

The idea of starting a family with you has crossed his mind, certainly. On the other hand, Daitou isn’t in a rush by any means. He’s rather enjoying the current arrangement, and he loves having you as the most important thing in his life.

“Oh, will you be staying over?” you turn towards your boyfriend. “I haven’t finished wrapping your presents.”

He twirls the glass eye nervously. If you ask him, he’s already gotten the deal of a lifetime. You.

[deesseshesca]

PAC : Letter from your pregnant self (HIS POV) 18+

I got beef with men but ... what else is new ?

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PILE 1

MY BEEF...any way thank you so much for coming through. Girl you better like it, he got me working fucking overtime. Actually all of them did ...

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PILE 2 

Both of y’all are only child that were raised to be anxious over achiever. Parents are never there. I keep hearing : ‘’Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends. Super rich with nothing but fake friends…’’

Letter suppose to be for you but instead he wrote it for your baby.

Dear Lucetta (Various ethereal ‘’L’’ name came through. Other name that came through : Lysandra, Lysianne and Lucretia) 

Daddy messed up (This man is bawling. I mean breakdown and everything. He tries to be strong but for the sec that he admits that, tears are overflowing. If he was actually writing the letter they would be teardrop on the letter). Daddy is nothing but an asshole. I should not write this right … Your mama is going to get mad when she realizes how I butcher your vocabulary (yellow laugh ( french : rire jaune) … idk how to explain it in english). Fuck … You deserve a fucking good letter. That’s the least I can fucking do … yeah that’s the least I can do. Mama decorate your room like the royalty you are meant to be. The tapestry tailored in Spain in an accent of gold and soft pink are all over the walls. Made sure to ask the maid to polish the wooden floor until she can see herself in it. She actually sent me in here to check the oxygen cleanliness of your room. First wtf is air cleanliness. Second when the fuck did they created a damm machine for that shit. Lastly, you are not even there … Sorry baby … I love you more than anything but your mama is gone mad with the way she’s preparing for you. I never understood when  my poor friends complain about rich people's spending habits.  Now I am standing in the room section reserved for your room oxygen. I can help but run a hand in my hair and agree. (Another yellow laugh (rire jaune) before falling down on his knees and crying. Give him a couple minute y’all he needs to catch his breath … ) You're going to cost me so much baby. I never care for my trust fund, finances or even money but I am asking the family accountant to come to me first thing in the morning for the 4th this month. I hope I have enough money ( and for some of y’all … gold … liquid gold …iykyk). I know Mr. (His dad's name) has enough money in the bank but maybe is not enough. Maybe you need more than the couple millions we have. Maybe you need more than the properties we own. Maybe you need fucking more than an oxygen regulator machine. Maybe you need a whole lung doctor. Yes… you  need a nutritionist, a child psychologist … Does the baby have a tutor ? Fuck you need it. Baby just said and daddy will get it. You understand everything you want daddy get. You want a hug, a kiss, for me to count all the stars in the sky to describe how much he loves … done. You need me to buy the moon for you … done. You need me to resurrect  Leonardo Devinci so he can paint you in all your glory … done. There’s nothing I would not give to you but the thing that makes my heart ache is the way I crave intimacy with you. Can’t wait to hold you in my hands. Can’t wait to touch your littles toes. Can’t wait to see your lips pout like your mama when she is done with my mess. Can’t wait to see you grow. I promise princess I will never make second ever again. I will go to every parent meeting at school, bringing you to all your ballet, opera, harp, fencing, horse ridding whatever fucking classes your mom has for you; I will never miss your school competition and I will listen to all your house show you will produce to show yourself off. I don’t care if I am in a meeting, I will always have time for you. I will always have time to remind you how much I love you, how pretty you are, how much you matter and how much of a blessing you are just because you are. Yes… just because is you,  baby. Forgive daddy please. I know I am not in a position to ask you for anything especially after giving up on you for so long but if you don’t make it out of the NICU … mommy may never make it out. We both made her suffer enough. 

Please baby (damm he's whimpering in pain, choking on tears) stay with us. 

YOUR DADDY. 

Don’t worry you are not dead or close to it ( in the physical form at least …), you are being monitored at the hospital. I am getting traumatic labor (I should do a PAC about it) not because of pain but because of blood. You may have not lost your water but blood. I see you laughing at some joke the father of your baby did. Not a single care in the world. Girl your hair is perfect, if you have a Dyson and are working to perfect your blowout … just so you know you are the blowout queen in a couple years. Skin glowing, you look so pretty pregnant. That baby was really the blessing that changed your life forever. You are wearing a 2 piece white set … boom blood. You touch and look at your man. I keep hearing : ‘’ nononono … that can’t be it. (HIS NAME !) It can’t be … my baby. 

This whole letter  has nothing to do with the cards so let’s dive … shall we ? (Intuition took over …)

First you guys were both extremely hardworking workers. Never had time ( and also if I may … never learn ) to create deep bonds. I see both people living in their own penthouse. Yours has more of a Victorian look and his is more modern. You may have a white cat. 

You met at the work gala. I see 2 people look at each and accept y’all fate. 

You start fucking. The deal was perfect. He needed a woman that was not going to get attached to his riches. You needed a man that’s not trying to fix your cold heart. 

I see y’all literally planning to have sex like it’s a meeting … I think y’all use it to blow some steam annoyed by your empty life, useless parents and annoying coworkers. 

At first just fucking, no aftercare, clothe back on and on the go. Then he cracks a joke and you giggle which makes you stay 5 minutes longer. Then he charms you while cooking dinner for you before you leave. Then you spend more and more time together… Now he grabs you a snack and y’all always watch a kid show. He complains about how dumb the character is but you enjoy the deep dive he’s doing without even realizing it. 

You are not wrong, there's a lot of things he doesn't realize. He doesn't realize how much he craves connection. He doesn't realize how much he craves intimacy with you. When asked why ? Is it because you allow him to be ( do you realize the synchrony with the letter … anyway sometime my psychic surprise me 2 girl) 

You took the pregnancy test together and he joke on the fact it was getting terminated and not to stress so much but a light a hope awaken in your  heart for the first in soooo fucking long but you brush it off and went on the same page as him. Not because of him but because ‘’ you the fuck has time for a kid anyway’’ (your word not mine). 

Then you heard the baby's heartbeat and you cut all contact with him. Someday at the beginning of your second trimester you text him paragraphs upon paragraph on how you kept the baby, how it was never to hurt him, but for the first time in your life you felt hope and it felt like you needed to hold on to it. That you don’t know how but you are going to make it. 

He will villainize you and block you. One of your close friend is going to send them drunk voice memo in the middle of the third semester announcing him is a girl between cursing the fuck out. WAKE UP CALL FOR MISTER. 

He comes back the same day you threw your private luxurious baby shower. 

Some of y’all are Italian 

He has a no relationship with his parents and refuses 2. Calling them by their first name while you still seek love from them. 

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PILE 3

Dear Red (y’all call each other by colors so anything can fit, just took that one because it came through first) , 

You are resplendent. I know you think I am exaggerating. Or maybe you think I am only talking this sweet because everything is new ( I just heard : ‘’ The talk is cheap …’’ Lol this one is sassy) but baby I can put my hand the fire that I would still go that hard for you in 30 years when you boobs going to sag, your face will wrinkles from all the time I am going to make you laugh and you have grey hair just like mine ( You : YAH! Stop that in 30 years we are not going to be this old … you dumb fuck. I swear too God this fucking skincare better work. You better stop being goofy .. I want to be a MILF. You know, that is one of my life goals … GIRL YOU BETTER TELL HIM; Me: (choking on my laugh) Now… Why am I getting yelled at ?). Can’t never forget when I saw your sexy ass that day at the beach. I did not think … yeah I can’t wait to fuck it and make her yell my name (ok can’t lie it was my very next thought) nahhh, baby I was hook by the way the sun was making your skin glow. The tattoo on your body is a telling story before my eyes but you know I never wear my damm glasses so I could not read it. Anyway the way your hair flows gracefully with the wind, the way your eyes light up basking in the sun. I knew I had to get a lil mama number. When I first hear your voice … it made me breathless (should have asked for your asthma pump but I did not know you like that at that time but that shows you how much I was starstruck … Almost I had my first asthma attack- You: BABY stop telling my damm business to this lady). Your words, your tone, the way you move with so much elegance … I just knew I hit the jackpot. I would be damm to let you go. I am so proud of having you as mine. I love spending time with you, I love spending money on you, I love kissing you, I love leaving hickeys on you, I love holding your hands, I love texting you, I love making stupid edits of us (Me : the 2014 couple edit … girl … I can’t … you boy is making me cry of laughter). I know everything happens so quickly but you know how you explain me that life is like a book with crystals and your cards with little drawing on it, ( Me : Byeeee I can't, he is trying to explain crystals and tarot cards; Him: Honestly I don’t know about all that … I love hearing her talk about it. I love hearing her talk when she’s excited. I love her voice. The perfect candidate for yap session) anyway my inner child feels so safe and alive with you. I know you feel the same baby girl. Everything is working so effortlessly that must mean we are manifesting something good ( Me : LOL ! He’s talking about the law of attraction). My mom did not even get mad when I announced to her that I got you pregnant (You : Duh she loves me stoopid). You parents loved the fact that we found each other and your dad is as eager as me to formalize our union. Honestly I would marry you anywhere at any time. I told  you from the beginning that you will be my wife and I meant it but I know you want something bigger and so  it’s going to have to wait. That doesn't mean I can’t surprise you with an engagement ring. Standing here with a small group of men allowed to the baby shower, I can’t help but look at you. Your skin tight black dress exposing your full breast and the slide on it showing off your thick thighs. The smile on your face while you act ratchet with your friends ( Him: Damm babe I did not know you could still throw it in a circle 8 months pregnant … you better not say you are tired tonight. I got a plan for both of us) letting yourself go not a single care in the world. This is how I want you to be forever. Not a single care in the world, always full of joy and love and helping you achieve all your goals. Baby I know, it was quick but I swear it is only the beginning of the most beautiful love story. I am going to work hard until my last breath to keep the spark going. 

YOUR ONE AND ONLY MAN 

HIM 

Again wtf is wrong with those men. At first they did not want to work with me … now they are good ? To the point of making me over work …smh.

Yes, you guess it … it was an intuitive letter now let’s get into the card. 

First I am getting PLUS SIZE ! Yes, very thick and curvy women.  Now I understand why I wanted to write a bigger butt earlier … your man loves the curves baby. That’s does not mean is a fucking fetiche. Like if it is affecting health is going to ask you to fix it. News flash loser fat people can have an active life and still be fat. He never forces you to achieve any kind of weird kink. 

Y’all may be giving yourself too easily to men. I am getting that since they only see you for your body. You prefer existing than being invisible (like when you were child, some of y'all have been big since childhood. You were not really bullied but very ignored. People were ashamed to associate with you). Right now I see you are at the beginning of your elf love journey. You are making healthy food choices, spending time mastering a hobby : crystal, tarot, knitting or some other heels dancing. YOU GO GIRL ! Regarding men you still give yourself easily, some even tell you they don’t like you. They just fuck you because you are easy. You accept it and let them take you to pound town anyway. 

This man is going to help you tremendously in your self love journey … you have no fucking idea. You are going to glow more, stop eating your feelings, love yourself, have boundaries with your environment ( idk when the world decides that we have to give less respect to rounder people but anyways …), you will dress more provocatively and wear way more colors. Speak your mind more and be confident in yourself. 

Baby say goodbye to boring sex and say hello to sex toys. Rejoice, babe rejoice you deserve it. Let me tell you something he is pleasure dom … Girl he's going to make you orgasm like it is a damm sport. You better hold on because the night is going to be long. Pussy swollen from overstimulation, ass hurting from spanking and hickeys everywhere. Not him having the audacity to ask you to ride him after all that … anyways chile let me go. 

He gets so hard whenever you talk about spirituality. If you are witch prank by performing some sex magick on him, this man would be sooo proud to be your little helper while you are doing some spell.

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

PILE 4 

Judgement (reverse), King pentacles, 4 wands (reverse), page of cups (reverse) 

I put the card because I want to show that I actually try to do the reading at first but the energy aint it. Somebody had an awful pregnancy especially because of an awful baby daddy. Like he dragged you to the filth, made you cry and cheated on you. Even gave you an STD for some of y’all. Since than he calm the fuck down. He tries to come through like a nicer person  but he made sure to make me understand he doesn't love you so I don't want him. I ain't wasting my time for something he can text. Then his younger self came through … boy bye with your filthy energy. 

So I kept trying because I had to feed you guys … Then your future husband came through but you were still not pregnant so … it was kind of useless for me … But then I understood that y’all are actively trying and that's good enough for me. 

No cards … straight intuition ( I don’t  want this filthy energy to come through again) 

Dear Малышка, Солнышко, Киса (ain't going to lie … I google the most popular and line it up. He ain't going to call you all that. Also I am really getting eastern Europe and I know they all have their own language but most of them somehow got colonized by Russia in some way shape or form. But if he’s from Poland then he will use his language. He’s from Lithuania, he will use his language … You catch the drift) 

(before we get into anything … thick, thick accent), fuck I want you. I need you. Like all the time. You ain’t make it easy for me Малышка. One day you welcome me home with a long white robe, hair in a perfect intricate bun and makeup a bit oily. That's how I know our kid did not let you rest. You only had  time to take away your clothes before you had to jump in mommy mode. Other times you tease me by sending me pictures of the lingerie and perfume you are wearing. Swear I hate the fact that I start work so early and finish so late. Oh let me not forget when you took a picture with my computer of you in your favorite brown set. The number of times you give me a blue ball should be illegal. Don’t even get me started when we were invited to the gala, you look so breathtaking … anyways you already know all that. Being a man's desire never was a foreign concept but being in love was one I had to teach you. Every day I rejoice with the idea of spending a whole lifetime loving you and our little bundle of energy. She/He never stops … just like her/his mommy. It took me a while to win over her/his heart. She/He is so protective of your heart. Almost as if he/she everyone in your heart aches when carrying him/her. That’s ok now we are 2 trying to protect you, can’t wait to be 3 humans to love on you. Until then here is the money for the new makeup you wanted to try. 

Love you Малышка. 

LOL ! I swear your future man has some sense of humor. I said the other one he could text you is lame nice word this one came through as a text. 

Also some of you may think he is super old … nah he is around your age. Babe get out the damn book there’s handsome Slavic men your age range in the real world. 

Anyways this man has tattoos and loves metal and goth music. He has moneyyy. I just don’t know the capacity but enough to put you in a luxurious condo and fund your influencer career. 

Lol … I see some of y’all cringing. I don’t think you will do couple content, actually you keep your life extremely private … The only thing people know is the diamond on your finger. I am getting more skincare and makeup content creators. You have a boudoir (beauty room/content room) that’s all we see. When I channeled him, I saw you receiving his message while getting ready to film some content. At that time in your life you are still juggling a 9to5. I mean girl, you are doing it all ! Mommy, corporate baddie, content creator and trophy wife. 

He has a rather dark aesthetic unlike you. You have a quite cute, pink aesthetic but love hardcore metal and goth. 

He came through while I played my NIRVANA playlist.

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

[spxllcxstxr]

Jayce and Viktor Dating Someone with ADHD • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hiiii how are you? I love your stories so I was wondering if you could write more jayvik x reader but who has adhd? TYSMM -- anon and Your Jayvik + reader headcanons have me are giddy and are healing my soul. Is it possible to ask for a some headcanons with a reader who has ADHD and also forgets to eat because of it?? I hope your day is kind to you! -- anon

Warnings: gn!reader, reader has ADHD, mentions of food and eating/not eating, these are lowkey kinda short im so sorry lol

A.N: Disclaimer: I don't have ADHD but I have many friends that do and while ADHD presents itself differently for people, I tried to keep this a bit generalized, I hope that's ok!! If anything needs changing or needs to be deleted for being inaccurate or anything, just let me know! Hope you guys enjoy!!

•

Jayce and Viktor are both very understanding people, so when you told them you had ADHD they didn’t have a problem with it. They are, however, problem solvers (they are inventors with the dream of making Piltover and Zaun better for the people), meaning they are very curious about your habits and how they can help. They don’t want to “cure” you, because there’s nothing to cure, but they want to understand how to reassure you and how to make living with ADHD easier on a day-to-day basis

If you’re someone who fidgets with things a lot, Jayce will happily pick up the task of making something that satisfies your need to occupy your hands and your thoughts. He loves being in the forge and he’ll gladly let you sit in there with him and listen to you describe what you would want. He’ll sit next to you, sketching out the design while you ramble about what textures are better than others or how weighty it should feel in your hand. Jayce honestly loves this little side project; not only does it let him work on something other than his research, but it also puts a smile on your face

If you like rambling for hours about your latest hyperfixation, Viktor is the best for that. He has a naturally curious mind and would love to learn something new. He especially likes it when your head is resting on his chest in the middle of the night. Viktor likes watching you move your hands as you talk excitably about the plant life in Ionia or the history of the Yordles. He doesn’t just listen—he’ll ask you questions or give you reading material he thinks you may like as well

Going to Council parties or even just walking through Piltover can really overwhelm you sometimes, either with all the noise or the texture of your clothing feeling off, so your partners are very attentive to your wellbeing. The three of you set up a codeword for anyone to use when someone needs or wants to leave. They try to make it something funny every time to hopefully ease the panic a little bit. Usually Jayce and Viktor are glued to either side of you hip, but in the off chance they have to roam around the room, the two of them will try to keep an eye on you. They will always reassure you that it's ok that they are leaving these sorts of events early (Viktor barely wants to go in the first place), and when you get home the three of you will do something to calm everyone down and get into comfortable clothes

Having ADHD, you tend to get distracted/forget to do certain things. This usually includes eating. Your partners never want to seem overbearing or like they're smothering you, so they will try to subtly remind you to eat/do certain things. Jayce likes writing you little notes and putting them in the apartment. Usually they have little hearts in the corners with some encouraging remark after "remember to eat!" Viktor will usually try to eat with you, so you won't feel alone while eating. He'll be making something and he'll set the table for either two or three and that just reminds you to actually sit down and eat what Viktor makes

Your partners are very patient and are always open to new ideas. if you want them to do something different or if something works really well, they would love to hear it. They absolutely will not be mad at all, they love you so much and all they want to do is help make things easier for you

•

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Consider It Done

Prompt Day 28: Pining | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Brief Mention of Sex Acts, Steve Wanting His Nuggets, Bullshit | Tags: Future Fic, 1990s, Roommates, Friends With Benefits, Mutual Pining, Background Lumax, Platonic Stobin

"Dingus, are you listening?" 

Steve jerks his head towards Robin. He wasn't listening, he's not even sure what they were talking about. 

"Sorry, what?" Steve asks, and she's just looking at him, all-knowingly. So, her usual face.

"I said, take a picture it'll last longer," she says in his direction, and Steve jerks his head back to where he was looking. 

Eddie, holding the baby, Max and Lucas happy to have the break that Eddie's so good at providing. He was great at holding her when she was brand new, and oh so little, but now? At nearly a year, Eddie's really hitting his stride. Entertaining her, making her giggle with delight, so happy to be in his lap.

It's affected Steve more than he could have imagined. Steve loves that his nuggets are having nuggets. It doesn't seem possible, but they've grown up so much. They all have. 

And Eddie looks good, looks right, with that baby in his arms. It has just unleashed an unholy level of longing in Steve that he didn't know was even possible. 

Thing is, Steve knows that whatever they are isn't gonna be that, and he's accepted it. He really has. It's been years. They're fuck buddies. Roommates. Friends. Definitely not boyfriends, spouses or ever going to be parents together. That's not in the cards. Eddie was upfront when they fell into this thing that he wasn't ever gonna be any of those things.

Down for a good time, but not a long time.

And Steve understood. At least he thought he did, but now he's looking at Eddie holding a baby, the Eddie that he loves and shouldn't, and his heart yearns for more. 

It's been years, half-assedly together, and Steve could only guard his heart for so long.

"You're pining pretty loud," Robin hisses, and Steve tears his eyes away, focusing on her instead.

In the car on the ride home, Steve's quiet. Eddie's talking, jabbering away, and Steve loves him. Loves him more than he's ever loved anyone that isn't Robin, and as usual, he has no outlet for it. Nobody wants his love. He's a good fuck, a good friend, a good babysitter. But he's not good forever material. 

"You're awfully quiet," Eddie finally says, in between monologues.

"The baby's even cuter than the last time we saw her," Steve says. 

"Totally," Eddie agrees, "she's getting so fun."

"I want her. Well, not her. That's weird. One. I want one."

"Yeah, so you've said, Harrington. You wanted six last I knew," Eddie teases.

Six is never happening. Six was the dream of an overly optimistic nineteen-year-old. At twenty-nine, he just wants one. He wants to love others, to be loved back, wholly. Openly, freely, without feeling like he's too much.

"One would be good," Steve says.

"Well, I'm sure there's some woman out there itching to have a baby with you. You do have the good hair."

Steve laughs, because he's supposed to, but he doesn't want a baby with some random woman he doesn't know. He wants a baby with Eddie. He wants a life with Eddie, and Eddie isn't on board with that.

And Steve hates it. Hates that they are so far from the same page it isn't even funny. 

"I want a baby with you," Steve says, and then squeezes the steering wheel. Fuck. 

Eddie laughs, "Well, we don't exactly have the parts for that. But we can still practice until you find somebody better equipped."

Steve's defeated, done. "There is nobody better. I want you. You don't want me, but I want you. And yeah, it's bullshit, I know."

"Steve…" Eddie trails off.

"Just forget it."

Eddie's quiet for the rest of the ride, and Steve wonders if he's trying to decide which of them will have to move out of the apartment, just like Steve is doing. He could stay with Robin for a while, her girlfriend would welcome him on a short-term basis, he's sure.

Steve's facedown on his bed, when the door swings open. 

"I can't forget it," Eddie announces loudly. 

"Can't forget what?" Steve asks, voice muffled by his pillow. 

"That you want me," Eddie says, and if Steve wasn't already facedown on the bed, he'd want to hide from the shame of it all.

"Sorry," Steve mumbles, but he's only sorry that he's made it weird. 

"Don't be sorry, be honest," Eddie says, and Steve doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. Steve's been honest, that's why they're in the uncomfortable situation in the first place.

He feels Eddie's knee hit the bed, and it shakes as Eddie crawls across the mattress, then he's on Steve's back. Chest to his back, his arms snaking all along Steve's exposed skin, to cover Steve's arms all the way to his hands.

Eddie's chin is slotted against his neck, touching him in all the places he can reach, and Steve hates – and loves – how much this grounds him. 

"You're in love with me?" Eddie asks. "You don't just love me as your eccentric roommate that enthusiastically sucks your cock?"

Steve laughs, the weight of Eddie pinning him to the bed.

"Well, I love that, too."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Eddie asks.

"You told me what this wasn't," Steve says.

Eddie lets out an indigent sound, "That was a dirty lie to protect myself, Harrington! You're supposed to know me better than that!"

He squeezes the tops of Steve's hands with his own, "I've loved you the whole time, you dickhead."

Steve wants to believe it, wants to throw everything he has into it.

He will. There's no other option.

"Well, I've loved you the whole time, too, you dickhead," Steve mimics.

Eddie laughs in his ear, pressing his lips to the side of Steve's face, "We can have a baby. We can get married. Anything you want, trust me, I want it more."

And Steve smiles into the pillow, "Okay. Let's do that."

"Consider it done, Harrington."

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

Notes: Special thanks to @griefabyss69 for throwing out this pining plot idea (Steve pining for a family after seeing Eddie with Lumax's baby) after I was complaining yesterday that my first fic for this prompt outgrew the 1000 word limit, and now I needed to start over last minute. That doesn't sound like me at all, does it? 🤣 (It'll work out okay, since it will also works for one of my bingo prompts, so I'll continue it for that!)

[altxrrmelancholy]

Exactly The Same

Tags: bf!joong, idol!joong, some teasing, woo and reader are just mischievous, a blowjob maybe, lots of moaning.

...in which you stumble upon a smut audio of joong on Tumblr that an Atiny made that sounds exactly like him.

Note: I cannot for the life of me remember the account, but I once listened to an audio on here that sounded like how Hj would sound. It had me reeling omg. If it's a well known audio I would like to hear it again please if anyone knows what I'm talking about. 😭

Anyways, here you go. Don't forget to reblog!

You didn't even know where Wooyoung came from, and you didn't care at that point. All you could think about was the pure heaven you were both listening to.

Yours and his mouth were gaping at the sounds you both were listening to. At one point, he even pushed you further into the couch so that he could get closer to you and hear better, sharing a singular earphone with him. You increased the volume when you realized you were about to hear him talk.

"A-ah mmmh, babygirl is doing sooo good for daddy mmmmh~"

You clenched your thighs and screamed internally as Wooyoung gapes even further.

"Fuuuuck. That sounds exactly like hyung."

"I know right?!"

The audio wasn't even that long. As soon as it finished, you scoured through the account to see if they had posted more.

It was the only fucking audio.

"Play it again." You did.

You couldn't even question or judge Wooyoung's sentence as the effect the audio had on you yourself was dizzying. And you were the actual girlfriend.

"How do they do it? I mean, do they act it out or..."

You shrugged. "I think these are actual porn audios. They just search for the ones that sound closer to your voices or something, I dunno."

"Is there one of mine? What are you waiting for? Type my name in there!"

You glared at him as he tried to reach for your phone. "Are you crazy?! I don't want to hear you moan!"

"But we just heard Hyung moan! How is that different?"

"Because I'm the girlfriend?!"

"But you just said it's porn audios! Come on, Y/n!" He was already starting to whine and fuss around on the couch. You weren't even supposed to show any of the Ateez members anything sexual about them, especially if it involved their fans' imagination. You were an Atiny yourself so of course you had to remain loyal to the fandom, even though you were dating a member.

Not that any of the fans knew. The loyalties stopped there. You were on your knees for their leader.

You remembered the time when San was live one day and he accidentally stumbled upon fanfiction, to your horror. They already knew that you followed some of their fan sites on social media. Your boyfriend even teased you of the possibility of you reading fanfics. The last thing you wanted was your boyfriend finding out you indulged in written erotica about him online. It's not something that you deliberately hide from him. You would actually share with him one day. Not anytime soon though. Cause then he would find out that you used to read smut about other members: Seonghwa, Yunho, Jongho... even Wooyoung.

Ugh. Why, oh, why was I lucky enough to date their leader? Please take me away from this endless mental torture!

"Y/n pleeaaase? I promise I won't tell anyone else."

"Woo, you're being-"

"Tell anyone what?"

You hadn't even realized that someone had walked through the door. There your boyfriend stood, staring at both of you awaiting an answer. His anxieties about knowing every single thing about what his members get themselves involved in present.

"Well?"

You thought quickly. "It's uuuh, artwork. Like, suspicious artwork."

He narrowed your eyes at you. "Okay...?"

He wasn't even wearing anything revealing but you wanted to pounce on him immediately. In fact, he was completely covered from head to toe in black as it was cold outside. This was one of those days where he came home early from work and you just knew he was tired. You smirked.

You stood up slowly, pulling your (his) ridden-up shorts down as you passed your phone to Wooyoung. He stared as you approached your boyfriend who kept his eyes on you, unmoving.

"You must be very exhausted, right?"

He sighed. "I can't even begin to speak on it."

You smiled at him. "Okay! Let's go!"

Before you could leave the living room, your boyfriend's hand in yours, you discreetly turned to Wooyoung and winked at him. He seemed to get the message, widening his eyes and gaping again, as he watched you enter the bedroom.

"That snake." He whispered.

With the door to his room shut, you gently sat him down on his bed and got to your knees. You quickly worked on his sweatpants.

"What's gotten into you?" He helped you in removing the barriers and brushed his hand through your hair gently as he prepared for what's coming. You watched his dick grow hard in your touch. You couldn't wait so you took him into your mouth, hearing him wince a bit. You bobbed your head a couple of times and then he started to moan.

"Mmmh fuck. I needed this."

You internally squealed. You could just fly.

On the other side, Wooyoung had already heard the first series of moans. He cursed softly as he tripped on his way to his room, before you both remembered he was still in the house. He felt your phone vibrate in his hands and stopped in the corridor to look at it.

It was a message.

Sexiest leader 🤎: He said you should be out of the house by now, Woo.😘

Oh fuuuuck me.

[spam-monster]

Why I Think Stone Should Be Shadow's Human Buddy:

- Both processing their grief.

- Shadow gets someone who's used to dealing with overdramatic rage and not talking about feelings.

- Shadow wakes up in a panic after a nightmare and trashes his room? Stone replaces everything without complaint and adds a force field around his stuff so he doesn't break anything else at night. Shadow mentions he misses having a record player? Stone buys him a new one and throws in every album released 50 years ago just in case.

- Stone gets someone who genuinely appreciates his help and who would actually do nice things for him in return.

- Shadow insists on helping Stone cook. Shadow helps clean up his own messes. Shadow tries to listen to his advice.

- Riding motorcycles out in the wilds and then setting up a tent and stargazing together.

- Also they're just both kinda hecked-up little guys.

- Like both probably mad at GUN still but settle for clandestinely thwarting their plans undercover.

- Also Stone kinda wants to take over the world in Robotnik's name but also wants to protect the world he sacrificed himself to save but also is too nice to use Shadow as a tool.

- Somehow they end up settling on "take over the coffee industry by offering better job benefits and use sustainable business practices to help protect the environment"

- Shadow helps transport the beans to reduce fuel costs. He likes having a job that's not just "run around to generate energy and let scientists poke at you"

- GUN is appalled when they find out the ultimate lifeform is working at a coffee company. "You have the power to level or fuel entire cities and you're wasting it on coffee?!"

- "I like coffee." Shadow glares dramatically.

- Team Shadow fits into dynamic as well - Stone having access to Eggman tech could be how they find Omega, and he and Rogue would be very catty at each other.

- Stone asks Tom and Maddie for advice on living with an alien hedgehog. They start giving him parenting advice.

- "I'm not a parent" he says

- but then he sees Shadow in danger and the switch clicks to "crap in trying to cope with the loss of the man I loved I accidentally adopted an edgy teenager"

- Just let him join the family dynamic as the weird uncle who watches soap operas with Knuckles and Maddie and helps Tails test inventions and threatens GUN with an entire arsenal of Egg tech if they try to go after the silly little alien critters ever again.

[whimsicalpolitical]

a request if I may… matty getting mad talking to someone on the phone and girlie is just watching him like😵‍💫😵‍💫 and he takes his frustration out on her😁

content warning: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, dirty talk, spanking,

this has been going on for a while now: matty walking back and forth through the room and getting more frustrated by the phone call.

“fucking christ,” matty says gritting his teeth, “what’s your fucking damage?”

you’re sitting at the edge of the bed, done with your nightly routine and only waiting for your pacing boyfriend now.

sleep is the last thing on your mind though.

twenty minutes torture. matty’s little rage act makes your thighs ache because you’ve been clenching them together the second he started to cuss and swear.

“that’s not what i’ve been saying bro, fucking listen.”

your eyes stay on the veins on his forearm when he’s running his hand through his hair, letting a groan slip out of his mouth.

you bite your lip watching him, feeling your panties dampen as his conversation continues.

“you can fuck off with that.”

you inhale sharply and matty hears. he thinks you’re annoyed because you wanted to go to sleep right before his phone rang.

he walks towards you and cups your cheek as he mouths a ‘sorry’.

“actually, i’ve got better things to do, mate. calm down, roll yourself a spliff and chill out, will do you good, i reckon.”

matty is still standing in front of you, so close to touch, to do anything you want to do to him. your hands sneak around his body to his back over his soft shirt.

“nah, have a nice one, i will not fucking continue this conversation. jesus, yeah, you too.”

matty slides his phone into his back pocket, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. the tension in his jaw doesn’t ease even as he exhales sharply, muttering something about “fucking tosser.”

“i’ve been a right twat tonight,” he says, his voice softer now, almost contrite. the furrow in his brow lingers, though, like he’s still half-lost in whatever argument just happened over the phone. “sorry it took so long.”

you swallow hard, suddenly hyperaware of how close he is. the space between you is barely there, his knees brushing yours where you’re perched on the edge of the bed. his t-shirt clings to him in all the right ways, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander.

you watch him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders are still tight, his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s not looking at you directly, not yet, but the way his chest rises and falls in short bursts tells you he’s still got all that anger simmering under the surface.

“it’s alright,” you say softly, shaking your head. “but do you want to talk about it?”

his lips press into a thin line, and he tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment like he’s hoping it’ll swallow him whole. “no,” he says finally, voice flat. “you wanted to go to bed, yeah? you must be knackered now.”

you frown, your head tilting. “i’m not, though.”

he glances down at you then, his brow furrowing like he doesn’t quite believe you. “you should be,” he mutters.

you shake your head again, slower this time. “you should talk about it,” you murmur, reaching out to rest your hands on his forearms. your fingers skim over his skin, and his muscles twitch beneath your touch. “it’ll help. get it out of your head, and then maybe you won’t feel so mad.”

he snorts, shaking his head, his eyes darting away from yours. “what’s the point? won’t change anything. and, anyway, you shouldn’t have to deal with me when i’m like this.”

“i don’t mind,” you say, your voice gentle. your thumbs rub small circles against his arms, coaxing him to relax even just a little. “besides, it’s better than letting it fester. you’ll just drive yourself mental.”

he doesn’t respond right away, his gaze dropping to where your hands rest on him. his jaw tightens again, like he’s still debating it, still trying to work through it on his own. but you can feel the way his tension hasn’t eased, the way he’s holding himself so rigid, and you slide your hands up slowly, tracing over his chest now.

“or,” you say, your voice quieter, almost testing, “you could find another way to let it out.”

his eyes snap to yours at that, narrowing slightly. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, his tone sharp, defensive, like he’s daring you to say it.

your fingers spread out against his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “it means,” you say slowly, your gaze not wavering from his, “you could do something to relieve that anger.”

his brow lifts slightly, and for a second, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. and then he scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “are you serious?”

“what?” you ask softly, your voice even, steady.

“were you—” he starts, breaking off with a disbelieving laugh before leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing. “were you getting off on that? me losing my shit?”

your face flushes hot, but you don’t pull your hands away. instead, your fingers curl into his shirt, gripping it lightly as you hold his gaze.

“not like that,” you say quickly, though your voice wavers just enough to make him raise an eyebrow.

“not like that,” he repeats, his tone skeptical. his hands come down to rest on your thighs, his grip firm but not harsh, and he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours. “go on, then. explain it to me.”

you swallow hard, your pulse quickening as his thumb brushes over your cheek. “matty, don’t—”

“don’t what?” he cuts you off. “don’t call you out on it? don’t notice the way you’ve been watching me like you want to devour me. i saw, love. the way you clenched your thighs together.”

you open your mouth to retort, but the words die on your tongue when his lips brush against your neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. his hands slide up your thighs, his fingers curling against the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“that’s dirty. thought you’re being a nice girl and you want to talk,” he scoffs, “instead you just want to be fucked.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues kissing your neck and his hands wandering to your upper thighs.

“fuck, you’re warm,” he murmurs, his voice rough in your ear. “and so bloody worked up, is this what my little tantrum does to you?”

you let out a soft whimper, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. “matty…”

“say it,” he demands, pulling back just enough to look at you. his pupils are blown, and his chest rises and falls heavily. “say you like it when I’m like this.”

you hesitate for a moment, but the way his hands tighten on your thighs has you caving. “i like it,” you admit in a shaky whisper. “i like it when you’re… like this.”

“knew it,” he mutters before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

the kiss is all-consuming, a perfect mix of frustration and desire. his hands wander freely now, sliding under your shirt to grip your waist. you gasp against his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

when he pulls back he shakes his head, “you want me to be rough?”

“yes,” you breathe out as fast as possible.

“christ. alright. lay down, get on the bed.”

you nod and scoot backwards, your eyes fixated on matty, who’s already pulling his shirt over his head.

he looks divine. black jeans with a belt and no shirt, his tattoos on full display for you drives you insane. you squirm a bit, waiting for his next move.

he’s taking your feet into his hand, rubbing your skin softly.

“darling, i need you to be absolutely sure and if you don’t fuck with anything i do, you need to tell me.”

“i swear, matty,” you say, offering him a warm smile.

“perfect.”

you watch his face as he carefully and slowly grabs at the fabric of your sleeping shorts, pulling them all the way down.

“gonna let me do what i want to you then?”

“yes.”

his hands find your hips, he's sliding down the bed, just enough so his head is level with your middle, he dips his head down and presses his lips to the soft flesh, his teeth sink into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, you involuntarily let out a soft moan.

he grips your hips more firmly, almost like you'll disappear before him if he doesn't, he moves his lips to your other hip and nips at your skin, "my fucking gorgeous girl, absolutely filthy for me," he says lowly, his breath hot against your skinz

you whimper softly as both of your hands find the nape of his neck. his mouth moves to the soft swell of your tummy and he nips at the supple skin right above your belly button.

he pulls away and peers up at you, eyes dark and full of lust, his mouth hovers over yours, "you drive me mental, you know that, love?" he whispers fervently against your lips, his fingers squeezing the meat of your thighs.

“i'm pretty crazy about you too, matty," you whisper, his cheeks flush pink at your words, still so bashful. he kisses the heel of your palm before patting the side of your thigh, "turn around for me darling, go on, all fours, need to see all of you," he smirks, his eyes full of intensity as they drag down your body.

you do as he asks and move to the middle of the bed, flipping onto your knees and walking your hands out in front of you, arching your back slightly and hiking your up ass in front of him, he moans at the sight.

"just like that," he praises softly behind you and your pussy throbs, a familiar sticky heat pools in your panties at his words. you playtully take a glance back at him, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he sits up and moves to his knees behind you, his hands run up the backs of your thighs all the way up until they meet the globe of your ass.

"look at you, so fuckin' perfect," he murmurs, oggling the curve of your ass as his index finger sneaks under the lace trim of your panties, taking the material between his forefinger and his thumb and lightly skimming his fingers down the lace, "jesus.”

matty scoffs, “s’kind of pathetic. drenching your little panties because i’m angry.”

his fingers roam down to your covered slit and you let out a soft gasp, which only spurs him on, he runs his fingers along the wet spot on your panties, smirking when he feels the wetness staining your panties, the tips of his fingers dip below your clothed slit,

"that’s my girl though, right? always so fuckin' wet for me.”

it should embarrass you, how easy you are for him but it doesn't because it's matty and knowing how much he revels in this, in you makes that small pinch of embarrassment fade away instantly...every single time.

you risk a look at him over your shoulder as he pulls his finger back out and in one swift movement he puts his finger between his lips, quickly sucking your arousal off his finger, like it's a mindless, habitual thing for him.

his hands reach for the waistband sitting on your hips, pulling the lacy fabric down, marveling at the dark fabric against your skin as he slowly drags the material down your thighs, his eyes catch the wetness soaking the lace while he pulls them down and he moans shamelessly.

“such a pretty cunt, darling.”

your eyes widen while you watch him bunch up the material and shove the lace in his back pocket and then his hand lands an affectionate smack to your ass, "eyes forward, i won’t say it again."

you tear your eyes away as he brings a firm hand to the small of your back, pressing you down and deepening the arch to his liking, you instinctively drop to your forearms- so pliant and needy for him-he brings his mouth down and sinks his teeth into the lush of your ass in approval.

“fucking christ,” he groans behind you, “you’re so easy. gonna let me do what i want to you just because you’re needy, pathetic.”

his hands grab your inner thighs, spreading your legs, now he has full sight of your glistening core, two thick fingers stroke through your folds.

"you’re a mess, darling, look at that- you’re dripping down your legs.”

his words make your cunt throb, you can't help the whine you let out, "matty, please."

matty laughs, “you’re a fucking beg. what do you want?”

"i need you, please do anything, please," you mewl, not caring how pathetic you sound.

but still, not enough for matty. a loud wet smack fills the room as he lays a firm slap to your cunt, your body flinches forward, the edges of your vision blurs and your aching, swollen cunt tingles and clenches at the harsh, yet welcomed contact.

he tuts, "that’s it? you need to try better than that, love. beg for it.”

"matty please, i want your cock. i want it," you whine and writhe beneath his firm palm.

"see? s’all i’ve wanted to hear," he cooes, his slick-coated fingers now soothing your folds. “wouldn’t be fun though if we already skipped to the best part, would it?”

he shifts behind you, sliding down off the bed, kneeling on the floor, he pulls you back towards the edge of the bed by your thighs. he tilts his head up just enough to dig his teeth into the meat of your upper thigh, just below the curve of your ass cheek and soothes the sting with a wet kiss.

you shiver, you're aching for him and his mouth is everywhere except for where you need him to be.

“stop writhing around like a needy slut,” he spits out, “you don’t want me to stop immediately, right?”

“no, no, sorry.” you plead, closing your eyes.

matty’s hands come up to grab the meat of your ass, spreading you open and gently pushing you forward for better access, he brings his mouth to hungrily kiss your inner thighs, tasting the sweet, sticky slick coating your skin and a pitiful moan slips from your lips.

“mhm, perfect.”

matty seems to have heard it and that's all it takes for his lips to make contact with your pussy, your breath hitches in your throat as he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow swipe through your slicked folds, the first one always drawn out and meticulous and just for him.

“oh f-fuck.” you moan.

a pressure already begins to pull taut low in your belly, you're squirming in his grasp but his hands move to firmly grip your outer thighs, keeping you open for him and pressed flush against his eager mouth. he fucking laves at you, devouring and savouring you like he'd never get the chance again.

“such a perfect one, yeah. my favorite taste.”

the vibrations from occasional muffled moans and groans against your pussy make you chant his name over and over like a prayer, even though he's the one on his knees.

“jesus matty," you moan out, your eyes roll back into your head as the coil inside your belly wounds up so tight every muscle in your body tenses. you start grinding your hips back into his face, he groans in response and loosens his grip on your legs, letting you take what you need from him.

it takes a moment to come down from your high, matty not being a help at all with the same pace he has on your clit.

he flattens his tongue against your clit before he closes his lips around it, suckling it into his mouth and moaning around it, the vibrations from his mouth makes the coil in your belly snap, and you cry out, using the sheets beneath you to stifle the noises slipping through your lips.

“fucking god,” you moan, “matty- can’t.”

matty hums a “you can,” and immediately latches on again.

the tip of his tongue works small, tight circles on your clit around and around, only this time with more pressure than before and within minutes or seconds-you don't really know at this point-you feel the pressure building in your belly and it's growing stronger by every lick and suck from his mouth. his tongue flicks over your clit before he licks it into his mouth once more, closing his lips tightly, he gives it one last tight circle of his tongue and suckle to your clit and you break, your second orgasm crashes over you.

“matty,” you moan over and over again, your brain completely empty with thoughts.

a choked moan escapes you, your legs quiver as they threaten to close while your hands fist the sheets beside your head, the grip he has on your thighs holds you open for him while you come all over his mouth and he laps you up, savoring, slurping, and swallowing down everything you give him.

“fucks sake,” he groans, “perfect cunt.”

milliseconds pass and he shifts behind you, lost in the haze of your orgasm, you can faintly hear ruffling as he stands up. he leans forward, kneading your ass in his palms before bending down to lay another bite on your other cheek, this time with more fervor, leaving a mark, your skin tingles.

matty’s hand is on him, stroking himself slowly, while his other hand is touching your body.

“just a little toy for me, aren’t you, darling?” he asks, not expecting an answer, “gonna let me fuck you?”

matty positions himself right against your ass and places his hands on your hips again and squeezes, “talk to me.”

"not like this,” you whine, not daring to look back, “wanna see you.”

“aww,” matty pouts, “you’ve got too many wishes, you know?”

nevertheless he grips your thighs and turns you around so you’re on your back. you’re eyes are staring at him but it seems like you’re not there, your brain feels hazy.

“you’re alright, love,” matty says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

you can only whine and grip the nape of his neck to receive a proper kiss.

“needy girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you a kiss, licking over your bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth.

your sounds are swallowed by his mouth as he keeps kissing you, grinding himself against your thigh.

“can-please,” you whine, stretching your arm out to find his cock, which is already leaking with pre cum.

matty lets out a quiet groan, you can't help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

“didn’t say you could touch me, love,” he grits out, “s’like you can’t get enough.”

“i can’t,” you smile, tugging at his hair, “can you please fuck me.”

you’re desperate. how could you not be with matty between your legs, right there.

matty slides inside of you roughly, not slow and steady, not giving you any time to adjust, he’s using you.

“fuck, this what you wanted?” he asks as his eyelids flutter closed.

he’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he's pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. there’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him.

matty notices immediately, “fucking christ, you’re making such a mess, s’heavenly.”

“matty,” you moan, “you- s’perfect.”

“yeah?”

matty brings his right hand back down to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers.

you bite down on his shoulder. your propped up foot thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets.

"feel nice?" matty asks into your hair as you bite down onto him, “fucking enjoy yourself?”

“feel so perfect," you whine against him. "jesus, so good,” you slur.

his weight is pushing you down so you can't wiggle away from any of the stimulation he's giving you. it accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don't get enough time to warn him you're close.

you’re clenching around him uncontrollably, rolling your eyes back and clawing your nails into his shoulder blades.

“let me have it, come on,” he groans, rutting into you as deep as before, “come for me.”

he fucks you harder, his pace frantic. "such a perfect cunt, darling." he groans, dipping his head into your neck to nip at your skin. “my gorgeous girl."

"oh, god, matty..." you cry, your orgasm quickly approaching, unable to stop it no matter how much you want to prolong the feeling.

it doesn't take long before your orgasm crashes over you, pulsing through you in waves, back arching off the bed as you reach out for anything to ground yourself. hands finding the back of his head, pulling him into your chest.

“just like that, perfect, darling.”

he follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you, collapsing on top of you, his chest heaving.

“fuck,” he exhales, moving one more slow time again to torture the both of you.

you’re overstimulated, your legs hurting so good there are tears prickling in your eyes. you brush your hands over matty’s shoulders and back, humming as you try to love on him.

“you still angry?” you ask, smiling to yourself.

matty groans when he lifts his head to look at you, stealing a quick kiss, “nah. unless you want me to be,” he jokes.

“give me a break,” you giggle.

“i love you, darling,” he murmurs, sliding out of you, hissing at the cold air.

you scrunch up your nose in pain, your ass, thighs and the skin between your legs hurting real good.

“i’ll draw you a bath, don’t worry, love.”

you enjoy this the most. matty being the sweet boy you’ve known forever, his only mission to take care of you.

[alchemistdoctor]

Okay but also consider:

Batman has seen this go down.

Dumb sweet moron Brucie Wayne shows up to the cult. Says his kids told him about it, and said he should go, because his parenting skills need some work.

Bruce thinks he's just here to sponsor a good effort and make sure these kids get taken care of.

Instead, he gets Jazz, who walks him through how he might be autistic, and that while he knows he loves his kids and is proud of them, it's important to say so out loud, and listen to their responses and love languages. She walks him through how even if you don't end up doing what your kid suggests, it's important to hear them out and explain why. All of the Fenton A+ parenting skills come out as what not to do as Jazz walks Bruce how *not* to fall into the trap of Work being more than your children.

Dick starts to wonder if his dad got brainwashed into the cult when Bruce starts giving him hugs regularly. Initiating them himself, even.

Tim is confused. Bruce is *scheduling one on one time* with Tam so he "respects Tim's schedule" and actually seems to be hearing him out on some of the things that make the rest of the team write Tim off as a conspiracy theorist.

Damian is thrilled to get regular duels and Bruce actually starts volunteering at one of the shelters. He is great at getting people to adopt because he gets tangled up in leashes and people rescue him and by the time they have they've bonded with at least one dog.

Duke gets one on one time, and suddenly Bruce is putting a lot of extra effort into meta rights, even in Gotham.

Cass knows what's going on from the outset but she is still very proud of her dad and likes that he tells her all the things she read in his body language, like "love you," and "nice job".

Jason has no idea what the fuck is happening. He feels so much better. Bruce is being respectful of his haunt neighborhood. Bruce floated asking Supes to put the Joker in the Negative Zone?? WHAT IS GOING ON

Danny is just happy Mr Wayne is sponsoring this nice apartment.

You know the drill.

Cultists want to summon the Ghost King, the League pull up to stop them, failed summoning successfully and got Ghost Prince Danny.

With a twist.

The head cultist tells Danny what they want, but it's so pitiful that Danny just sits them down, each and every one of the cultists and explains that maybe it isn't the best idea to give your soul to an otherworldly entity just for that.

Then it somehow turns into therapy because Jesus Christ these people have been living some pretty shit lives, then Danny decides to pull some favors with Frostbite and the Yetis to get some of the cultists family members medical treatment for their Mother/Father/Siblings that they're too poor to pay for.

Other times he just kinda tries to get a few others to get more confidence after being drawn in by a few bad people against their will and try and give them ways to get out of said situation.

The entire time the Justice League was just, there, watching all of this go down and questioning a lot of things. Simultaneously Batman is thinking of starting up a program to not make this a repeat, wherein people think they have no other options than to give up their literal soul to an otherworldly entity in hopes to turn their life around.

[muletia]

I know you mentioned on your OP+Megs+Ratchet ask adding in one or both of the scouts, but I can't help but imagine the sheer unparalleled comedy(ish) of the Autobots watching their entire high command (aka OP, Ratchet and Ultra Magnus, of all mecha) go gaga over some poor human. I think the other Autobots would be taking the human out for a spin if only so they can get a breather from everything. (I think Wheeljack would do it more/most often specifically because he knows it'll piss Ultra Magnus off.)

I also have the idea of Ultra Magnus almost being a stop gap for the other two's behavior for one reason or another (at least until he finds out that Megs is gunning for the human too).

Your ideas are excellent either way though👌

this is the post anon is referring to

never been a huge magnus fan in the show but I adore this concept!

To be honest, obsessed!Ultra Magnus would be the most exhausting to be around — and above all, the most tedious — of the entire Autobot Trinity, due to his pedantry and ironclad adherence to rules that weigh heavily on you as well. He’s intense, always keeping a vigilant optic on you, monitoring your every move to ensure you don’t accidentally hurt yourself. After all, the native life forms of this planet are especially fragile and must be protected 24/7, right? So, Ultra Magnus approaches Optimus for permission to take you under his care. To protect you from the Decepticons, of course. It’s not because his little fascination with you is slowly evolving into something deeper — a bond compelling him to stay close to you.

And Optimus agrees because he trusts Magnus and knows you’re in good hands, as he constantly worries about you himself.

The problem is that Magnus’s company is suffocating. Want to leave the base to get some fresh air, have a smoke, or just take a moment for yourself? The SIC of the Autobots is always a step behind, firmly reminding you that you can’t leave the hangar without Optimus’s permission. Don’t make him resort to bringing you back by force.

You can’t even hide in the base, find a quiet corner, and do your own thing, because one of them is always watching. Most often, it’s Ultra Magnus, who immediately gives you a lecture about staying within their line of sight—so you don’t accidentally get stepped on. It’s just an excuse, of course; Magnus simply has a stick so far up his aft that he can’t just admit he loves your company and feels strangely anxious and lost when you’re not around.

His microscopic knowledge of humans will also cause you countless headaches. All it takes is a sneeze, and Ultra Magnus is already dragging you to Ratchet, convinced you’re dying. And Ratchet takes your health matters very seriously, so you end up spending several minutes in the medbay, undergoing a thorough checkup. All the while, you are subjected to the medic’s grumbling about taking better care of yourself, under the intense gaze of the SIC of the Autobots, who’s tracking your every move and patiently waiting for the verdict.

The worst, however, is when you find yourself with the entire Holy Trinity in the base. None of them will ask you outright, “How was your day?” but everyone is dying to listen. This leads to a scenario where the Autobot elite huddles around you, hearts practically glowing in their optics, as you talk about workplace gossip or your current hobbies. The rest of the world ceases to exist for them. If the team wants their competent high command back, they have no choice but to pry them away from you.

Enter Wheeljack, who will occasionally whisk you away for private flying sessions in his ship, giving you a much-needed break. I think Arcee would take you for a ride a few times as well, unable to bear the sight of her superiors practically drooling over you. The long and detailed scolding they’ll receive from Magnus upon your return is another matter…

The SIC of the Autobots will immediately scoop you up into his servos before you can take another step and carry you straight back to Ratchet and Optimus, who can never get enough of your presence.

[haobubbles]

Riize when you argue and they have to go on tour

genre: fluff, crack n kinda angst?

tw: no foolproof read!!, cursing

roxy yapps: i publicily apologise for taking so long to post smth😭 with my exam's week and now christmas (having family over ALL THE TIME) i haven't had time but well, here it is!! enjoy and if u can leave some ideas for req!!

── . ★ shotaro

after the attitude of fans at the airport and the fight he had had with you, this boy was quite a mess and was in very low spirit.

known as probably the most energetic boy on this earth, that day he would catch their fans by surprise when, even if his performance was astounding, he sounded more tired than usual and he clearly had his mind somewhere else. when he closed the door of his room in the hotel, after the concert, he made sure to send an apologise to briizes on weverse. without a second thought (after cheking the time of your country ofc) he called you.

"if you just need to, pretend we're fine until i come back home. i can't perform knowing i've fucked up and haven't made things right"

── . ★ eunseok

after having a fight with you, eunseok sent you a message about his departure for the tour, and as he didn't receive any message back, he second guessed that you needed your space, which he decided to give. he was sure you'd reach out when you felt better but the wait was slowly killing him.

on stage, he wouldn't seem as if he just had a fight with his significant other, although he kept on thinking about his electronic device, and if it had buzzed with a message of yours. he definetely acted flirty with the camera, sending flying kisses or winks in hopes you were watching it at home and you knew they were for you.

seeing your messages on his lockscreen made his face lit up instantly, which even if he knew he would be made fun of later, he couldn't care less.

eunseok: did you see me on stage? all those flying kisses and winks were for you

── . ★ sungchan

would definetely be pouty and with big ass moodswings.

on stage, he would be the sungchan everyone knew and loved, however, on backstage he would be (for the couple minutes they have) pouty, with his eyebrows furred and maybe even moody.

his teammates would probably need to take part in it by telling him how much you miss him. then he would call you with all his confidence built up and he would curse them out loud for setting him up.

"well, now that i've called you, let's just fix things okay? i miss you and i dont want to be abroad while having an on-going fight with you"

── . ★ wonbin

number 1 sulky boy. he would be confident about you two fixing your diferences but he hated the thought of getting on stage and being in a fight with his first and most important supporter.

either spam messages or he would go silent because he'd be too scared to say something or do things to worsen the situation. however; he wouldn't wait for you to make the first step.

would deadass indirectly tell you things during his speech "don't forget to tell your loved ones how much you appreciate them, no matter if you're arguing or phisically distant from each other.."

would leave everyone stunned and would low-key be very proud of himself when he would see your message "call me when you have some time x"

── . ★ seunghan

another boy with speeches however, he would take your arguing as a possibility to get you back, so he would put up a romantic act just for you to see (even if he was in front of thousands of people)

woulnd't be too worried because he was confident in deeply knowing you. he knew how you acted when you were mad and how he was supposed to act

"i've started listening to (your fav song) recently but i think it lacks some reasoning, could someone explain it to me?" "can i marry you? oh no, no, my heart can receive all the love from everyone but it can only give it to one person back"

── . ★ sohee

he would be lost. not only about what to do, but not talking to you and being currently not in good terms, it wrecked his routine and his "normality" so he wouldn't be sure on what to do.

i feel like he would need to talk it out with another member to ask for advice on how to make things right. he would be too shy to act bold by hismelf, so that's why he recurred to talk with euseok during the flight. even if the older member told him to just call you and have a proper conversation (which he of course would do) he dedided to add his own touch.

during the concert, he would say some words or constructions you usually used and poses and gestures you usually made. he just wanted to show you that even if he hadn't reached out, he kept you wiht him everywhere, everytime, no matter what.

"please call me or text me when you can. i miss you so fucking bad and i refuse to go on like this"

── . ★ anton

wheni tell you this boy would risk losing his flight because he didn't want to leave while you hadn't fixed things.

if he did really had to leave (or they just obligated him), he would be all the time sending you reassuring messages about how much he loves you, or maybe some memes to make you laugh.

on stage, he would be bubblier and happier than usual, but he would go viral for singing a snippet of 'the reason' of hoobastank. when the fans would ask him later on about why did he choose to sing it, he would dismiss the topic by saying that he just felt like it.

"i hope you liked it..i bet you'll even like it more when you know the boys have been making fun of me for 15 mins now"

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT with a partner that struggles with an ED

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘hi, if you're comfortable, could you write svt with a partner who has eating disorders? im so sorry if you're not comfortable with that, i did read your guidelines post but maybe I've missed it! have a lovely day :) 💜’

TW/CW: This will discuss a sensitive topic. It is meant to be comforting and relatable, but if you’re not in a headspace for it right now, I recommend not reading. 

A/N: I recognize that idols often have issues like this of their own, but for the sake of this post, I won’t be addressing it in this reaction. The pressure to look a certain way is one of the many things I fundamentally disagree with about the idol industry. I’d really rather them carry a little more weight and be happier and healthier. I think most of us would. 

Focuses on the physical recovery - Seungcheol, Hoshi, Mingyu, Chan

The physical impact of the disorder is what makes him put his foot down about it. If you like to maintain a certain body type, he can’t say too much about it and really does want you to be happy with your body. But he can say plenty about the anemia, the low blood pressure, the GI issues, the hormonal issues, the dental problems, etc. You never feel good, and he’s tired of it. He won’t be mean, but he’ll be stubborn and insistent that you seek treatment of some sort, with the first goal to just start feeling better physically. 

Focuses on the behavioral recovery - Joshua, Wonwoo, DK, Seungkwan, Vernon

Encourages you to eat and also encourages you to keep said food down. Those are non-negotiables to him. But he also encourages you not to overdo it on the food and to pace yourself when it comes to exercising. He stresses moderation for those last two things. He’ll figure out what you feel comfortable eating until you’re ready to try a normal diet because a little food is better than nothing. And he’s so calm when that doesn’t go well sometimes, reminding you that it will be okay, but he wants you to be just as brave about it as he is patient. But if it does go well, he’ll give you endless amounts of praise for facing the issue head-on. 

Focuses on the psychological recovery - Jeonghan, Jun, Woozi, Minghao

Feels that it’s best to tackle this sort of thing at the root of the issue. He wants to know when this habit started and why you feel compelled to keep doing it. If it’s poor body image, he’ll listen patiently, but you have to listen to him explain how he sees you, which may be hard to do because his take is so different. If it has something to do with how you were raised regarding food, he’s dissecting that with you, so maybe one day it will click that it’s not the way to live life now. And if it’s about control or perfectionism, he’s encouraging you to start letting go of some of it and trust that it will be okay if you change your behavior or your weight. Exceedingly patient about it without ever making you feel that you’re being irrational when you struggle with this. 

[dragonling348]

Okay wait Imma go through these one by one for Secret (my oc) because I can. This is gonna be a whole bunch of nonsense hehehe

The Am I Gay quiz would be useless, he already has a husband

Talk about his feelings? He does that a lot. He only really reaches surface level and every time he talks about anything deeper something bad happens. Thus the whole funneling everything into surface-level anger.

Transing his gender? Would be interesting. He would have a lot of toxic masculinity to detach from his identity that he simply wouldn't WANT to. Also I don't think he's trans (unfortunately)

Stop being a dick is a top contender. Bro can just stfu and listen to the people around him and that may do something. That's gonna help him with family issues I think, but I think the moment he stops being a dick he's gonna realize how seriously depressed he is.

Ohhh moving on? His husband is (in his eyes) the only thing he has left. We come back to the issue of depression. This guy is codependent on very concerning levels.

Stay with them and love them? Okay. Okay we're getting somewhere. He could most certainly be better for Gunter in a lot of ways, but it's not for lack of love.

Just in general take steps to heal from trauma. Yeah okay. Put this cunt in therapy. He's gonna bitch and moan about it and it would take a longass time for him to even TRY, but this would be fascinating. Let's unpack that bro. I want to see you actually address some of your problems. That would be something, wouldn't it?

Stop dying and getting injured for five fucking seconds... yeah. That would help. I feel like a lot of these coping mechanisms are necessary when you're constantly surrounded by enemies, which he believes he is. He can't show weakness because he has five nemesises who would immediately use it against him! Give this bitch a break! Or don't! I love killing him!

Needs a near-death experience to straighten him out... he's had many. It didn't work.

Crying is good. And entertaining for me. I would love seeing him cry. Would it fix anything? No, and he'd feel terrible about it after. But I'd enjoy it.

Okay *now* I can click an answer, now that I've examined my options. Stop being a dick man.

Probably missed a key one, but whatever

[menteycorazoncito]

Háblame - Pedri González

ᥫ᭡: pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x reader

ᥫ᭡: warnings: angst to fluff, breakup, lmk if forgot smth

ᥫ᭡: a/n: I was listening to Tayc while writing and the idea to combine some lyrics in the fic came to me. Criticism and feedback are always welcome. Enjoy :)

navigation | request guidelines

It has been a few weeks since you had last seen Pedri, a few weeks since you have heard his voice, felt his warmth or laughed about his foolish jokes and humorous banter. It all used to seem insignificant, yet now, it was all you could think about. Still holding onto the faint memories for dear life.

Things had changed between you two. It was nothing dramatic. No big fight or disagreement, just a dull emptiness that replaced the connection you once had. You got too caught up in your own life and insecurities to even notice. So close, yet so out of reach.

Pedri laid wide awake in his bed, staring out the window at the beautiful Barcelona skyline, wondering when he got to the state he was in right now. Long sleepless hours, filled with thoughts and regrets that drove him crazy. He didn’t exactly know what he had done wrong. But there must have been an explanation as to why you left.

His phone on the bedside table mocked him with its silence. He grabbed it and for the umpteenth time that night his finger hovered over your contact, before setting it back down and sighing into the darkness of his empty bedroom. 

He missed you. The way your perfume lingered in his flat, even after you left reminded him of you, and it was killing him slowly inside. 

Pedri couldn’t get himself to call you; not in the state he was in. He desperately needed to see you.

You were sitting on the couch with a cup of tea, reading your book. Yet, you found yourself rereading the same page multiple times, unable to focus on the words. Your thoughts drifted to a certain Spanish brunette.

You jumped at the sound of doorbell ring. Who could it be at this hour? You asked yourself in denial because deep inside you knew who it might have been. 

“Pedro.” you said, his name stuck in your throat, as you opened the door.

He stood in the hallway of the building blankly staring at you, looking worse than ever. The shadows under his eyes more prominent than they already were, his hoodie wrinkled, and his hair messy. His posture reminded you of a lost puppy. It looked like he had cried, eyes red and puffy. Did he really let himself go like that? 

He stared as if you would disappear if even moved his eyes ever so little. You on the other hand tried to keep composure after seeing him.

“Can I come in?” he finally spoke.

“Why are you here?” you asked, desperate to know the reason for his visit at this hour. 

“We need to talk…” he said, his voice barely audible. “I deserve an explanation.”

Against your better judgement you opened the front door wider to let him into your flat. You stepped aside as he shuffled inside and sat on the sofa of your living room. 

You trailed behind him and for a moment there you didn’t believe the sight in front of you: Pedri, the man you love(d) sat in front of you in utter silence. His big doe eyes glazed with tears, reflecting a sadness that mirrored your own.

The room was silent, broken by the sound of Barcelona’s traffic outside. Both of you did not know what to say or do. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife, as you wondered how it has gotten this bad.

“What happened to us…” he finally asked.

You were silent, the words got caught in your throat. Truth is, you had imagined this moment endless times. Each scenario playing differently in your mind. Yet nothing could have ever prepared you for this encounter. 

“I though we were doing fine. All of a sudden it’s like we don't know each other. You gave up on us at the first hardship of our relationship. It’s like you never even fought for us, at least not like I did.” he said, his voice cracking. 

Utter silence. His words hung heavily in the air. Still you remained silent.

“Talk to me…” he urged. “Talk to me, even if it’s to insult me. Tell me that you hate me, just don’t ignore me”

Tears filled your eyes as you realised how much you actually hurt him. “I didn’t fight for you because I thought you’d be better off without me, Pedro” 

He flinched at the use of his actual name, since you always used nicknames with him. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

“You think I would be better off without you?” he scoffed, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You are everything I have ever wanted. Do you know how much it killed me to hear nothing from you? I analysed every single move I have ever made in our relationship to see if I ever wronged you. It killed me to see the person I love slip away from me day by day. I did everything I could to at try and make you stay but I wake up one day, your things are gone, and I am blocked everywhere.” His sadness quickly turned into frustration. 

You blinked emptily at him. His words hit you like a tidal wave and for the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to crack.

“I- I thought I was protecting you. All the pressure, the media, the traveling. You were away half the time, and I didn't know how to deal with it. It was never my intention to hurt you. I thought letting you go would be what’s best of us, before any of us get attached. No matter how much it hurt me. I was so selfish that I ended up hurting you too in the process. Plus, it was too late when I came back to my senses. The damage was already done, and I don’t know how to fix it,” You confessed, your voice quiet and high pitched. Pedri wouldn’t have heard you if you weren’t sitting so close to each other.

“So that’s it? After everything, you’re just giving up” He was growing more frustrated by the minute

“I never felt enough for you. You are this amazing footballer that all girls dream of, and I am- I am just… me. Plain me.”

The walls you had built came down, showing how fragile you were in reality. Ashamed of your vulnerability, you looked away, finding a sudden interest in the bookshelf of your living room as the realisation hit you like a thousand bricks.

You had ruined everything. You lost everything to your own insecurities. 

“Mira cariño, I didn’t come to fight,”  he reassured you softly, his gaze softened at the sight of the tears glistening in your eyes. “You were enough. You always were. I came here because I really miss you. This emptiness is killing me.” 

He scooted closer to you, taking your hand in his, looking at you with a look of sympathy. The same look he had always given you when you were upset. As you allowed the tears to finally fall, he gave your hand a squeeze. 

“I miss you too.” your voice cracked in between the sobs. “I miss us.”

He cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in his eyes that make you fall in love over again. 

“We can fix this, mi amor, you just need to want it too.” he reassured you, getting his own hopes up.

You nodded, not knowing what else to do. As he pulled you into a hug you began to sob even more (if that was even possible). How missed him. The scent of his woody cologne filling you with nostalgia of what you had, the way his arms wrapped around you, the way he made everything into a joke. You put your head on his chest as he put his chin on your head whispering sweet nothing to you. The sound of his heartbeat calmed your sobs a bit and for the first time in weeks you felt a little bit of relief.

“I want you back,” you admitted through tears. “No matter how much I tried to move on and live without you, but I found myself hanging onto every single things that reminds me of you. I can’t sleep without you here, the bed feels too big and the flat feels quiet. I can’t live without you, Pedrito.” 

The two of you spent what was left of the evening, silently in each others arms. Pedri occasionally pressed kisses to your head and hands like he always used to do. And for the first time in what felt like forever, a sense of peace and a flicker of hope warmed your cold heart. 

“Estoy aquí para ti, siempre” he whispered reassuringly in your hair before you two drifted into a deep sleep.

Maybe, just maybe, this time you would get it right.