#this could be read as multiple different I like yous but I’m leaning toward them starting to become friends

[charlotte-family-apologist]

Kenshi: You didn’t have to do that.

Suchin, wiping blood off her sword: Okay? It’s too late to take it back. What do you want me to do?

Kenshi: Nothing, I like you.

[toji-bunny-girl]

bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day

ON THE H★USE !!

#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭

“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”

“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”

It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania. 

“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”

“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”

Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them. 

15,900 yen. 

The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart. 

Oh, how he would love to play saviour. 

“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear. 

Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar. 

It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter. 

His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then. 

“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?

Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”

“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door. 

The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home. 

“(Y/N)?”

A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked. 

How fucking lucky.

“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Y-You…as—”

“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble. 

“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence. 

“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.

“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league. 

“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”

“Fucking whore.”

“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”

“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?” 

A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground. 

“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation. 

Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.

A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face. 

Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him. 

The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”

“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids. 

Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face. 

His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb. 

Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”

Cute, Toji chortled. 

Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty. 

A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core. 

The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines. 

“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch. 

“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth. 

“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate. 

“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.

You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness. 

His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence. 

“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him. 

His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”

With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space. 

His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass. 

Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle. 

Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks. 

Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him. 

Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths

“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”

Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his. 

“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his. 

With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness. 

Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass. 

You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”

“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”

You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty. 

“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils. 

You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.” 

Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting. 

“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car. 

“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then. 

His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”

“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers. 

Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief. 

Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body. 

You almost fell in love. 

Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips. 

Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot. 

His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words. 

Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock. 

He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls squeezing in empty neediness.

“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.

“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.

“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.

“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”

“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”

Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.

“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.

“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.

“What d’ya say?”

Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”

Aww. How fucking adorable.

You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”

“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.

“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.

“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”

“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”

Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”

Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”

“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”

“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.

“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.

“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.

“Cum f’me again, baby?”

“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.

Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.

Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.

“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”

© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work

[onlymingyus]

Love Scene (svthub's cupid for you collab)

pairing; choi seungcheol x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; alcohol, poor knowledge of wine (on my part), pet names, seungcheol is a simp, unprotected sex, manhandling/cheol lifts the reader, mentions of the readers lipstick color (could look different on all skin tones), begging, slight dom!seungcheol, big dick!seungcheol, lingerie kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating, breeding kink, aftercare

w/c; 5.3k 

svthub cupid for you masterlist

a/n; this is part of the svthub cupid for you collab valentine's gift exchange event. my fic is for my valentine @multi-kpop-fanfics. i hope you enjoy this wifey. i had a lot of fun writing cheollie for you. happy valentines day. i love you. thank you to @wongyuseokie and @onlyhuis for proofreading for me!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Seungcheol smiles against the wine glass pursed on his lips. You looked beautiful as you listened to the woman drone on about the notes and undertones of the wine that she had been pouring for the two of you to try, but Seungcheol had stopped paying attention three bottles ago. 

“This one is a Cabernet Sauvignon.” 

You hum along with the woman’s words as you bring the glass to your lips, taking a sip of the dark red liquid and letting the dry wine rest on your tongue, trying to taste the notes she was explaining even as you feel Seungcheol’s eyes on your face. 

“A personal favorite and one I know a lot of couples tend to want to take home, especially on evenings like this. Notes of cranberries and dark chocolate. What do you think, Seungcheol?” 

Hearing his name from the host, your boyfriend smiles, looking away from you to pick up the glass, tipping it back quicker than you had. You watch as he swirls the liquid on his tongue, tilting his head only to purse his lips and look at yours as you let them part ever so slightly in amusement. 

“Not my favorite, honestly. Especially if I’m buying a bottle for Valentine’s Day. I want something sweet. Something that will make me feel as good as I do when I look at her.” 

He was being ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but look away, feeling your cheeks burning at his attempts to be sweet. The woman laughs, reaching for the glasses in front of you, and Seungcheol pulls them back towards her before she searches her inventory for the perfect choice as you shake your head. 

“Seriously, Cheol?” 

Smiling, Seungcheol leans to press his lips against your warm cheek, chuckling at the heat under his lips even as you try to pull away, feeling embarrassed by his public display of attention. 

“Of course, I’m serious, Y/N. It’s Valentine’s Day. If there was any day for me to be as cheesy as possible, it’s today, and you look beautiful. I can’t help it…  I think Cupid shot me in the ass because I’m head over heels for you, baby.” 

Scoffing, you push Seungcheol away, listening to his laughter, even as you attempt to hide your laugh, muttering about how stupid he is. 

“Stupidly in love with you.” 

"Ya, could you shut up Choi Seungcheol?” 

Turning back towards you and a now playfully pouty Seungcheol, the woman laughs under her breath as she shows you both a different bottle of wine. 

“This is a Chateau Chantal Cherry Port. This is the sort of dessert wine I would recommend serving with chocolate. Perfect for a day like today.” 

Seungcheol watches your lips pull up into a smile as the dark liquid is poured into two small port glasses and offered to you. He lets you taste it first, listening to the soft sound of appreciation that escapes your lips before he tilts his glass back and his eyes widen. 

“Oh wow…” 

You can only nod along as you watch your boyfriend this time. He had spent the day “stupidly in love” with you, but now you were almost drunk with how much you were clearly enamored with the man. 

“Rich cherries with a bit of tobacco and wood smoke depth makes this port special." 

Neither of you were paying attention to your host at this point, as Seungcheol notices you looking at him, the glass resting on his lips as he finishes what is left in his glass. He needed to get you out of here. What made this special was you, not any underlying notes or fruits or what barrel the wine had been aged in. 

“We’ll take a bottle.” 

You smile, leaning your head back against the wall next to your front door, as Seungcheol’s lips press against the column of your throat. He had barely kept his hands to himself the entire drive home, but you weren’t complaining. You were on fire for him, and it would seem the feeling was mutual. 

Groaning against your skin, Seungcheol’s fingers slide along your arm to your wrist, where your fingers are wrapped around a blue jasmine bouquet he had stopped to pick up on the way home. He tried to be careful, dragging your arm up the wall, knowing you were holding the flowers, but he could feel petals hitting his shirt and hear the soft fluttering as they fell to the ground. 

“Cheol…” 

His brows furrowing at the level of need in your voice as you say his name, Seungcheol rakes his teeth against your throat before pulling back to look at your pretty face, leaning in to press his plush lips to yours. Your lips were almost the same color as the wine that he had bought for the two of you to share for the night, and it was driving him crazy. 

You whimper against his lips, and Seungcheol feels his cock starting to stiffen in his pants, causing him to hiss and lean his forehead against yours in an effort to calm himself down. Your free hand was tugging at his dress shirt under his jacket, pulling it from his pants already, but he had two bags in his hand and a plan for the evening before he wanted to have you on his cock. 

“You are so fucking perfect. I love you so much.” 

Seungcheol feels your smile against his cheek as he leans to brush his lips against your ear to whisper in your ear. He could feel the chill bumps spreading along your skin. As hard as he was making this for himself, he knew it was just as difficult for you not to beg him  to take you to bed. 

“My forever valentine.” 

Your fingernails almost rip at Seungcheol’s shirt as you feel his hot breath against the shell of your ear, but his words cause your heart to swell. He was cheesy, and you couldn’t help but smile, but he was making you fall in love with him all over again. 

“I love you too, Cheol. I–can we just..." 

He knew what you were going to ask. Smiling, Seungcheol shakes his head, making you whine as he pulls back from you, only stopping to kiss you gently before taking your free hand and guiding you towards the kitchen. 

“Not yet. Patience, darling.” 

You did want to have patience, but as you followed Seungcheol into the kitchen, his fingers falling from yours as he laid his bags on the island, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You knew how important today was to him. Every day with you was important to him, but holidays, no matter how commercial and silly they really were, were important if they could be spent with you and celebrating you. 

“Here, sit down, baby. Let me grab a couple of things.” 

Seungcheol watches you smile as he turns the swiveling high bar stool towards you. He loved your smile. He loved how easily he could make you happy on days like this. Just little actions would have you smiling and giggling for him, and that had Seuncheol’s chest feeling tight with love. 

Turning you back towards the island, Seungcheol leans to kiss your cheek, listening to your soft laughter as he leaves you watching him. He could hear you shifting behind him, but he kept himself to his task: two wine glasses, a plate, and a fork. No matter how much he wanted to take you to bed right away, he needed to practice the patience he expected you to have. 

Crossing your arms on the counter, you lay your chin on your hand, tilting your head slightly while watching your boyfriend complete his tasks. He was effortlessly handsome, and you could imagine every day of the rest of your life spent like this. He made it as easy as breathing. 

He smiled as he looked at you fondly, seeing you with your head resting on the counter. Seungcheol reaches for the bags, taking out the bottle of wine from the vineyard along with a plain box that he had been insistent on stopping to get on the way home. 

“You are so cute. I can’t stand when you look at me like that.” You smile once again, and Seungcheol’s heart beats quicker. “You make it hard for me to tell you no.” 

“Then why would you ever tell me no, Cheol?” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol carefully opens the wine, letting out a sigh as he holds one of the delicate wine glasses in his left hand and pours some of the deep red liquid into it. 

“I rarely do. I just ask for patience, like right now. I want to do this in the right order. I got you nice things; I want to enjoy them with you and then enjoy you. Is that so terrible?” 

Biting at your lips, you feel your cheeks burning at Seungcheol’s words and his meaning. He was right. You knew he had spoiled you in so many ways, over and over again. Today was no different. You watched how he held the wine glass in his fingers, and it reminded you of how he held you on so many occasions, as if you’d break, like you were precious. 

“It’s not… I just want you so much. I miss you already.” 

Sliding the glass across the bar to you, Seungcheol grins, tilting his head at your wording. You missed him? He was right in front of you, albeit separated by some quartz and wood, but he knew what you meant; he would still make you say it. 

“Is that so? Sweetheart, I’m right here. How could you possibly–” 

"Cheol, you know what I mean.” 

Cutting off his words, you whine out your own, causing Seungcheol to chuckle as he pours his own glass of the port before putting the bottle to the side, picking up his glass, and bringing it to his nose as he swirls the liquid gently in the glass. 

“Why don’t you just tell me, Princess?" 

It wasn’t a question; rather, it was a request, a command. Licking your lips, your eyes move to your wine glass, your fingers running over the stem as your lips pull up into a small smirk, knowing Seungcheol’s eyes are on you. You know he’s watching as you pout your lips slightly and bat your lashes in a way that drives him crazy. 

“I miss your lips on mine; I miss them on my skin. I want you inside of me, baby.” 

Tipping his glass back against his lips, Seungcheol takes a breath through his nose as the wine hits his tongue when you finally tell him what he wants to hear. He would give you what you wanted in due time. Shaking his head, Seungcheol smiles against the delicate glass, lowering his eyes to meet yours as you take your first sip of the wine, letting out a small happy sound to the taste. 

“And I want to be inside of you, and I will be if you can be patient with me. I have a treat for you. It’s a special day, remember?” 

You smile, lifting your shoulders as you nod in response, watching Seungcheol turn the plain white box towards you. You could smell the sweet dessert, but you weren’t entirely sure what it was. It wasn’t until he lifted the lid that your mouth started to water, and you kicked your feet out of happiness. 

“My favorite…” 

“Mm, only the best for you, darling. The last slice of red velvet cake from your favorite bakery. I called ahead to make sure she put it back for me. Are you happy?” 

Lifting the fork, Seungcheol smiles, watching you nod as he cuts off the tip of the cake before turning the bite towards you and letting you lean in to take it from the fork. Watching your eyes close and listening to the sound of your pleasure from enjoying your favorite dessert causes his smile to widen, with his eyes closing very slightly. It was almost better than sharing it with you, just watching you enjoy it on your own. 

“It’s perfect. You have to try some. It’s perfect with the port. Let me?” 

With your fingers sliding over his, you take the fork from Seungcheol, cutting off the next bite of red velvet cake and offering it to him as he continues to smile at you. It’s only after urging him to take it, the crumb of the cake brushing against his lips, that your boyfriend takes the bite from the fork, his brows furrowing to the sweet taste, and he closes his eyes, savoring it. 

Taking another bite, you hum happily as Seungcheol runs his thumb along his lips to push away any remaining crumbs. Watching you eat, Seungcheol brings his wine to his lips with a smile as he uses his free hand to scroll through his phone. The atmosphere was almost perfect. The two of you in the comfort of your house, your favorite cake in front of you, shared the perfect dessert wine, but the sound of music made you look surprised. 

“Dance with me?” 

Seungcheol’s fingers run along your hand as you drop the fork on the mostly empty plate as Florence & The Machine’s Stand by Me plays quietly from the phone resting on the kitchen counter. You can only nod, letting your boyfriend spin your chair away from the island as he grins at you and your serious expression. Helping you down from the stool, Seungcheol slides his fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he takes the lead, swaying with you to the rhythm of the music. 

“What is that look for? It’s your favorite…” 

Of course, it was. Of course, he remembered. Leaning your cheek against his shoulder, you smile, closing your eyes as Seungcheol hums along with the words to the song until you finally speak. 

“This is perfect, Cheol. You’ve done too much.” 

Humming as he considers your words, Seungcheol leans his head back so he can look down at you, causing you to look up at him as he does. You watch as he shakes his head, finally disagreeing with you. Gentle fingers caress your cheek before Seungcheol allows his hand to rest against the side of your neck, keeping you grounded as if you might float away from him. 

“Never enough. I love you, and it’s Valentine’s day… I’m just enjoying your company. I’m enjoying that pretty look on your face when you like something.” 

Pouting slightly, you watch as Seungcheol smiles into a laugh, leaning to gently press his lips against your pout. 

“No more pouting, sweetheart. Finish this dance with me….hm?” 

Your lips pull up against Seungcheol’s lips as his fingers trail along your neck and up against the side of your hair. Your skin was starting to feel warm again at his attention. You were wanting him badly again, feeling his body so close to yours even as the sweet words of the song attempted to keep you in the moment. 

Hearing your soft whimper when he pulls back from your lips, Seungcheol bites at his bottom lip as he lets you turn in front of him, his fingers loosely holding yours. With a gentle tug, he pulls you back into his arms as the song ends, and your eyes once again find his desire burning just under the surface. 

Seungcheol smiles, his teeth slowly sliding from his bottom lip as he shakes his head, trying to keep himself in check as you look at him like that. You listen to his gentle sigh as you feel his fingers work the zipper of your dress down your back. The weight of the material causes your dress to slide forward on your shoulders when Seungcheol takes a step back from you to press his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today? How much I love you in this dress?” 

Watching you smile, your head tilting, Seungcheol trails his fingers back up your arms to where your dress was precariously resting on your shoulders. With a gentle brush of his fingers, your dress falls to the floor, a discarded pile at your feet as his eyes move over your body. 

“But I love this even more. Shit, baby…” 

Seungcheol groans, moving his hands to your waist before scratching his nails lightly down to your hips to rest his palms over the burgundy lace that covered your body. You were driving him crazy, his cock now throbbing hard in his pants as Seungcheol’s eyes dilated, looking at you in the bodysuit. 

“Do you like it?”

Letting out a breath at your question, Seungcheol shakes his head, trying to come up with the right words, before just taking a step back and lifting his hand to rub his palm over his mouth in awe. Watching you turn in front of him, showing him every angle, your boyfriend can only scoff as you let out a playful laugh, lowering your lashes when you face him once again. That was the last straw. 

“Don’t ask silly questions, sweetheart.” 

You start to defend yourself when you find yourself lifted off your feet. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, you smile against Seungcheol’s lips as he groans to the feeling of your body flush with his as he starts the walk towards the bedroom. 

“I remember how to walk, Cheol.” 

“I don’t give a fuck." Your back hits the bed, and you feel the breath get knocked out of your lungs as Seungcheol looks down at you from the side of the bed like you were something to eat. “I wanted you here at my pace." 

Seungcheol grins as your teeth catch your red lips, pulling at them as you try to hide how much you like his words. He knew how much you liked him manhandling you and how much you were going to like everything that was going to happen to you. 

“Mm, I’m here. What are you going to do with me now, sir?" 

Fuck, you were trying to kill him. Shaking his head, Seungcheol chuckles as you tease him with not only your words but also your toes running along the inseam of his dress pants. He groans as you bite your lips, working your foot all that much closer towards his leaking cock, still trapped behind layers of clothing. 

“Exactly what you asked me for in the kitchen, darling.”

Watching Seungcheol’s hands move along his torso to undo his shirt, you laugh quietly at his words, knowing he would keep his promise. Your eyes follow his every move just as they do when your back arches and your legs cross, allowing you to press your thighs together, giving you some much needed relief from the arousal soaking into the lace barely covering your pussy. 

Clothes hit the floor in different corners until Seungcheol finally lets out a breath of relief, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking himself slowly. With his free hand, he pries your legs open, only to then bring down his palm hard on your inner thigh, granting himself a half moan, half whine from your pretty lips to the pleasurable sting. 

“Keep your legs open. With how you are acting, I might as well have let you grind on a pillow while I was getting undressed, princess. Are you that fucking needy?” 

You can only furrow your brows and nod, your fingers running along the lace covering your breasts and stomach as Seungcheol’s hands press into your thighs and trace your curves along your hips to your ass and back to your thighs once again. 

“Dying to be touched that badly? Are you ruining your present for me? I liked this piece of lingerie, but I’m more than willing," You whined, hearing and feeling the sound of lace ripping at your hips as Seungcheol’s fingers dug into the delicate material. “To replace it. I’m not, however, patient enough to fucking figure out how to get you out of it. I’d rather fuck you while you are in it.” 

Lifting your hips, your eyes move down to where Seungcheol’s fingers slide under the torn lace. You watch as he smirks, digging his fingers into the burgundy material, watching how easily it gives way to his strength before he moves his fingers to the center of your legs, running two fingers over the wet patch that had grown exponentially with his actions. 

“You like that idea, don’t you, my pretty little slut?” 

Seungcheol watches you lick your lips before you nod and rock your hips against his fingers. He knew you like the back of his hand. 

“Yes…fuck. Please, Cheol? I don’t want to wait anymore. I’ve wanted you all day long.” 

You were so greedy, and he loved that about you. He was just as greedy, if not more. Grinning, Seungcheol leans down to run his tongue along the lace as he hooks a finger under it. Soon, your whines turn into full blown moans as Seungcheol runs his knuckle along your folds before circling your leaking entrance slowly with his index finger. 

Pushing into your soft, tight walls, Seungcheol groans against the wet lace, furrowing his brows. You were addictive, from your sounds to your taste. He knew you didn’t want to wait, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He could feel you squeezing around his finger like a vice, and that already had his cock twitching against your thigh at the thought of being inside of you. 

“Please….just —” 

You let out a soft, breathy whine as Seungcheol kisses your thigh, sliding a second finger into you beside his first. You wanted to complain that it wasn’t his cock, but when he rolls his fingers back towards the top of your pussy with perfect precision, the words leave your mind as quickly as they had entered them. 

Seungcheol grunts, running his lips against your soft skin, feeling your slick arousal coating his fingers. He wanted to get his tongue on you. He wanted this lace out of his way, but at the same time, he didn’t want it off of you. Seungcheol hadn’t been lying about wanting to fuck you in it, so there was only one thing to be done. 

“Cheol!” 

A smirk causes Seungcheol’s lips to pull up to one side when you yell his name, feeling your lingerie give way between your legs as he uses his fingers to rip the lace apart. With nothing in his way, Seungcheol slides his fingers back into your warm pussy and runs his tongue between your folds, groaning as he circles the tip around your clit, feeling you buck your hips up against his mouth. 

You feel your stomach tightening as your orgasm starts to take over quickly with Seungcheol’s relentless actions, but it isn’t until a third finger is carefully worked in with the others that you fall over the edge. Your head thrown back against the bedding, you lace your fingers into Seungcheol’s hair, moaning his name as you cum around his fingers, feeling him smile against your folds. 

“Mm…fuck.” 

His words are muffled against your pussy as Seungcheol lets his fingers carefully slip from you, and his tongue replaces them in order to collect as much of your cum as possible. Only when your thighs shake around his head and you whimper his name, begging for him to give you a break, does Seungcheol move his mouth from between your legs, opting to press soft, wet kisses to your thighs. 

“You are trying to kill me.” 

Lips once again, pulling up at your words, Seungcheol shakes his head, nipping at your thigh, causing you to whine at feeling overstimulated once again, tugging at his hair to make him stop. 

“I’m not. I just like watching you tremble like that. You are so fucking pretty. You taste so good. I could eat you out all day long.” 

You wanted to reiterate your words after hearing his. It felt like he was trying to kill you as you felt Seungcheol’s hands sliding along your legs and up your sides as he moved between your legs to lay over you. You found yourself pouting only to hear him chuckle and to feel Seungcheol’s lips press against yours to soften the pout before the kiss turned into something much deeper and filled with longing. 

Seungcheol’s fingers press into your side next to your breast before he groans against your lips, rolling his hips to meet yours and feeling your wet folds against his aching cock. You were warm and wet, and if anyone felt like they were dying right now, it was him. He wanted to give you time to calm down after your first orgasm, but he was also aching to be inside of you after prepping you. 

“Mm, baby, you feel so good. I just…fuck.” 

You could hear the strain in his voice as you felt him rutting between your legs. Your thighs were still trembling; all you could manage were soft moans and begs against Seungcheol’s lips for him to get inside of you. At first, you aren’t sure he understands you until you feel the head of his cock press into you, and his hips slowly move to meet yours. 

The stretch, even after all of his prep, is intense. Seungcheol is a large man, from his arms to his chest and all the way to his cock, now buried inside of you as he stays still for a moment, waiting for you to adjust. Eyes locked on your face, Seungcheol takes a deep breath, feeling your walls tighten around him, causing his head to spin before you take a breath of your own and whisper his name. 

“Pl—please…need it. I want you to. You feel so good, baby. You are so big, Cheol.” 

Everything you said was bad for Seungcheol’s ego. You were always making him feel like he was the most important thing in the world and in the bedroom like he was the only man you would ever need again in your life. That was all he needed and wanted. He wanted you ruined for anyone else. He wanted to leave an imprint of himself inside of you so that you would never forget that you were his, and if you needed a reminder, he would be there every single day of your life to give it to you. 

Lips brushing against your ear, Seungcheol groans your name like a prayer. His pace quickens as he buries his cock deep inside of you. Pulling your leg up to his hip, he hisses at the feeling of your nails scratching at his biceps before thrusting hard, making you cry out in pleasure. 

“Put your leg around me, baby. I want you to cum on my cock.” You nod, letting him help you wrap your leg around his hip so that your foot rests on the top of his ass, the new angle causing you to see stars along with his words. “I fucking love the feeling of your cum on my dick, baby. Give it to me." 

Between Seungcheol’s words and the way his cock was dragging along your walls, you didn’t stand a chance of lasting much longer. The coil winding tighter and tighter snaps as Seungcheol’s teeth rake along the side of your neck, and you see white. 

With your walls gripping his cock like a vice, Seungcheol groans against your neck, his breath caught in his throat as he feels your cum coat his length with every deep thrust into your heavenly pussy. Holding your thigh tightly, Seungcheol leans back to look down at you as he starts to chase his own high. 

"God, I’m so close. Wanna leave you full of me...dripping, so I can fuck it back into you.” 

Your cheeks burn at Seungcheol’s dirty mouth, and your eyes close, causing him to chuckle before you hear his pleasured groan, knowing he truly is getting close. You could feel him getting closer. All the signs that you had grown to know over your time with him were the same. The way he would pull you closer, his hand almost bruising your skin, his hot breath on your jaw, and the way he would bury himself as deep as possible inside of you, intent on filling you fully. 

Seungcheol’s choked groans fill your ears as he falls over the edge. His warm cum spilled into you, only to be fucked back into you with deep, smooth thrusts. Catching his breath, Seungcheol smiles as he feels cum begin to seep from you and between your thighs, knowing he had done exactly what he had promised. 

Leaning back on his hand, Seungcheol groans. He helps you rest your leg back on the bed and off to the side as he continues to slowly push the mixture of his cum and yours back into your tender pussy. He could feel himself softening and how he was overstimulating himself, but it was worth it to hear your soft whimpers and to watch the cum drip from you and around his cock as you ran your fingers between your folds and through the sticky mess, much to his delight. 

“Shit…yes. Does that feel good, baby? You gonna give me one more? Use that cum to get off around me one more time tonight." 

Meeting your eyes, Seungcheol nods along with you as you roll your hips over his cock and your fingers, letting yourself cum one last time. Your eyes closing, and you let out a soft breath and whispered his name as your boyfriend slipped from you with a soft groan. You feel his plush, perfect lips work from your jaw to your lips before the bed feels suddenly empty for a few moments. 

Exhaustion keeps you from searching for Seungcheol as he sits on the edge of the tub, running his fingers under the taps, letting the water come to the perfect temperature. Leaning towards the door every few seconds, he checks to make sure you haven’t moved, only to smile at seeing you breathing softly, your eyes still closed as you rest, waiting for him. 

After a few minutes, you feel your lips once again press against yours, bringing you back to reality as Seungcheol’s arm moves under your back and the other under your legs. He simply grins against your cheek, hearing your soft mutters of how you could walk before he sits you on the toilet and runs his fingers over your hair, watching you finally open your eyes to look up at him. 

“Hi…” 

“Hi yourself. I ran a bath and brought the rest of our wine in here. Does that sound good?” 

Nodding, you smile, causing him to do the same. You let him help you back to your feet once you were ready. Holding on to your arms, Seungcheol helps you into the bath before sliding in behind you and letting you rest your back on his chest, his fingers running along the stem of a wine glass, the other hand resting on your stomach. 

You can’t help but smile as you bring your wine to your lips, taking a sip of the sweet wine before leaning your head back against his shoulder and feeling his lips press to the side of your head. You were exhausted, but this had been the perfect Valentine’s day. Seungcheol was the perfect Valentine, and he was your forever Valentine. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

Seungcheol’s lips against your ear; his words cause your skin to erupt with chill bumps and for you to laugh into your words as you turn to meet his lips speaking against his. 

“I love you too, Cheol. Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.” 

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

[jenctrl]

black cat & golden retriever*ೃ༄

"the black cat and golden retriever duo of le sserafim i.e the asocial & social, hot & cold, sun & moon, day & night."

warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order!

a/n: this is reuploaded onto this new acc from an old one

“You’re up.” 

“Yeah,” was all that Yunjin got in response, barely catching it as she sat on the couch and Y/n passed to get to the open kitchen. 

She turned around, leaning her arms on the backrest of the couch to look at the feline who grabbed a glass of water. It was one of those rare days when they had their day off and Yunjin had been lying around waiting for Y/n since 10 A.M.; it was 1 P.M. when the girl finally woke up. 

When Yunjin woke up and realised that it was a free day, her mind started swirling with things she could do and each thought contained the girl who wasn’t paying her any mind at the moment. It wasn’t anything Yunjin minded; Y/n had always been quiet, the quietest member of the group and she could still remember their first encounter. 

They had come a long way; a very long way. 

“Well, I was thinking–” She started and automatically got up from the couch as her feet led her towards Y/n. It was like she was being pulled by a magnet. “Since it’s a day off we could go out, there’s this café, I know you like to…” The words were flowing out of Yunjin’s mouth without a break as she walked to where Y/n was drinking water.

“So, we could leave at like 40? I’m all ready to go.” She concluded and leaned against the counter to look at Y/n who had yet to put down the glass.

Y/n removed the empty glass from her lips that she licked after, putting it on the counter. It seemed like Yunjin had planned a whole day for them already and it made the feline look over at the canine who was looking at her; expectantly as she waited for a yes.

“When did I say I was planning on spending the day with you?” 

“I–Y/n!” Yunjin complained as her lower lip jutted out, but to no avail, as Y/n had already turned away and was walking back towards her room. 

“Yes?”

“Please?” She pleaded, chasing right after the girl who sighed as she opened her door and stepped inside the room.

Y/n turned to look at Yunjin who was still waiting for her, she looked lost as if she wouldn’t know what to do with herself unless Y/n told her what to do. 

It kind of was that way. 

“I’m not going to the café or any of the other things you mentioned, Yunjin.” The thought of going out and being among all those people made Y/n want to go right back to bed and continue sleeping. She already did enough of that when she had work, the last thing she would want to do on a free day was be in crowded places. 

“I’m heading to the park,” Y/n stated as Yunjin looked like she was about to start whining.

“Okay! I will go get my stuff right now. I will come with you.” She happily replied.

“No.” 

“That’s a yes,” Yunjin called out as she was on her way to get her stuff, knowing that a lot of the time Y/n meant the opposite of what she said.

There was no way Y/n would say that she didn’t mind Yunjin tagging along despite loving her alone time and originally having her day planned with no one else in the picture. There was always an exception for Yunjin. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There were times when Y/n wondered why she became an idol to begin with. There were a lot of reasons as to why she would wonder why. One of them was the social part. Despite being in a group full of introverts, she was the one who did not enjoy being social, in other words, the girl was asocial. 

Her members enjoyed being out with or around other people, needing to only be alone to recharge–Y/n preferred solitary. 

Y/n’s social battery didn’t last long either. 

With multiple groups having their comebacks this month, she was called to the building to film challenges with different labelmates. Three different challenges to be exact and each took about 20 minutes if not less. 

To greet each other. Go over the dance. Take multiple shots and then bid goodbye. 

After an hour Y/n found herself at the Hybe roof terrace, taking a break to recharge and be able to film the ones with her members.

There was no escape though, the door opened and she ignored it as she continued to stare ahead. The best she could do was pretend she didn’t see or hear the person come out and that way she would get her peace even if the presence of someone else was annoying to her. This was the most secluded she would get at the moment.

She would probably get more–

“Y/n, I have to tell you what just happened…”

Yunjin sat down beside the girl and took out her phone as she started to explain while showing her the screen. All she got was silence, but it didn’t make her pause for a second as she talked before getting any affirmation to start. 

She glanced over at Y/n to check if she was listening as she had yet to get a response from her feline since she started going over the previous events. 

The ginger smiled to herself as the feline’s eyes were glued to her phone, seeing that Y/n was listening to her like she always did. Her full attention was on Yunjin, possibly a small smile on her lips or maybe it was the light–Y/n didn’t smile often–the girl always listened to every word she had to say no matter how small or big it was. 

It made her continue, knowing Y/n wouldn’t talk much, but Yunjin could go for hours as long as she had Y/n’s attention on her. She knew that the dark-haired girl was an amazing listener. 

Maybe Yunjin was a rare exception that made it possible for Y/n’s battery to recharge because of how comfortable she felt around her. She always gave up her alone time so Yunjin could rant to her about whatever it was that she had on her mind. Y/n simply dropped her needs and the only need was to hear what Yunjin had to say. 

No one listened to Yunjin the way Y/n would do. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Y/n was rational, she always had her thoughts collected and emotions in check. However, being approached and asked the same question every other week was infuriating even to someone like Y/n. She valued her privacy and having someone trying to invade it ticked her off.

“What’re you doing?” She huffed and glanced at Yunjin who rested her chin on her shoulder after coming up from behind her. Yunjin’s eyes fell on the girl’s phone screen and Y/n rolled her eyes at the anger that was bubbling inside her, but she always kept it on the inside.

“He sent his manager to ask for my number this time.” 

It made Yunjin furrow her eyebrows as their fellow labelmate had been trying to get Y/n’s number for quite some time now. It had never been directly in person though; Yunjin assumed it was because Y/n’s silent and mysterious nature was intimidating yet drew people in. 

“It’s infuriating because I can’t tell him off personally.” Y/n expressed and Yunjin was the quiet one this time as it wasn’t often that Y/n spoke much, so she did her best to not accidentally interrupt. She liked listening to the feline once she would start talking.

“We could maybe approach him ourselves and…” Yunjin trailed off as she looked for ideas, knowing that Y/n wasn’t one to walk up to someone to start a conversation, but this was different. She was aware that Y/n’s words had a sting on them because of her boldness and if she went alone it could cause a scandal. 

Her fingers gently twisted the sweater Y/n was wearing as she had her arms wrapped around the girl from behind. As her thoughts would run wild she still found the time to also bask in Y/n’s scent and comforting warmth. 

“We could threaten him.” “We could tell him to stop.”

Yunjin pulled away from the feline she was hugging from behind and they both turned to look at each other at the very different suggestions. The ginger scratched at her nape and despite the anger she could feel radiating from Y/n, the girl didn’t look like she was plotting murder. Y/n was always collected on the outside and it made it hard for the canine to know what went on on the inside.

She tried her best to understand though;

“Well, I don’t think we should threaten him, but if I were you, I would think so too, so I agree but we could do what I was thinking instead.” She reasoned, doing her best to see it from Y/n’s point of view, however, Yunjin was too soft to go through with it. 

“We? Wait—why are we talking we? I can handle myself, Yunjin.”

“Don’t worry, I will help.” Yunjin always stepped in to defend the girl who never needed any help defending herself however those words always fell on deaf ears. The canine defended her feline whether she wanted it or not and in the end, Y/n let her;

“I don’t want or need your—“

Y/n stopped and groaned as she ran a hand through her hair as she looked through the empty hallway she had been waiting in for Yunjin. There was no reason to argue about it when it wouldn’t change anything and she would only work herself up more and let Yunjin be a hero. 

Yunjin liked the peaceful options. Y/n didn’t lose control often, but when she did it could go overboard. The canine girl was a great source of balance in those rare moments. 

“You know what?”

“Yeah?” Yunjin piped.

“We should go to the studio.” The feline suggested at last, knowing how to control her emotions like puppet masters controlled their marionettes; some were hard, but they were caused by someone else. Those were emotions she realised couldn’t be controlled as she looked at Yunjin. 

The best option for Y/n was to always ignore her anger, bottle it up and distract herself by occupying herself with something else. It was the most rational solution at hand to the problem.

“Oh! We could work on the–”

“Yeah, let’s go now.” She dismissed the sentence knowing what Yunjin would say and grabbed the taller girl by her hoodie as she led the way. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Y/n knew just how to pass by people without them trying to stop her to greet her and talk. Considering her fame even among idols, it happened often and she knew just how to avoid it. 

The hardest sharks to avoid were the ones in the backstage waters. Groups would swarm, greet each other, film content to promote songs and catch up with friends if not make new ones. Y/n included, but just not this time.

Among a sea of faces, she would describe as dull, there would always be one person who would stand out. She’d like to call it unfortunate that she was drawn to the sun and the walk she was making to her group's green room turned into a detour towards Yunjin who was talking to someone who gave Y/n a bad feeling. 

The feline would call her canine far too naïve.

Yunjin always tried to see the good in people. 

Y/n was far more cautious and saw the bad before looking at the good. 

The feline’s logic was way too precise to ignore and so when her senses rang with bad intentions she couldn’t not intervene when Yunjin was about to exchange numbers with the guy. 

“We’re not allowed to give out our numbers,” her hand grabbed hold of Yunjin pulling back the girl’s hand that was about to give out her number. It was like a tingling of all the bad intentions coming from the male idol. As cold as Y/n could come off, she cared deeply even if she wouldn’t admit to it. 

“That’s only when managers are looking, isn’t it?” The guy asked with a chuckle, his hand about to reach out to get Yunjin’s phone who this time hid it behind her back. 

As far as Yunjin knew, Y/n was always good to listen to.

“I can call one over and you can ask again.” 

He looked between the two girls who stood with their arms linked, waiting for Yunjin to say something. The hook? Yunjin didn’t go against Y/n. First off, she wouldn’t win, second, she didn’t want to because this was the girl she would do anything for. She was nothing but a good girl to her feline. 

“Forget it.” His tone was harsh this time. 

“Didn’t plan to remember it,” Y/n replied and side-glanced at the guy who was already blinking red lights before she tugged Yunjin to walk. 

“Just because they work in the same industry doesn’t mean that they have the same good intentions as you.” She mumbled as they got away from the guy, walking towards their green room. 

“He wanted to hang out.” 

“Yunjin…” Y/n trailed off in disbelief, making the ginger stop in her steps and the feline looked at her with eyebrows raised, seeing the dots connect through Yunjin’s face.

“Okay yeah.” She nodded, seeing where it would all lead. 

Yunjin truly dodged a bullet, thanks to Y/n. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Everyone who knew Y/n knew she loved her peace, the moments where it was just her and nothing else. Silence that she filled however she preferred by either listening to music, reading, painting, or anything she liked as long as she was all by herself and not in anyone’s company.

Her room was her sanctuary, the safe space where she found herself most of the time, especially after days that could be exhausting for someone who was asocial. The members all knew it, respecting boundaries they never found themselves knocking on the girl’s door or entering her room unless it was important or Y/n asked for them–vice-versa.

There was almost nothing better than closing off and being all alone at the end of the day before heading to bed.

However, there was still one person who often did knock on Y/n’s door before slowly opening it. That one person who always seemed to be around her, suffocating her, but somehow oxygen seemed to be the last thing on Y/n’s mind whenever the sun appeared before the moon. 

She looked up from the book in her hold, the room illustrated by the orangish light from the side lamp on the night table. The same head as usual peeked inside with a bright smile no matter the time. Y/n sported her neutral stoic expression as Yunjin licked her lips and smiled even bigger when Y/n looked at her. 

Unlike Y/n, Yunjin loved nothing more than spending the last hours before a new day with someone close to her, someone she cared for and wanted to be around every second of the day one way or another. That someone was Y/n who was staring at her in dead silence without any muscles on her face moving. 

Most people would turn around and close the door at the intimidating look that was always on Y/n’s face.

Not Yunjin!

“Do you perhaps want to watch The Real Housewives of New York City?” 

No one would ever believe that Y/n watched some silly reality show; it was far from how she appeared. 

Yunjin looked away, half of her head disappeared for a second as she shuffled on the other side with the sound of rustling before she appeared fully again. The feline in the bed was yet to answer her, the door got pushed open fully with a thud, making her sigh and Yunjin stepped inside. 

“I got your favourite snacks too.”

Aside from showing the plastic bag that she had to offer with her laptop under her arm, she offered her feline a smile once again. 

There was almost nothing better than closing off and being all alone at the end of the day before heading to bed. Almost.

Y/n didn’t answer, instead, she sighed again but with a roll of her eyes. Yunjin could start bouncing off the walls when the girl closed her book. The ginger pushed the door closed while Y/n bit back a smile while putting away the book on the nightstand as all her attention would be on the canine as always. 

The double-sized bed dipped before Y/n could finish putting away her stuff, making her click her tongue; Yunjin’s eagerness was evident despite the late hours of night slowly approaching. 

“I was thinking–” The older started as she made it to her spot on Y/n’s bed as the feline moved to the side by the wall. 

“Ask me tomorrow.” It wasn’t hard for Y/n to read her fellow member who jutted out her lower lip while opening the laptop. Yunjin was always thinking and they would never get to watching if she wouldn’t stop her every once in a while. 

She compensated by always listening any other time. 

“Okay…” She agreed either way, getting a hum of acknowledgement and she glanced over at Y/n who was busy with rummaging through the snacks. 

With that she got the show running on the laptop, turning off the side lamp before she leaned back against the headboard. Something was missing as Yunjin fiddled with the duvet that was draped over her legs. Her eyes darted to Y/n who was half lying down, chewing on one of the jellies in her mouth. 

Y/n inhaled deeply, feeling Yunjin’s gaze on her and she knew what type of eyes she would encounter if she looked at the girl beside her. It didn’t matter if she looked or not, Y/n didn’t need a pair of puppy eyes to get convinced.

No matter how many times Yunjin would wrap her arms around her throughout the day it was different during these moments.

“Yunjin–” She called out for the girl, still looking at the laptop that played their show. 

“Yeah?” Y/n got a reply in an instant before she could fully finish Yunjin’s name. 

“Lie down or leave.” 

She happily obliged knowing that Y/n’s way of showing affection was different regarding words. It was still all warm even if Y/n came with a bite of frost that a certain sun melted. 

Yunjin slowly lay down, the intimidating girl who shook hands with claws and smiled with a hiss was like a cosy ball of fur; Yunjin loved being the small spoon. She rested her head right under Y/n’s chin, her hands mindlessly playing with the girl’s hoodie while her back was rubbed as Y/n hugged her. 

Y/n released a breath, relaxing her body as she let go of everything else on her mind because she could allow everything to wash away when Yunjin was around. The girl could be herself even if she felt like she was a difficult person, but Yunjin didn’t seem to mind. A gentle smile appeared on her lips as she rested her chin against Yunjin’s head, agreeing to feed the girl gummies.

Almost;

Because at the end of each day, the black cat loved having her golden retriever right beside her.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[nervoussagittarius]

self control

chris sturniolo x reader

summary: two best friends who have been flirting for years finally confess their feelings for one another, request

warnings: fluffy, short little cute moment

chris has been trying to hide it for years. four years to be exact. he refuses to admit it but he’s completely infatuated with you. even though you have been in and out of multiple relationships, chris is holding on for the day he can call you his.

you’ve spent your day with the triplets and are currently getting ready to film a night vlog with them. this isn’t an unusual situation. you often filmed with the boys and appeared in different projects of theirs. you loved it. although you could never give up your job and do it on your own, you enjoyed being included.

chris was currently stood behind you resting his hands on your shoulders as you watched nick start up the camera. you reached your hands back to intertwine your fingers and leaned you head back to lean on chris.

you were both very touchy people so this was no rare occurrence for you two. nick began to intro the video not giving you two time to release eachother. “hey guys welcome to todays vlog. we’re just gonna film our night because we forgot to film the rest of our day so you’ll see what we do tomorrow as well.” you let out a laugh as nick panned to you and chris.

“what are your guys plans for the night?” nick asked. you moved to sit in the counter as you wrapped your arms around chris’s shoulders from behind. “we’ll y/n doesn’t know this but she’s spending the night with me and we’re watching all of the spider-man movies.” he looked over his shoulder at you. “is this your ploy to get me in your bed?” you asked raising your eyebrows. chris looked at the camera and signaled for nick to come in closer before whispering “she wasn’t supposed to figure that one out.”

you jokingly pushed chris away as you hopped off the counter. you felt his eyes on you as you left the room.

later in the evening as you all were sat in the living room watching old videos of the triplets together, nick pulled out the camera again to film you all.

as nick adjusted the settings you all were sitting in a brief scilence, which chris couldn’t handle. he turned to you as you were looking down at your phone. “who’s your celebrity crush?” he asked as he tilted your head up to look at him. “ya know i’m kinda a celebrity so it’s basically me right.”

“sorry to break it to you babe but it’s actually ross lynch.” you said with a shrug. “what are you talking about dude. it’s definitely me. but i could learn how to play the guitar if you really wanted.” he said giving you a wink.

“yeah but have you seen him? he’s like a quadruple threat. he sings, dances, acts, and plays multiple instruments.” you continued. chris rolled his eyes at you and nonchalantly moved away from you on the couch. the spot where he was laying in you becoming cold. “i could definitely do all of that.” chris mumbled.

the rest of the night chris was distant. he didn’t want to admit it but he was jealous that you spoke so highly of this guy you’ve never met. you noticed his change of attitude towards you and it eventually started to hurt your feelings. he was pulling away from your touch and not responding to your jokes and comments towards him.

you became tired of the way chris was treating you so that night when you made it to his room you spoke up about it. “did i do something to upset you? ‘cause if i did i’m sorry and i didn’t mean it.” you slowly climbed onto chris’s bed and watched as he turned his back to you. “i really don’t want to talk about it. it’s fine.” he is tried to act unbothered but you could read him like a book.

“i know something wrong can you please talk to me.” there was silence and a deep sigh from chris. almost five minutes went by before chris started talking. the way he shot up and almost exclaimed startled you. “i just don’t understand how you talk so highly of these people that you let treat you so horribly.” you were stunned by his statement. you didn’t know how to respond to that.

“wh-what?” “you talk so highly about your exes or random people that you don’t know when they treat you like shit. i would treat you so well if you gave me the chance but your so hung up on these people that mean nothing instead. i’m so obsessed with you it’s not funny. i love being around you and i love hearing about your day but you don’t see that. i just want you to see that.” chris’s tangent got quieter as he finished his thoughts. you were at a loss for words.

“i don’t know if it’s because im exhausted or because im just in shock at what you’re saying, but im so confused.” you were looking at chris like he had three heads. you didn’t know what was going on or how you got here, but you weren’t necessarily mad about it.

“y/n. i think im in love with you.” chris said taking your hand in his. “all jokes and flirting aside i really really like you. and i hate that you don’t see that. i understand and if you don’t feel the same way but i can’t keep flirting with you like i don’t mean every word im saying to you.”

“im in love with you two, chris.” you said as you rested his free hand on his cheek and leaned your forehead in his.

[winstonsns]

this is gonna sound Rlly funny/ridiculous, but... Gang w reader from 2024??? Somehow????? LMAO. i jus thought itd b funny. LOLOL

the gang with 2024!reader (request)

authors note: sorry i’m doing requests late! i have many requests and i’ve been busy. also i have 100 followers!! this post is gonna have a lot of brainrot words so sorry about that LMAO. sorry this post is really short again!! i hope you enjoy!! 💗

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 1.9k

warnings: cussing, brainrot slang, alcohol, slightly suggestive but as a joke

PONYBOY CURTIS

you and ponyboy were in his room, reading stupidly romantic books as a joke

the two of you were close to tears due to laughing, both of your stomachs hurting because the book was so cringey

“oh my god! this reminds me of this one tiktok, so this girl was like ‘i think i made the new booktok anthem—‘ wait i told you about booktok, right?” you paused after talking

“yes, yes, very weird. continue on!” your boyfriend said, smiling widely at you

“so basically, the girl was singing, ‘i’m looking for a new book boyfriend. billionaire. six five, brown eyes.’ and would go on and on with the song!! literally everyone made fun of her and she responded to a hate comment, but then a comment on that video was like ‘we love an unbothered queen!!’” laughing at the end of what you said, ponyboy hunching over, dropping the book and wheezing

since he’s a teenage boy, he picked up on your vocabulary very quickly, using words like ‘sigma’ ‘grimace shake’ ‘gyatt’ (but only to you) ‘rizz’ etc

once he was saying those words too much and his brother, darry, got annoyed and said, “pony… just, stop saying those words. please, i’m getting a headache.”

your boyfriend responded with, “you’re such a beta, can’t handle a sigma rizzler like me.” a proud look on his face, darry sighing and walking to a different room

ponyboy thinks you’re the funniest person ever and even started using your vocab when talking to others or about something, and people would stare at him weirdly because they didn’t know what he was talking about, or what the words meant

JOHNNY CADE

you and johnny were outside, staring at the sunset together as a date

he was in your arms, feeling protected by you, you ran your fingers through his hair while the two of you were softly talking to each other

“i love you like how baby gronk loves livvy dunne…” you said with a smile on your face, knowing he’d think it’s funny and would laugh

he let out a loud chuckle, continuing to giggle multiple seconds after

then johnny sat up next to you, saying, “look over there!!” so you gasped, looking to where he was pointing

he lightly grabbed your jaw and moved it towards his direction, giggling when the two of you were making weird faces once you saw each other

you would always tell him that from your time, people would joke and do that gesture all the time but never in a serious way

he really loved the little diy gifts you would make him, telling him you would watch tiktok’s about cute cards to give your partner or friend

along with the pink bows you would put in your hair, sometimes asking him to tie them into your hair, telling him that coquette became back in style in your time

although others would stare at you on the street because they weren’t used to your style, you could care less

he knew you were so unique and perfect, so he would try to show you as much affection as he could to make you stay

SODAPOP CURTIS

“no one can rizz me up as well as you can, sodagyatt…” talking to your boyfriend in a joking tone

“ooh… yes, pookie… talk to me like that… maybe i’ll get you a grimace shake…” he replied, smirking and leaning in for a kiss

you giggled and lightly grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss, his hands on your waist

after the two of you pulled away, you looked into each others eyes before bursting out laughing, falling onto soda and curling up into a ball, your stomach hurting

he picked up on your words very quickly, specifically using the word ‘rizz’ a lot after you told him he had a lot

he began to call his brother, ponyboy, ‘ponygyatt’ because he thought it was funny

whenever one of his brothers did something embarrassing, he would tell them “your aura is decreasing. minus seven hundred points, darry.”

but he absolutely loved your sense of style, the way you would dress because it was from your time, but from his time, everyone wore denim and flannels

DARRY CURTIS

darry, your boyfriend, was baking a chocolate cake for you and his brothers

he was measuring the flour and cocoa powder, pouring them into the bowl

his back was facing you, your jaw dropped and eyes widened, you had a wonderful idea, and went through with it

“GYATTTTTT” you yelled, and spanked your boyfriend hard, on the ass

he yelped and you ran to the other room, him chasing after you, he caught up to you and grabbed you, spanking you too while you laughed

the two of you were out of breath, so you went back to talking like nothing happened, and darry wondered ‘how does she always manage to act like nothing happened..’ but in a funny way

so both of you waked back to the kitchen, going back to work on the chocolate cake dry ingredients

he never really picked up on the slang you used, him being an adult so he never cared much to use those words

plus he had a reputation to keep up, so he didn’t want to use those words but thought when you used them, they were funny

but you made his brothers laugh, and he really appreciated that

when you would help ponyboy with his homework if darry didn’t have the time, if you were confused, you would say something like “what the sigma is this bro!?”

DALLAS WINSTON

you were at your house, making roses made of pages of a book for dally, your boyfriend

then you heard a loud ring, it was your phone, you wondered, ‘who would be calling at this hour? it’s like… 2am, man..”

so you lay on your bed, kicking your feet while you thought about dally, picked up your phone and asked, “y/n l/n, what do you need?”

“mmm… hey baby, uh, i’m at the station right now. do you think you could pick me up? i’m sorry if i woke you up…” your boyfriend said

you gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, kicking your feet and nearly screaming at the thought of seeing your boyfriend, even though the two of you saw each other four hours ago

“say on skibidi to prove that you’re in the station right now.” you teased, wanting him to be embarrassed

you heard a sigh from the other end of the line, dally muttered a “on skibidi..” you giggled, saying you’d pick him up

“love you dal!! i’ll be there in a few minutes, i promise.” you continued, and he responded with a “love you too, doll. look forward to seeing you.” you hung up

he loved how you would ask people weird or rude things, but they wouldn’t understand, once you asked someone “why do you act like a fucking millennial?” and dally had to pull you away, laughing quietly because you told him what a millennial was

or when you quietly said to him, “why is that guy built like a discord mod…?” except you didn’t tell him what that was, so he had a confused look on his face and asked, “what…?”

you’d ask him if you were his skibidi alpha pookie bear, he would sigh but nod his head, repeating what you just said

he thinks you’re really fucking funny though especially if you have brainrot humor, no one besides him understands you and he loves that

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

you and your boyfriend, keith, were at a store when you saw a couple making out

the girl looked young, too young, and the guy looked in his mid 30s, but they were acting very touchy and sexual

“erm, what the sigma..” you said in a certain voice, two-bit looking at you, shaking his head and sighing, trying to keep a straight face

then he couldn’t hold is any longer he chuckled and looked at where you were looking

he mumbled a “what the fuck…” squinting his eyes, blinking multiple times to see if he was seeing what he thought he was

what looked like a young girl full on making out with a guy who looked like he was in his mid 30s, you and your boyfriend looked at each other, eyes wide

then the two of you bursted out laughing, you unintentionally but loudly said, “bro is NOT a certified lover boy, certified—“ but two-bit covered your mouth, seeing the couple pass by you

once they passed and got to a certain distance, the two of you giggled to the point of your stomach hurting

when you started saying some slang from the 2000s, he picked up on it and started saying it too

when he started saying that type of slang around the gang, they had no idea what he meant and thought he was crazy

he even changed the lyrics to an elvis song into a ‘brainrot remix’ according to him

whenever he wanted to annoy someone because they wouldn’t know what he was doing or talking about, he would do a ‘shh’ motion, a finger up to his lips, then moving his finger to his jaw, tracing his jawline to his chin, which you taught him and called it mewing

he also did it when he wanted someone to be quiet, they would be confused so they would shut up

but when he picked up a bottle of alcohol, jokingly twitching and shaking, trying to act like he was tweaking, you said, “boy, it’s just alkahal!!” and he nearly dropped the bottle, chuckling loudly

STEVE RANDLE

“shh… i’m about to mew…” putting your pointer finger to your lips, moving it to your jaw, tracing down your jawline to your chin, doing the motion again but on the opposite side of your jaw

“the fuck are you talkin’ about?” a slight sense of concern in steve’s voice, people staring at the two of you as you walked down the street

he never really used the slang from your time, he thought it was funny but really stupid, so he never used it because he didn’t want to make people confused

he was a smart person, but of course people wouldn’t expect that because of the way he acted

besides that one time when he was with the gang, two-bit said something stupid, so steve said, “shut up you beta, you have a negative canthal tilt and a negative aura.”

they stared at him weirdly then all began to laugh, not knowing where he got those words from

but he loved your style, you had money but it was hard to find clothes from your time

authors note: i decided to post again because i feel bad for missing the post yesterday. i guess the one i posted at midnight counted for yesterday!! i get out of school super soon so i can post more yayyyy!!!

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (16) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ debrief ! + kimi's note

hi !

i've gotten a few asks in my inbox regarding part 16 that (i feel) lean towards negativity @ babydaddy!oc.

as much as i appreciate interactions,, it surprised me with how it (my work) was received. i understand that everyone has their own opinions, but some of the asks come off more as a vent/hateful pov,,

and listen,,, i get that this is a fanfic LOL

but the reason i'm making this a post is that, truthfully, i don't want to (individually) answer these asks. i've spent the past few days reflecting on the feedback i was given and the chapter itself... i've concluded that i’m all abt conversation (!!!) but don’t think these asks lead the ones i want to have on my blog. i also don't want to share them because i feel that these opinions undermine the experience of other readers who enjoyed and resonate with the chapter.

at the same time, i also don’t want them to go unaddressed because these are real ppl who spent time and sent thoughts in. one way or another, i believe my work resonated with u and the most i could ever really ask for as a writer is to write something that makes people feel.

so to those anons that sent in these asks, i want u to know i that i’ve let your thoughts sit with me and i think you made good points. in that same sense, i want to defend my work and explain a few things..

context:

full bbydaddy timeline (as of 16)

bbydaddy was originally meant to be a one time scenario

upon request, i extended the series multiple times

since the series extended,, in terms of plot,, i took as an opportunity to dig deeper into their dynamic (as a family, as lovers, and as individuals)

one: bbydaddy!jk and bbydaddy!oc's lore

first and foremost,,, there are no sides.

there are layers to their relationship. both characters go through and process differently. oc's experiences should not be invalidated just because her emotions are voiced 'wrong.' the career and the depth of it can and should be looked from different point of views. though i didn't write it in, i personally pictured oc to be the eldest daughter in her household. the constant need to be the best is a natural feeling for her and isn't necessarily seen as a flaw through jk's eyes. if anything, she believes in him more than he believes in himself. in her pov,, that's how she loves him. she wants more for him because she believes he deserves more and that he's worth more. it wasn't meant to be a 'greedy' attribute but i understand where it initially comes off as that.

all in all, i think this is one of my very few fics where i picked her flaws on purpose and wrote some in by accident. as a writer, i thought this brought more authenticity in her character as well as sparked the ongoing questions of; what does it really mean to love someone and how much of yourself can you give until there's nothing left? and when there's nothing left; what then? do you pick the pieces together? do you learn and move forward or do you stay where you are and feel it. feel everything and drown in it so you don't miss a thing?

i think oc's character dives into those concepts really well. initially, as i read the asks and 'reviews' on oc,, i felt bad for her (LOL) because truly... she's so misunderstood.

as for jk... i think that man is delusional to the core. but !!! that's my error. i think in the beginning,, bbydaddy jk has this... douche-ness in him that really captures and captivates their dynamic. over time, as the story goes on, you see how fragile he actually is and how pathetic he can get. him proposing to oc was 1) bad timing 2) inconsiderate since he was definitely in his own headspace for thinking and putting his feelings first 3) jus for the drama. LOL !

all in all, i don't think jk did anything wrong (neither did oc) i jus think their relationship is the sole definition of timeless but untimely.

two: asks and anons

please don’t send in asks that bring negative vibes. if u don’t like a character (it’s ok to feel frustrated and all) u can jus move on. no need to send in 'fuck her' if its not in an ironic way 😭 be mindful and remember ur manners. jus cos u’re on anon doesn’t mean u’re held any less accountable !

if u have nothing nice to say,, don’t say it at all. i may not be ur fave writer and this may not be ur fave character or fic ….

and that’s ok.

u are probably not my fave reader anyway 😝

i am not the only smau writer on this app or fic writer at that. i'd encourage u to branch out and find new writers if my characters frusterate u so much (ToT)"

i love receiving silly asks and heartfelt ones even more so when they’re abt my plot and are positive notes regarding my writing! i look forward to those because they remind me of my growth and make me feel appreciated. these fics and smau i make take time btw. like... lots! unfortunately, i'm not talented enough to wake up and write a fic all the way through the end in 1-3 sittings. i need like 5 business days to figure out which jk pic i'm using bro

anon will be turned off for my peace of mind (for now). ikkk it's annoying bc most of u guys are so kind and sweet ,, but it feels like every time i turn it back on,, ppl get ballsy and like srsly???

i am scared of balls

three: kimi's note

at the end of the day, i’m jus a girl writing a silly little story in her free time!

did u catch that? in my free time. the time i put into sitting down, writing, fixing and pacing plots, etc; are all unpaid. i do this because i want to share my creativity and delusions. with that, as a fic writer, i understand and have accepted that there are times when i should feed into the audience/readers' expectations and needs...

and that’s exactly it.

i get to pick and choose what to feed into, what i give out, and what i keep.

with being on tumblr for 4yrs, i've seen so many fic writers leave bitter notes because of how nasty their asks inbox gets. (thankfully, mine is nothing like that) i will not let my inbox become that. i refuse to let my blog and fics burn me out.

i’ve grown so much as a writer over the years. i'm so proud of myself too. yet, i am aware and understand that i am still continuing to learn abt what boundaries i need/have when it comes to my work. i am learning what that means with my social media presence. i am learning how to not let passive/negative asks bother me. i am learning.

if u've been following me long enough, u know how often i take breaks to take care of my mental health, school/work schedule, and maintain/improve my quality of fics.

to be honest, i was really hurt and discouraged when anons gave their 2 cents with my break idea. i posted that to communicate where my headspace was and to have received entitled and inconsiderate responses really threw me off. although, i understand it may not be that serious to the ones that sent it in and i (probably am) overreacting,, i would still like to put it out in the universe that i am not okay with receiving responses like those. please think before you send in. some things are better left unsaid and often unnecessary as it makes me feel like i'm jus a content machine or smt.

and in case u forgot— 

i am a real human with feelings (sometimes with too many).

i'm thankful to have realized and accepted my (known) boundaries. i'm grateful for the confidence and security i have with my wonderful readers and work, knowing that i'm worth the wait.

i know i can and will be taking all the breaks i want. i will binge/content dump all i want. i will take 2 weeks if i want.

through all of this,, i promise to do my best and be better in the future !

if u read everything,, thank u. i wanted to say everything from a place of love and reflection,, so i appreciate u taking the time to understand me. i hope i continue to be a writer u look forward to.

promise ! i'll make u proud ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

all the love,

kimi ♡

[haoboutyou]

foolish one (stop checking your mailbox) | joshua hong

fluff, slightly suggestive | 1154 words | some cursing

a/n: wifey @bluehoodiewoozi: "if you write me an encouraging boyfriend shua x burnt out uni student y/n fic, i'll be the happiest woman on earth" except I wrote none of that :D

The university has dedicated study rooms all around campus, providing a conducive space for students to catch up on their coursework, computer work, or reading. It’s a great place to comfortably work on thesis papers without the stuffy silence of the library, or the rowdiness of the campus courtyard. It is not, unfortunately, a good place to audibly express disappointment every 10 minutes.

Joshua can’t take it anymore. How many times does he have to watch you check your phone whenever a notification pops up, how many times does that hopeful look on your face morph into disappointment when it was just another push-ad from a shopping app? 

He’s just about had it when you let out an audible sigh for the nth time, once again disrupting your supposedly productive study session. And so he bites the bullet, hoping that whatever it is that is distracting you from completing that dreaded thesis is worth all the sighing for.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Huh?” You look up from the laptop, annoyed that he distracted you just as you were about to concentrate.

Right on cue your phone lights up. He snatches the phone faster than you could reach for– it prompts a disgruntled “Shua no!” out of you. Joshua gives the notification a once over before he places the phone screen-up, crossing his arms. 

“You can’t possibly be waiting for–” He squints at the screen, reading out the pop-up banner. “ ‘60% off your next coffee’– Oh… That’s a really good deal.” He looks back up at you, watching as you sink back into your seat at the announcement. “Anyways, you’re clearly not waiting for the coffee. Spill.”

A minute of silence passes as Joshua watches you gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing but unable to find the right words to convey your current dilemma.

“...It’s Lucas–“ 

“You’re still talking to him?!” His disrupted yell earns him multiple death stares from others in the study room. 

You wince at his outburst, but you know it comes from a good place. Lucas, despite being known as the worst frat boy to come out of this university, is also the smoothest talker; somehow, he manages to get every girl on campus swooning at his feet. Joshua personally thinks he’s just a load of bullshit, that you could do better than that walking STD stick. Still,  he sighs when he sees your downcast look, staring blankly ahead at your dimmed laptop screen. 

“Y/n, he’s a player. You got a taste of his dick once and it was good, sure, but you didn’t mean anything to him. I’m serious!”

You hate the connotation that came with his words– it felt like he was calling you a whore. Your brows furrow deeper. You know he didn’t mean to, but it still sounds like that, and it still hurts. 

He realises his mistake almost immediately because as soon as those words come out, he backpedals on them so fast.

“No wait, I– I didn’t mean–” He’s instantly shut down by you, cutting through him like a knife.

You avoid looking straight into Joshua’s eyes, fighting the magnetic pull towards his chocolate eyes. Your next words are soft enough that he has to strain his ears to pick them up. “He isn’t like that though. He said what we had was different! He said I was special, that–“

“That no other girl could compare to you? Y/n, he says that to everyone!” Joshua’s exasperated. His heart breaks a little when he spots how glassy your eyes have become, but he presses on, wanting to tell you the hard truth. “Do you know what he does back at the frat house? He marches around, boasting about how many he’s slept with and what they’re like in bed. He shares those stories like some kind of sick trophy. He’s a disgusting, sorry excuse of a man!” 

Joshua leans forward across the table, engulfing your small hands with his. He rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs, trying to comfort you when notices silent tears running down your face.

“No…” You hiccup, trying to get your words across your sniffles. “I swear, I can change him!” Even you know how ridiculous you sound; there's no changing a fratboy so set in his ways like Lucas. You slump over your laptop, begrudgingly wallowing over your words. You sigh. It’s impossible. You’re just a hopeless romantic chasing after the affections of a man who gave you an ounce of attention.

“I really thought he was gonna be the one, Shua.”

 “There, there. You could do so much better and you know it. Don’t be so foolish!”

“Like who?!” You can’t help but snap at him. You’re desperate, of course; trying to shield your already humiliated and broken heart from his harsh (albeit truthful) words.

His voice drops to a whisper. 

“Like me?”

His grip on you hardens. There’s determination and endearment directed straight at you, that you’ve never noticed before, pouring through his eyes. He gulps; his biggest secret is out. The long-time crush he’s been harbouring on you is now public– to you, at least.

“I can treat you better.” He reaches out to wipe a tear from your cheek, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

You sigh. You’re doing a lot of that today; it's becoming a bit pathetic. “Shua, I'm not in the mood for you joking–”

“I’m not! Hell, I’m already letting you wear my jacket!” He tries to be serious, gesturing to the oversized jacket he lent you earlier, that envelops you around your shoulders. 

He heaves a sigh of relief when you let out a chuckle. His large hands find yours again. You feel yourself calming down, but your cheeks still heat up from his sudden proximity. 

You cock your head to the side. “Why didn’t you say anything before? I mean–” You gesture to the space between you. “Before all this?”

“Because you looked so happy, and I was afraid of ruining it all.” A shy smile graces his face. “Let me make up for it, please?”

You hold your stare, making him wait in anticipation. Finally, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you reply. 

“Buy me lunch, and I’ll think about it.”

“Lunch? Yeah, I can do that.” He can’t help but full-on grin at you. Standing up to gather his things, he extends a hand to pull you up. Ever the gentleman, you think. 

“Lucas was pretty good in bed though. Think you can one-up that?” You joke.

Joshua pulls you into his chest, one arm wrapping around you while the other picks up your bag. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you an even better time later.” 

“Later…?” Your voice trails as you let him whisk you away for lunch. He wiggles his brows at you, mischievous demeanour unveiling. 

And so, your thesis remains incomplete yet another day.

[ujimoo]

SMITTEN - Part Six

summary | Jisung never knew the best thing that could happen to him would come from annoying his best friends.

pairing | han jisung x reader

a.n | sorry there isn’t a read more section. i’m on my phone and unable to add one! will try and add one when i can. Also a big thanks again to @awooghan for being my go to for edits/running ideas by and all round bestie!<3

a.a.n | not completely edited, sorry for any silly mistakes!

—

You stare at yourself in the mirror, smoothing out the outfit you had just put on. When your eye catches the several other discarded clothes tossed onto your bed, you let out a deep sigh.

You’re blaming the weather for your multiple outfit changes. It’s hard to look cute when you don’t know if it’ll rain today. This has nothing at all to do with your date– fake date with Jisung.

Why would you be worried? He’s just a client, not to mention Hyunjin and Felix’s best friend. And it wasn’t like that was the weirdest way someone has asked to schedule a date…

Shivering at the thought, you slip on your trainers and grab your bag before heading out into the hallway.

The door to the living room is wide open with Lily and Rose lounging across the couch. Hearing the voice of a familiar actor, you stand at the doorway and gasp offendedly when you see what they’re watching.

“What the hell?!”

Both Lily and Rose look over and shrug.

A pout forms on your lips and you cross your arms across your chest. “We’re meant to be watching this together, assholes.”

“Thirst waits for no woman,” Lily laughs to herself, sinking further down into the sofa.

“Then get a drink,” you retort, rolling your eyes.

“Shh.” Rose holds a finger up to you. “Don’t you have a date to get to?”

“He’s a client.”

“One that you should be getting to, you’re going to be late.”

Quickly checking your watch, you curse to yourself before rushing to the door.

“Have fun!” Lily and Rose call out.

Before closing it completely, you stick your head back through the small gap, yelling out, “Don’t you dare watch more without me!”

—

Jisung stares at his shoes as he waits for you to show up. He digs one foot into the grass, twisting it back and forth until he realises he’s just making his shoe dirty. The pure white sole of his Converse would be tainted, and render the thirty minutes he took scrubbing them the other day useless. And these are his good pair, too! He can’t have you catching him dead in dirty shoes, especially his favourite ones.

He instead opts to bounce his leg up and down as he watches a couple snuggle under a tree. Maybe he shouldn’t have come twenty minutes early, but he’s just too excited. How can he not when he has your undivided attention for almost two hours? Maybe you two could be cuddling somewhere— Jisung stops his thoughts short. He can’t jump too far ahead, after all. It’s only the first date— fake date.

Looking down at his outfit, he sighs. He told you when you messaged him yesterday to keep it casual. However, looking at himself now, maybe he went a completely different direction. A white buttoned-up shirt, dark skinny jeans and a pair of sunglasses on his head? He felt like a 70s biker guy straight from Grease… and a foolish one, at that.

He didn’t change that many times. It was no more than three, if you don’t count the number of times he changed just the pants alone. It’s just nothing felt impressive enough, it was your first date– fake date of four. Jisung was on a time limit, he had to woo you and he’s willing to do what it takes.

He looks up when he hears footsteps rushing towards him. You have your bag thrown over your shoulder and your hair is blowing behind you as you run to him.

Jisung can’t help it when his face turns red, a small dopey smile taking control of his lips.

When you stop in front of him, you’re basically dry-heaving for air. Leaning forward, one hand resting on your knee and holding the other up. While at the same time trying not to mentally curse yourself out for how un-cute you feel at that moment.

“Gimme,” you gasp. “One second.”

Chuckling, Jisung nods, and the dopey smile stays on his lips. “It’s fine, don’t worry, take your time.”

You run a hand through your hair to try and tame it. You stand back up straight, matching Jisung’s smile when you notice it.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I promise next time I won’t be.”

“You’re fine,” Jisung affirms. “You’re right on time.”

You don’t need to say anything else, but the look in your eyes is enough for Jisung to tell that you’re thankful. It was only a simple response, but it was enough to bring comfort to you.

“So…” you begin, mindlessly fiddling at the strap on your shoulder. “Where are we going?”

Motioning you to walk, you both begin to slowly wander from the courtyard and out of campus.

“I thought that sometimes the simpler things work well.”

You tilt your head at him, not really understanding what he means and when he notices, he continues.

“We should get to know each other right?” He asks and you nod silently. “So we’ll walk, talk, get to know each other’s deepest and darkest secrets and get some ice cream whilst we do.”

“Deepest and darkest secrets?” You laugh.

Jisung pushes his lips into a line, nodding his head slowly.

“Yes, but you can only find them out after we’ve gotten ice cream.”

“So, where do we begin? If we have to wait for ice cream.”

You watch Jisung as he laughs to himself and you have to tell your heart to keep calm as you notice the way his face lights up as he does so.

You turn your head to look away and clear your throat. When you look back at him, he’s already gazing at you.

He’s smiling lightly and you’re not sure how, but his eyes look like they’re sparkling. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything, everything.” His smile somehow grows.

“Well,” you hum, thinking to yourself. “Where do I begin?”

“I know you work with my best friends,” Jisung comments.

“True, I do and they’re great friends and co-workers.” You smile, “which means if you’re friends with them, it must mean you’re pretty great too.”

Jisung is sure his cheeks are red when your words grace his ears.

You don’t know it, but you’re just adding more reasons to the list of why Jisung is so drawn to you. Because, sure, maybe he can’t pinpoint a single reason, but he sure could give you an essay full.

“Well, we all work together, obviously, my one friend was the one to come up with the idea of the business.”

“So why do you work there?” Jisung asks, causing you to look at him.

“I mean, even though it was my friend’s idea, we all helped to bring it to what it is today. I work there 'cause it’s fun, you meet so many people you know?”

“You do seem a lot more outgoing than I am,” Jisung hums in amusement.

Shrugging your shoulders in response, you look at him with a smile. “You seem plenty outgoing, to me at least.”

“Nah, not really, I just pretend to be you know? But in actual fact, people can be scary.”

“That is very much true.”

Before you knew it, you were both standing outside the ice cream shop. Jisung holds the door open for you and you both seem to sigh happily at the a/c cooling you down.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth in thought as your eyes scan the menu. Jisung watches you silently with a small smile on his lips. You’re so focused on going over the menu, it’s like you can’t sense the world around you.

He leans closer to you. “What’ya going to get?”

You practically jump out of your skin causing Jisung to burst into laughter as a result. Pushing him away lightly, you turn away from him, wishing for the a/c to cool your face down.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung tries to speak, but he can barely get the words out as he continues to laugh.

“Sure,” you mumble sarcastically.

“I am, I am, I promise.”

You’re not sure how he can smile so widely for so long, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to stop. “To prove it, you can ask whatever you want.”

Your eyes widen, a giggle escaping your lips.

“Your deepest and darkest secret.”

He clicks his fingers and points at you. The brightest smile you had ever seen on his face. “You got it.”

“But seriously,” Jisung’s laughter calms down. “What are you going to get?”

Your lip gutters out as your eyes go back to the menu. It really was too much choice and you felt like you could take all day to choose if you were given the chance.

“Why don’t you surprise me?”

He puts his hands on your shoulders, turns you around and pushes you lightly towards the door. “Wait outside, I’ll bring you the surprise as soon as it’s done.”

—

When you’re outside, you silently wonder if Jisung would notice if you went back inside to take advantage of the store’s A/C. However, you actually wait, somewhat patiently, outside.

Moving out of the way of a couple entering the store hand in hand, you let out a small sigh. What you had told Jisung earlier was true, you did enjoy meeting new people and the scheduled dates were nice. It was rare you had a bad one, some were awkward, but they were generally alright.

But this didn’t mean you didn’t miss having actual romance in your life. You wanted to see someone just because you wanted to and to have someone hold your hand and kiss your face. Whether or not you’d actually admit it aloud was another thing, but inside, your heart was just as desperate for love as the next person.

There wasn’t long to dwell on the thought though as you notice Jisung attempting, and failing, to open the door with his hands full. It was something out of a sketch show making you laugh to yourself for a moment before giving in and actually helping him in his efforts.

He’s soon outside with you without too much fuss and he’s standing there like a child who’s been let loose in a candy store.

“Your surprise ice cream,” he giggles to himself, the ice cream in full display in front of you.

He had gone the classic route, a full ice cream sundae. However, this was not your average sundae with bananas, cherries, whipped cream and a layer of hundreds and thousands. Except, this was in Jisung’s words: “A Jisung Special.”

“There’s whipped cream with chocolate and strawberry sauce, biscuit crumbles. Actual strawberries to simulate this being healthy, all on a bed of cheesecake ice cream, strawberry ice cream and vanilla ice cream.”

You’re smiling before you even know it. Taking it from him, the cool chill from the ice cream carton makes its way through your fingertips. “Why do I feel like this is something you get a lot.”

Jisung shrugs, as he shoves the mini plastic spoon into his own ice cream sundae and brings it up to his mouth in one swoop.

It’s honestly adorable that as soon as he tastes the concoction of his ice cream sundae, he does a little dance in place. It’s like he’s physically holding himself back from busting out a move just from how good the ice cream is.

Taking your own spoon and copying his actions, you take your own bite of the sundae in front of you.

It’s dance-worthy, so so dance-worthy. It’s like the flavours are having their own little party in your mouth, you swore you had never thought to put these things together until now. It’s a seemly obvious choice now that it’s been made aware to you.

“This is… This is amazing!”

Jisung’s laughter fills your ears once more and you never thought you could be as content as you are now.

“See, I told you!”

Before you know it, you’re both wandering again, picking at your sundaes and talking about anything and everything that comes to mind.

“Oh!” You say suddenly, pointing your spoon in Jisung’s direction. “Your deepest and darkest secret!”

“What about it?” Jisung smiles, tilting his head at you.

“Tell me, you promised after all.”

Jisung nods his head to himself, his lips in a thin line again as he thinks to himself. You’re waiting in anticipation, wondering what words will fall from his lips.

“I got it!” Jisung hums.

He stops walking and stares at you with a look in his eyes that you can’t detect. His eyes twinkle and you’re not entirely sure if he’s tearing up.

“My deepest and darkest secret…” He glances away, sighs and nods to himself before looking back at you. “To be honest, I cry at superhero movies a lot, like a lot a lot.”

Your mouth drops slightly, unsure of how to take this news. You can’t read Jisung well enough yet to know if he’s joking or being without a doubt serious. The little crack of a smile clues you into his joke.

Raising an eyebrow, you look at him. “Crying at superhero movies?”

Jisung nods.

“No one ever asks how they’re doing, they’re always expected to be strong.”

“I guess that makes sense…” You mumble to yourself. “So no other deeper darker secret?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jisung nods again, “Cross my fingers.”

You blink at him in confusion.

“That’s not the saying?”

“Are you sure?” He smiles again before holding his hand up to form a finger heart.

You break into a smile, unable to stop the laughter escaping you. Jisung looks at you contently as he watches you laugh to yourself. His heart skips a beat, confirming more to himself how if he could be the one to make you laugh like this forever, he’d take it and then some.

With all of your walking and talking, it’s gotten later in the day and when your laughter starts to calm down, you hold up your hand to block the sunlight from getting into your eyes.

He’s swift about it, you don’t even realise it’s happening until it’s happened when Jisung removes his sunglasses from the top of his head and delicately slides them onto your face.

If anyone were to ask, you’d blame your heated cheeks on the sun sending its rays directly at you. You’d ignore the way your heart picks up the pace as you feel the heat emanating from his fingers and how you miss it when he pulls them away.

“Is that better?” Jisung asks, his voice so soft that you barely hear it.

You’re unable to talk, not trusting your voice as you nod. His smile makes you lightheaded and you’re honestly not sure how you’re going to cope.

—

masterlist | next

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[azsazz]

Warrior Status

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Multiple Anon Request(s): "I’m not sure if requests are open, but maybe Az dealing with his kids as teenagers? 🥰"

"I absolutely love the children you made up for the inner circle!!!! Based on them, I had the idea to ask for a fic about them as teenagers; I feel like that dynamic would be fun to read about. Obsessed with your writing, and wanted to mention that I always look forward to your posts. I have your notifications on, so whenever u post I literally drop everything to read them❤️❤️"

In other words: Az trying to cope with his two oldest sons about to partake in the Blood Rite.

Warnings: Sparring/fighting but otherwise none.

Word Count: 2,483

_________________________________________

“Again, Baz,” Azriel demands, weapon raised high in his fighting stance.

They’ve been at it for hours, sparring with his son. They’d already run through hours of fighting fist to fist, and Azriel had more bruises inflicted by the young half–Illyrian than he’d like to admit. Now, they fight sword to sword and would finish the night with one last round of hand-to-hand combat, the shadowsinger analyzing Baz’s skills. He’s dripping sweat and feels centuries older than he is. Working as the spymaster of the Night Court and raising six kids will do that to a male.

A shadow alerts him to someone coming at him from behind and he ducks beneath Baz’s sword, twisting around just in time as his oldest – Wren – brings his own weapon down in a mighty swing, meant to cleave him in two. Azriel’s sword catches Wren’s, stopping the attempt with ease.

His free hand slides to his favorite knife strapped to his thigh. He unsheathes Truth–Teller, looking as sharp and menacing as ever, using the short blade in tandem with his longsword to block the onslaught of attacks from both of his sons.

Had they forgotten that he’d been doing this for centuries with his own brothers?

“What are we doing this for?” Baz snarls, his temper smoldering as he dodges a blow that would’ve cut his head clean from his shoulders, “We’re ready.”

“You’re not,” Azriel disagrees, parrying in defense. On the outside he’s cool and calm, stoic as he’s always been since he’s mastered himself, but on the inside his stomach coils with nerves, worried for his sons’ well-being as their day to partake in the Blood Rite nears. 

They’re nowhere near ready, by what his shadows and own eyes tell him. Wren still leans too far on his back foot when he strikes and godsdammit if he has to tell Baz one more time to keep his fucking elbow up–he exhales a steady breath, trying not to get too worked up about the flaws he witnesses. They might as well be as trained as the first years.

Baz self-corrects on his next swing and Azriel notes it with a clenched jaw. The nineteen year old has better control of the few shadows he has, a dark whisper of the mistake his father had seen in his ear, the young warrior scolding himself for it.

“What do you do when you wake up and are completely alone? No weapons, no wings, no siphons, with your brother and cousins at different points of the mountain?”

“Fight my way to them,” Baz responds, chest heaving. There’s a wicked glint in his eye, one of bloodlust and it reminds Azriel so much of himself when he was his son’s age, angry with the world and ready to tear apart anything that got in his way. “Obviously.”

“You could hardly hold your own against me hand-to-hand earlier,” Azriel comments, the cut and thrust he sends towards the more reckless of his sons shoves him off balance as he drives him around the ring, his shadows keeping a watch on Wren, who seems to be content to watch, his nose still dripping blood from where his father had drove the butt of his sword into it. 

Baz desperately tries to counter his father’s blows but Azriel does not yield.

“If you want to survive the Blood Rite you have to know these things,” the spymaster says, frustratedly.

Both Wren and Baz are nearly at the age to partake in the Blood Rite and Azriel couldn’t be more nervous. He remembers his time in the bloody test like it was yesterday. Waking up cold and alone and half-naked, his brothers were nowhere to be found. He’d fought tooth and nail against the full–blooded Illyrians, who’d made it their first task to kill him before assuming the climb. Many of them did not get the chance to reach the summit as the shadowsinger plowed through them to get to his brothers. 

His solution to all of his pent up anxiety is to make his children spar with him after every training day, making sure they’re prepared for the absolute worst.

It’s been centuries since he’d been in the Rite with his brothers, the three of them separated and having to fight their way back to each other, up the mountain itself to get to the onyx monolith at the top, securing their status as Carynthian warriors, but he’d never forget the hardships they’d all had to face to reach the summit.

“You don’t have to make it, you just have to survive.”

“We will,” Wren grits, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he comes to his little brother’s aid. They’ve been sparring together for years now but somehow their father’s skill still seems to surprise them. The seven cobalt siphons adorning his body only prove how proficient the male is at fighting.

And even though Baz has the same amount of siphons Azriel does, and Wren with five of his own, they still don’t even compare to the warrior that their father is.

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t have faith in us?” Wren asks angrily, aiming a clear cut to the back of his father’s thigh. The spymaster winces, hissing as he’s caught off guard but he retaliates with his own swing that neatly disarms his oldest son.

“I do,” Azriel pants, dipping low to avoid the left hook Baz throws his way. Always one to abandon his weapons and favors the feel of flesh against his knuckles, his son. Azriel pushes up from his crouch, delivering an uppercut that has his second oldest seeing stars as he falls back into the melted snow mixed with mud and blood beneath them, effectively ending the spar. “But me having faith in you isn’t going to help you reach the monolith.”

He offers down a hand but Baz ignores it, pushing himself to his feet and retreating towards the cabin with Wren by his side. Azriel disregards the hurt in his chest as he trails them, brushing his fingers through Jax’s hair when he reaches the home, the younger boy sitting on the steps, watching them intensely.

“Good job dad,” he compliments. They hadn’t let him join but he’s only a few years off from entering his own Blood Rite, the fifteen year old absorbing every training and spar that he can with those observing eyes.

He’s the best in his class and will be participating in the tradition by himself, unless Zuzu decides to join as well. She seems to be enjoying her Valkyrie training with her aunt, and it isn’t a requirement to become a full warrior in their legion, but knowing his little girl, she won’t let Jax go through it alone. That stubborn little girl will do anything to prove she’s as good as her brothers.

“Thanks, buddy. Why don’t you go wash up before dinner? I’ll be in in a minute.”

The teen nods, scrambling up the steps with a holler to his siblings, calling dibs on going first in the after dinner game the six of them had seemed to make up, something about rolling dice to get the highest score…he’s sure he’s missing some rules but he can’t be arsed to remember  right now.

Azriel takes a powerful leap, spreading his aching wings wide, flapping them a few times to get airborne. He just needs a few moments alone.

__________

“All your father wants is for you to make it out of the Blood Rite alive,” you explain softly, using a damp cloth to wipe the drying blood from Wren’s nose. Your oldest flinches, his face still tender, and you soothe his hair from his forehead with an apologetic look. “He will be proud of you boys no matter what echelon you become, you know that.”

“It doesn’t fucking seem like it,” Baz mutters, arms crossed against his chest as he toes at the carpet with his socked foot.

“Language,” you scold and your son just rolls his eyes.

“Mom,” he sighs, exasperated. Your second oldest huffs as you gesture him over to the seat next to his brother so you can examine his wounds.

You’d gotten pretty good at patching up cuts throughout the years you’d been with Az, and you’d even gone so far as to read up on a few things from the library during your spare time, and had been watching Madja fix up your children’s scrapes and bruises for nearly two decades after that. You could easily be a healer if you wanted to.

“Baz,” you mock, assessing his face. It’s been a long time since he’d lost his baby fat, growing into a young adult, sharp jaw like his father’s with a mouth to rival his Uncle Cassian’s. 

Azriel must’ve been agitated enough for him to have placed a well aimed hit like this, he normally stops himself before laying too much damage on his sons. They must’ve been more mouthy with their father today during training than they usually are. The Illyrian and fae blood in him will take care of the bruising within minutes, Baz has nothing to worry about.

“Nyx and Gideon don’t have to do extra training everyday,” Wren protests, and your heart aches a little because when did they all decide not to call each other by their nicknames anymore? “Every single day mom, can you believe it?”

You can believe it, pressing your lips in a tight line. Azriel is one of the most powerful Illyrians in history and he loves his children so much that this must be tearing the male apart, having to watch his sons going through this without his help. He hated all of the Illyrian traditions, would murder the entire race if he could, but the Blood Rite was the worst of them all.

“He’s worried,” you tell them, sitting between them when they scoot apart to make room. You wring the damp cloth between your hands, staring at it like it’s the most interesting thing in Prythian. “We both are.”

At the waver in your admission they cling to you. Your sons may pretend to be all big and bad, but they’re softies just like their father, aching at the sound of you unhappy. 

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Baz says, his voice raw with emotion. You lean your head against his, sighing when you hear Malos yelling at Jax in the other room. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

__________

Your mate hadn’t said a word since he’d arrived back at the cabin in the Illyrian war camp. You’d built one of your own, next to Rhys’ mother’s because your family was too large and rowdy to share the space with Azriel’s brothers and their families. 

He hadn’t even come by for dinner, and tried to ignore you calling out to him through the bond, but when he felt that frustration burning hot across the tether of emotion between the two of you, that he was in deep shit he responded softly.

It’s silent as you climb into bed next to him, lying flat on your back and staring up at the dark ceiling, all of your children sleeping – or pretending to – in the other rooms of the house.

“Wren and Baz are sneaking out,” he sighs, tossing an arm over his eyes. He doesn’t know why his children even try, his shadows note everything that they do, always have. He gets that they’re young and reckless and he was too when he was their age, so he lets them off the hook most of the time.

“They’re probably going to get a drink with their cousins after the days that they’ve had,” you respond, and there it is, the reason for the rift between the two of you. Azriel worked his sons to the brink.

“What did they tell you?” he murmurs the question as he rolls onto his side to face you, afraid of what they might’ve said.

“You’re running them ragged, they’ll be too exhausted to fight in the Rite if they have to with the rate you’re going,” you tell him gently, caressing his cheek with your thumb. He looks so tired, exhausted with worry, and you can’t wait for the Blood Rite to be over, but then you’ll have to deal with your mate worrying about your other four children, even though they’re years away from their own Rite’s.

“When they have to,” he corrects, clenching his jaw. It isn’t going to be easy for his sons, they’re less Illyrian than he and everyone seemed to hate him and his brothers when they were young. He can only imagine what the rest of them will try and do to his sons.

“They’re smart boys and have gotten training from the finest Illyrian warriors for almost their entire lives,” your voice is gentle, caring. “They don’t think you’ll be proud of them if they come out as anything less than Carynthian.”

His jaw slackens in shock, “Of course I would,” he protests, “They can be any echelon and I’d be the most proud. Look at Nesta for mother’s sake, she’s Oristian and could easily defeat a Carynthian. The title means little to me.”

“I know,” you sooth, letting him cuddle into your side, resting his head over your chest as you wrap an arm around him, mindlessly drawing circles across his back. “But they don’t know that.”

“Do they hate me? For going too hard on them?” he’s scared to ask, his voice is the smallest you’ve ever heard it and your heart cracks in your chest.

“No, absolutely not,” you respond firmly, giving him a jostle for good measure. “They love you so much, Azriel. Wren and Baz seem to think that you don’t have faith that they can do this. I think it’s getting to them a little more than they know.”

He sighs, shutting his eyes as he squeezes you in a hug. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

You run your fingers through his ink black hair, watching him. Your beautiful mate, always thinking he’s done something to upset his children.

“You didn’t fuck up, you just need to explain to them that you’re worried. Be open with them and I think you’ll be surprised,” you explain, kissing him on his forehead. He peers up at you, hazel eyes gleaming with thanks and love settling between the two of you, the bond buzzing.

“I love you (Y/N). More than you know.”

You return his smile, a dust of pink warming your cheeks. “I love you too, Az,” you admit, the butterflies awakening in your stomach like they always do when he says those words to you. You share an intimate kiss, soft and sweet. “Do you have any energy left for me, perchance?” you ask cheekily, squealing out a laugh when he rolls you on top of him.

“For you? Always, my love.”

[acourtofquestions]

I personally love all of SJM’s books, and have read TOG and ACOTAR (I’m on the second book of CC) but I’ve seen multiple anti-SJM posts on tumblr. I personally disagree with them, but what’s your opinion?

(One of the main things they argue is that Rhysand was abusive)

A very good question! Thanks for asking! I always love talking about fandom stuff & your posts are always a fav😊🫶 @romantasyreader28 (apology in advance for the delay & long ramble lol; it was a good question I had many thoughts on🤣)

I was actually pondering something similar within this note but separate for an updated reading post on Rowan from TOG (I’m reading HoF for the first time; & though I generally try not to pick “pro/anti” (as there’s always another side to the story) not gonna lie I was near “anti”-Rowan… until PT. 2… hence the more “pro”-Rowan upcoming post😂).

— So there are definitely a LOT of changing opinions depending on the point in the series.

As far as Rhysand goes:

I was on a rollercoaster with him at first too, the introductory chapters & UTM time period were concerning (assault is a big trigger for me; so having Feyre drink faerie wine, “marking” her with paint, & kissing her without consent was disturbing).

With that said, I did find his character generally easier to “like/not loathe” on first read in comparison to other “enemies to lovers”. I think this is because of a few reasons… The 1st being you know there is more going on beneath the surface. 2nd, the perspective it’s written in shows their draw to each-other & makes swaying the audience easier. 3rd the undercurrents to their banter & little clues to more within their interactions; such as him betting on HER; shows he believes in her & also something more. Finally, it is furthered by the already very dark setting, not to give excuse but to more easily explain the why which is NOT of malice. My biggest point is that he does not defend it, apologizes for it & it is not portrayed as “okay”.

He is not perfect, he can be read as hero or villain; he does NOT make the same mistake twice, he DOES apologize, he does TRY to be better. He creates a sanctuary specifically for women to escape abuse, he makes a lot of effort to give Feyre HER choices & empower her to make them. And the times we are shown his side it is much less morally murky.

I know there is a lot of anger around him hiding the risk of Feyre & Nyx; I don’t disagree it is wrong & confusing, but we do not get the full picture, clearly showing in the other perspectives. & The other being his threat to Nesta after she tells Feyre; which was wrong & he knows it. — There is a difference however between anger & action. — While many of these patterns could probably be deemed as abusive, they could also be deemed as acceptable/explainable. Which one is correct?

— Well, at the end of the day it’s fiction. Within a genre that very much struggles with this as a whole. & While there is something to be said for “real world” power within fictional escapes. It also comes with a different & messier set of non-existent rules; if we are to examine them all, quickly everything becomes problematic. & maybe that’s good to do, maybe not; it’s worth acknowledging; but in that acknowledge that it is fiction.

Meanwhile, writers are real people. So be wary of jumping toward conclusions on either side…

As far as SJM goes:

I don’t know & we’ve never met, I don’t know what she’s like, what she believes in, what she’s experienced. I doubt anyone would write a series with the intention to sway people into abusive relationships. & though intent is a good question to ask; I tend to lean similarly towards no.

There are times I think abuse is shown; whether intentional (as Arobynn and Celaena), or questionably (Tamlin & Feyre’s first kiss; a moment that bothered me as she is drunk, but I actually appreciate because it is shown how problematic they are later; point to it as a key warning, not “romantic fairytale” to aspire for).

I also think the Maasverse does take time to give survivors & “unspoken stories” a spotlight, that means a great deal (or at least it did to me) with characters like Gwyn being a large one.

It serves as an enjoyable escape from the world; one we know is fiction. A morality that can be more “fun” to debate & ponder, but still exists within fiction & opinion primarily over actual moral grounding.

For me: I love Rhysand (though I may not wish to marry him in the real world) I wish to have someone to hold my hair when I have nightmares & I loved watching him and Feyre fall in love in moments like that; I love the way SJM turns plots on their heads & think she does a great job with them.

Reading throne of glass as my next Maasverse series has been cathartic; I have thoroughly enjoyed many dynamics and actually praised them for flipping stereotypes on their heads & NOT being abusive.

So, while I think there are many sides and points to argue & at the end of the day is generally within fiction; I enjoy SJM’s writing & reading them. I generally don’t find it more problematic than other series. And prefer to enjoy fandoms, or move along if it doesn’t feed me healthily.

[starliights-shining]

Party goer.

Pairing: Jazz x reader

Warnings: NSFW, fem word uses,

A/N: this is like 4400+ words and 8 pages in my docs, ive been working on it fro the past week or so. Its not proof read, i simply just dont proof read. I've been preoccupied with RE4s remake coming out soon, but i swear im not ignoring the TF request I have, it'll just take a long time for them to come out. :) anyways enjoy!

Parties, loud music, drinking, the mixing crowd of bots and people. You didn’t really care for them, but Jazz did. When you say a lot of parties, you mean a lot of parties. Ranging from weddings, funerals, battle victories, hell even political ones, Because if Jazz got an invite, he was going with you of course. This party was different. He got his invite from Prowl, but when Jazz brought the invite to you, it said in fancy italics “No Humans!”. 

“It says no human Jazz. I'm not going to some stupid party just to be denied entry or worse bullied.” 

“You won’t get bullied, you’ll be with me. For the last time (Y/N)” 

You were on the couch, You looked at the bot, a disappointed frown on his face plate. The invitation is gently in your grasp, its fancy English writing and other language translations. 

“I don’t know that Jazz, you want me to get all dressed up just to be denied entry or be sat outside the entire time?” 

You placed the invasion on the coffee table. Leaning back into the couch, you were upset. Your lover was basically asking you to get dressed and all just to be denied entry to a party, no, you will not be doing that. 

“You’re acting like I'm asking you to fight in a war, I’m not.” 

“You, Jazz, you're not understanding.” 

You're stuttering over your words, he was upsetting you. 

“I am understanding, if you don’t want to go just tell me the real reason. Is it prowl? Is there someone else you’re avoiding?” 

“I don’t want to be bullied at a party for being me, that's all Jazz.” 

“Cut the slag, (Y/N).” 

You were taken aback, why was he so upset with you. 

“You know what, yes Jazz. It’s You and Prowl” 

You were now standing up, he had finally gotten the same energy match. You were pissed. 

  “I dont want to go to a party, where I sit in a fucking corner by myself, and watch you and Prowl get fucking drunk. I don’t want to sit outside a fucking club or god fucking knows where, while you and your shit cop buddy go inside and get fucked up and hit on. Just go by yourself.” 

You walked out of the living room, hell you were tempted to go for a walk. Instead you walk straight to your room. Locking the door and just sitting on the edge of your bed. How the hell could he just yeah at you like, over not wanting to go to a party that says “No Human.”

You woke up to a knock on the door. Multiple knocking, getting up you opened the door to see Jazz, his smile not wearing as you gave him a tired look. 

“You wanna get ready, and like come with us?”

You stared into his visor, until the movement of Prowl behind him caught your attention. You sighed before motioning your head for him to enter and moved towards the bathroom. He closed the door behind himself, and followed you into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

His question felt stupid, of course you were still mad at him. He made you feel bad, how would he feel if you made him feel like shit for following directions. You took your clothes off and stepped into the shower. 

“No, just tired.” 

“Tired, tired of me?” 

He laughed, he was trying to lighten the mood, considering he could probably feel the heavy atmosphere. 

“I guess you could say something like that.”

“Alright well, I’ll be downstairs with Prowl, we’ll leave when you're ready.” 

You actually don't know why you're going, you had expressed very aggressively why you didn’t want to go. Yet, the moment Jazz asked you didn’t hesitate. He just had that effect on you, a simple command and you’d do it, but he doesn’t ever want to understand your side. The noise of Jazz laughing took you out of your thoughts, the cold nipping at your skin as you three stood in the que line to get in. You peeked around the bot in front of you to see the line, an arrangement of all all types of people, but not a single human. You straighten up, standing behind the two mechs, an uneasy feeling washed over you. You truly felt like you weren’t supposed to be here. You felt someone bump into you, turning around, you were met with an ugly look. 

“Sorry, I didn’t,” “I don’t care, just watch where you’re walking.” 

They had cut off your apology, completely blaming you for the encounter. The person had tried to step in front of you, assuming the line ended right after Jazz and Prowl. You stepped back in our original spot, looking up at the person and smiling. 

“Sorry, I was actually here before you.” 

Bring your hand up to point at the spot you were standing at, the same spot you’ve been at, right behind the two Cybertronians. Jazz turned around at the sound of your voice. Looking between you and the person. 

“Is there a problem?” 

He placed that ‘I’ll act nice, but am i really’ smile on his face plate. You watched as the person backed up, looking at you with an upset look before mumbling no. Jazz pulled you to stand in front of him. 

“Did something happen?” 

“No, he was just trying to cut in line. Probably because I was human.” 

You spoke, turning around and looking forward. This was the exact reason you didn’t want to come. You weren’t even inside yet and there was already someone trying to start something. All these other space people, some of them look like humans, You can’t tell the difference unless you ask them, and even then some won’t even admit they're human. 

By the time you remember what you were here for, Jaz had already gotten both you and Prowl into the party. 

Jazz bends down to your head level, before speaking. 

“See, we’re in. No need to worry.” 

You looked at him, why the fuck would he say that. He started walking towards an empty booth, sitting you inside. 

“Now, Prowl and I have some things to attend to. Stay here, if anyone asks, you're waiting for someone.” 

You nod, placing your hands in your lap. Before Jazz leaves he places a kiss on your forehead, causing you to look over at him, he smiles, snaps one of his servos before pointing a finger gun at you. You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, this is exactly how you thought it'd go. Being left in some strange club, while he goes off to go god fucking knows where. A waiter came up to your table asking if you wanted anything, considering you knew you’d be there for a long ass time. You ordered yourself something, anything to keep you occupied. The last thing you wanted was to think about your situation. 

The waiter brought the drink out and after a few sips you just ended up swirling the liquid around. The mix of human and cybertronian alcohol mixed into a light neon blue. Maybe this was just part of the every plan, drag you out to a party and have you sit alone. You can't seem to figure out what comes after that, some random person hits on you or the Prowl keeps you company until Jazz comes back. The simple thought of having company while sitting here just kept creeping into your mind. 

You were left with your own mind, something that can pull your moods up or down with just simple thinking, but considering you’ve been at this party for some time and no one seems to notice or care, it was time to just relax. You leaned back in the booth, your head resting on the stuffed leather as you closed your eyes. Pulling your drink close to you, but keeping your hand on it. You know closing your eyes in a foreign place isn’t the greatest thing to do, but who really cares, you didn’t want to come here anyways and hopefully Jazz or Prowl would return soon. 

You were just getting comfortable when you felt a knock on the table. Your eyes open to see the familiar blue visor. He smiled at you before sitting around from you, a drink in hand. 

“Whatcha doin?” 

His tone was playful, it seems like his drink was really getting to him. 

“Sitting here,” 

You reply as you close your eyes again. 

“I don't know, it seems like you were sleeping.”

“I was just resting my eyes.”

You lifted your hand up moving it around in front of your face in a shade gesture. 

“That's bad because anyone could slip something into your drink.” 

You shrugged, you knew he was right but you really didn’t want to admit he was, you were still upset at him. So instead you acted like you didn’t care. 

“And then they’d kidnap you, my beautiful girlfriend.” 

He was sweet talking you. He knew you were still upset at him and the thought of that simple just couldn’t exist within him. You didn’t respond, if he knew the true reason he’d recommend leaving, and you really like the drink you have and you're super comfortable. 

“Now, tell me, why are your eyes closed? Is it the lights? Thinking about getting me in bed already?” 

God now he was asking questions and his questions were getting out of hand, so you acted like you couldn't hear him over the loud music and chatter. You finally decided that keeping your eyes closed would mean no looking at Jazz, so you lifted your head. Making eye contact with his visor while pulling your cup up to your lips. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” 

You just wanted to know what he wanted, disturbing your peace in your small corner booth. He looked taken aback, he placed his free hand on his chassis and let out a dramatic gasp.

“I just wanted to see what my beautiful girlfriend was doin, am I not allowed to be with you.” 

You rolled your eyes, is this really how he was trying to get on your good side? 

“And now you’ve seen, Don’t you have things to attend to, like,”

You paused looking around the crowded room, your eyes scanning for anything that looked of interest or be of interest to Jazz. You saw multiple people dancing, a group of girls getting drunk and being hit on by some space robot, the DJ trying to keep up with everyone's requests, the bartender yelling at someone for hitting on her, and then your eyes landed on Prowl. The cop sat with a lady at the bar, that was your goat out, Jazz would see Prowl finally getting some and then it’d be enough to convince him to either wingman for him or leave with you. You lifted your hand with your cup in it, your index finger pointing towards the bot.

“Like Prowl, He seems to have found himself a lady.” 

Jazz whips his helm around, searching the bar for the bot.

“I don’t believe it.”

He trailed off as he turned back to you. Now was the time he’s supposed to get up and go talk to them, get her to fall in love with his close friend, but for some reason, he doesn’t. He leans back into his spot in the booth, taking a sip of the drink he harbored. A sly smile on his face as he watches your face. 

“Was that your plan to get rid of me?”  

You sighed, downing the last bit of your drink. You shifted your position in the booth, Placing your arms on the table as you leaned in. He leans in himself, that same smile on his face. Your eyes trail from his visor to his lips and then down his chassis and finally to his servos. Your eyes flicking back up to his visor and then back to his drink.  Learning a tad bit more and smiling. 

“Yeah, kinda hoped it would work, maybe I could get you to leave me the fuck alone.” 

You said his smile fading as he started to move back to his original position, your hands swiftly grab his cup, It being slightly larger than yours, as you bring it up to your lips, taking in the liquid. You thought it tasted ten times better then whatever the fuck you hand before.

“You little,” 

he was cut off as you got up from the booth, placing the cup back on the table. Since Jazz wasn’t going to wingman for Prowl, you thought you’d do it. Walking towards the bot, you felt a pair of metal arms wrap around you . 

“Where do you think you're going little miss.” 

Jazz’s voice being heard a little too clearly in your ear, you giggled, leaning back into him. You moved to grab his arms.

“I wanna go tell Prowl that we’re leaving,” 

You lied, the original plan being thrown out the window the moment Jazz grabbed you, the same thought about how you’d do anything for him. 

He hummed his response letting god of you and settling for just holding your hand as you dragged him towards the bot. As you got closer until you got the attention of Prowl, You put on your brightest smile and gave a big wave.

“Prowl,” 

You drew out his name, His optics met your eyes. 

“Jazz and I are going home, I thought I’d tell you just in case you were to leave later and couldn’t find us.” 

He nodded, after getting confirmation you looked towards the lady, smiling before turning back to Prowl and waving. You turned around and started to leave. Walking through the crowd of people and to the door, you could feel the occasional squeeze from his servos. 

The feeling of the cold night breeze hit your face hard, shivering as Jazz moved to stand next to you while letting go of your hand. Fresh air never felt better, a deep breath coming from you, eyes closed relaxed. It seemed like the headache you had while in the building disappeared the moment you stepped outside. The noises of cars and other city noises take over your ears. 

“Soo, what do you wanna do now,” 

He paused, you opened your eyes to look over at him and smiled. 

“I know you didn't actually want to go home, come on, you look too good to just go home.” 

He moved his servos in a gesturing motion towards your outfit, yeah you did like your fit and did think it was kinda too early to go home, but you didn’t need him to know that. 

“We could just go for a walk, see what we see.” 

You suggested, bringing your hands up to the sides of your arms, the chill of the air seeping to your bones. You started in a direction, the bot following behind you. You could hear the sound of whirling from his intake. 

“Got anywhere special you wanna go?” 

He moved up to walk next to you, a smile on his face plate as he analyzed your reaction. The city was large, and you could practically go anywhere you wanted. So you thought, trying to come up with something cool other than just going home. Cool, something cool for Jazz to enjoy. He could just enjoy your company, but the idea of a walk didn’t really seem to interest him whatsoever. 

“It's okay if you don't have anything to do. I already dragged you to that party,” 

He paused, he was thinking, your eyes met with his visor. Your reflection looking back at you in the shiny blue material. At that moment, you thought you could look at yourself for the rest of your life through that visor, a visor brighter than the blue sky. You didn’t practically like looking at yourself, but this time, you thought you could do it for hours on end. Your eyes trail down to his lips for a split second before looking back at his visor. The cold air seemed to hit your body differently at that moment, almost lighting a fire of lust within you. 

“Hello, (Y/N)? Y’a there!” 

Jazz moved his servo in front of your face, breaking you from your trance. Your hands came up to your mouth in a cupping motion as you blew hot air into them, a desperate attempt to warm up. You could just take one and tell him you’d like to go home, but who knows what’d go down if you both went home with the amount of alcohol in your systems. Maybe that’s what made going home so exciting, the thought of desire and being under the bot you so desperately love. 

“I’d like to go home, it’s getting colder and I didn’t dress for it.” 

You stated, the idea to cover the real reason for going home with freezing being the only thing keeping you going. 

You both arrive at your house, the bot standing behind you while you fiddled with your keys to get the door unlocked. You opened the door to be met with the warmth of your home and its familiar comforting smell. The sigh coming from you is a signal of home. You had walked further into your home, forgetting about the bot who was behind you. You just wanted out of your clothes, the redistricting fabric from the dress and the heels you wore that was making it feel like you were walking on pins and needles. 

When Jazz looked up from closing the door you were gone, the faint noise of your heels going up the carpeted stairs . 

“Slow down, pretty girl.” 

He called out, as he started following you. It didn’t take long for him to catch up, walking into your bedroom to see you standing next to the bed, one hand placed on the mattress and slightly bent over as your other hand reached for your heel that was kicked up. He leaned against the door frame watching you, arms crossed over his chassis. 

Once you got your heels off you dug your feet into the carpet, the feeling getting you to sigh in relief, no more heels. Both of your hands were now planted on the bed and your head hanging down, all you needed was to get your dress off and then get a warm bath and your night would be complete. Complete? I’d be complete if you could get Jazz on top of you. Your thoughts were cut short when you felt a pair of servos on your waist, his digits playing with the fabric of your dress. 

“You look too good in this dress, just for it to go to waste. Don't you think so?”

You could feel him pulling you into him, your back meeting his chassis as his helm rested on your shoulder. You’d be lying if you didn’t agree with him, you looked too damn good in your dress just to give it up in a matter of seconds. His servo was traveling downwards, stopping at the hem of the dress. He took a deep breath in, his servos playing with the end of your dress. 

“I’ve thought about you in this dress since we left.” 

His servo moved to your inner thigh, and moved upwards towards your panties. A whimper left your mouth, his digits started to move from your clit to your entrance, he wasn't even in your panties yet. 

“Yet, I still don't know how i want to fuck you.” 

The dirty talk was getting to you, fueling the fire of desire and want within you, and with how close to your pussy he was, it was getting hard to stay patient. HIs digits moved the fabric of your panties aside, his digits circling your clit and occasionally going down to circle your entrance. A moan leaving your mouth, he was picking speed up and then slowing down in a steady pattern. If he kept this up, you’d be a moaning mess by the end of the night. 

“That feel good, enjoying yourself baby?” 

He spoke in a mocking tone. Of course it felt good, but you weren’t going to tell him that. He finally fully put his digits in you, rubbing against your walls before deciding to go in a scissoring motion. There was no more holding back, your head leaned back against his shoulder plating, and you did not stop moaning. 

“Yeah,” 

He paused, taking a moment to fully enjoy the sounds you were making, and change his pattern fingering. 

“I’d say you're enjoying it a little too much, it's gettin’ a little too tight. Getting close aren't ya.”  

All you could do in that moment was nod and whine out his name. The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter by the second. 

“Yeah, let's speed this up.” 

His servo on your waist goes to circle your clit, you were already trying to last longer then you wanted, but you guess that is out of the window now. The sensation from his digits in you and circling your clit was getting to much, your hands came up to grab his helm 

“Jazz, please.” 

You were able to get out in between moans and whines. The knot was going to break any second now, and you wanted to be vocal about it. 

“Yeah, come baby.” 

You did just that, came all over his digits. His pace not once slowing or stopping, a steady pace as you rode your high out on his servo. Wiggling and grinding your hips into that same servo in an attempt to keep the high longer. 

“Don't worry, I’m not done just yet.” 

He moves to help you out of the dress straps and moves it down below your breast, servos moving to play with the flesh, pitching one nipple and rolling the other with his digits. A sharp gasp came from you, He pulled you into him, this time it was more aggressive as he littered your neck and jaw with kisses. 

“You're so pretty, you know that.” 

He lets go of you and pushes you face first into the mattress. 

“Pretty enough to take my spike.” 

The sound of his shuffling around behind, as you took your panties off and hiked you dress up above your hips, why not give him better access. He smacks his spike against your pussy, causing you to let out a dreamy sigh. After that he didn't waste any time, pushing his spike straight into you. His servos are going to grab your hips immediately after, his grip tighter than any other time. His pace was steady, he occasionally flexed his digits. He let out a few grunts here and there, but nothing was louder than your moans. 

“Primus, you take my spike so good.” 

You felt your walls clench down on his spike, now he really knew what dirty talk did to you. His servo came down with a smack, the noise jolting you from your haze, his pace picked up, and a loud groan came from him. 

“Yeah, keep that up baby. You might get me to come first.” 

He lifted your hips up and fucked into you, his grip brusing the soft skin. You knew there'd be some sort of imprint tomorrow. His spike felt like it was kissing the knot forming. You guessed his grip on your hips wasn't enough, because he had now moved one of his servos to grab the dress, bunching it up in his hand and holding onto it like he was in a rodeo and fucking into your pussy, and god you were enjoying it. Every little noise coming from you sounded like you were in a porno. 

“Yeah, you like that pretty girl.” 

His pace quickening, you felt like you were going to crumble, once that knot snapps you’d be no more, and that time was coming quicker and quicker by the second. You whined to jazz, he whined back at you. 

“What is it, you're gonna come?” 

He knew he was making you feel good, because god you were making him feel good.  You nodded the best you can through the movement from his pounding. 

“Oh primus, I love how you can’t control yourself,” 

His free servo coming down on your ass, that signature smack. He enjoyed watching the way your ass jiggled from the hit, he liked watching just like your boobs, the way they both jiggle, but more importantly the way he saw your skin move like waves when he brought your hips into his. God not only was your pussy intoxicating to him your entire being was intoxicating. You smile, the way you hand fit in his, your kisses, the simple way you looked at him, it was like watching you fall in love with him every time. You were far too intoxicating, just like his own brand and he just couldn't get enough. 

“If you wanna cum, I’ll let you, just one request.” 

Your arms are stretched in front of you on the bed, gripping the sheets beneath them.

“Anything, I’ll do anything,” 

You were practically moaning out your response, you’d simply do anything to come, to feel the warm welcome of hot desire. 

“Tell me who you belong to.” 

His free servo was now gripping your waist, pulling your hips to meet his thrusts every time. His grunts were starting to be more consistent, he was close. Far closer than you thought he’d be. You thought about his request, any other time you wouldn’t even think twice to say it. You thought about it like your life depended on it, but you really didn’t care. He's yours right now, not buried in someone else right now, he was buried deep in you, and that was simply all you needed to know. 

“You, I belong to you Jazz.” 

You grip on the sheets tightening. 

“Come on, keep it up. Gotta have everyone hear this. Can’t have anyone trying to take you now.” 

His servo let go of the dress now both on your hips, as he was hunched over, Spike going in and out with lewd noises as you both almost went over the edge. 

"Yours, I'm yours jazz.” 

You were almost not able to get your words out, you let out a few more moans before you crumbled, the last moan being dragged out as Jazz released into you. He let out a groan, thrusting his hips into you a few more times before stopping. The only thing heard within your bedroom was both you and Jazz trying to catch your breaths. 

“You're always so good.” 

You laughed, taking your time to recollect yourself before speaking. 

“Of course, You’re all I ever wanted.” 

[redahlia-writes]

you make loving fun. | frankie morales x ofc

three. everywhere

content (for this chapter): swearing (in multiple languages), chaotic siblings dynamic, insecurities, references to a past (bad) relationship, fluff, one black eye, a landlord being a landlord (derogatory), frankie being a little bit of an idiot, symbolism if you squint

word count: 6.2k

a/n: for santi's girl please refer to @lcvenderblues (i feel like i'm throwing you to the wolves), and also thank her because it's the main reason why camila and frankie came to be. i wanna thank you all once again for the response to the previous chapters, makes me cry a bit and ily all

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

series masterlist | masterlist

previous

“Frankie has always been the least impulsive of us. When we worked together, it was the two of us bringing down the rashness of the group–I think that’s why we went along in the first place. I looked at him and saw a wise, level-headed, considerate man–and then Camila happened. Sorry, I’m sorry, just a joke! But, truly, ever since she came into his life, Frankie became different–it took me a while to realize it was a good different, that it was, for lack of a better word, his healing. And I liked Camila, since the first day we met: she was funny, kind, smart, beautiful too–most of all, I’d never seen Frankie like that. None of us had. It was odd, I think, and she knew that. I’ve never met anybody as understanding as Camila, as able to read other people as she does, and I’ll admit it was a little scary, in the beginning. But I’ll never forget–and, Fish, you don’t know this–one night, we were out for drinks, and Camila pulled me aside; it was just a few weeks after we’d first met, she looked me straight in the eyes and told me William–swear to God, the first person to call me William in years–, I could never hurt him. She said it like she couldn’t even fathom the idea of doing so, and it was so easy to believe her. It became even easier as time went by, and she stuck not only with Frankie, but the rest of us. So Fish, thank you for bringing her into our lives–I know I don’t have to tell you how lucky both of you are.”

The three men at the door looked at the woman in front of them with a dumbfounded gaze, looking between her and the young girl giggling in her arms. Alba wriggled in her hold, reaching her arms over towards the closest of the three of them.

“Does it take three people to deliver pizza now?” she wondered, her eyes flickering with amusement as she tilted her head to the side, loose strands of her braided hair falling across her face. Alba, turning her head towards her, squealed and imitated her as she looked back at the men, headbutting Camila gently in the cheek with a babble. “I know, baby–they don’t even have the pizza!” she hummed with a grin.

“Sorry,” the tallest of them managed to pull himself back from his haze, leaning forward slightly, “who are you?”

“Camila,” she readjusted Alba on her hip, her gaze wandering across them one more time.

“Mila, do you need–” Frankie called, walking towards the entrance. At the sight of the three men, he stopped in his tracks for a moment. “Carajo,” he muttered under his breath, then reached her side–his hand rose to the small of her back right away, a gentle caress up across her spine as one of Alba’s arms pushed out in his direction. “What are you doing here?”

“Interrupting somethin’, clearly,” the one at the front said, looking at Camila and Alba, then back towards Frankie, dark eyebrows arched. “Surprise?”

“Is this Morales?” a voice called from behind them, and all five turned. “Pizzas for Morales?” the delivery guy offered, tentatively.

“Yeah, sorry,” Frankie sighed, fishing the money from Camila’s cardigan pocket before pushing between the men to retrieve the boxes and pay him. He turned back towards her, his gaze darting between the three before settling on her–she shrugged lightly, her eyebrows arching a little, to which he tilted his head to the side, and only then she nodded. It happened so fast, the others simply stood staring, all equally perplexed, until Frankie sighed again. “So, are you guys staying for dinner?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” the boxes were quickly removed from Frankie’s hands as one of the men walked inside, lingering a moment at the threshold with a little smile on his boyish face. “Hi,” Alba babbled the word back, and his eyes shimmered slightly before he looked at Camila again. “I’m Benny.”

“I know, dear,” she said gently, her smile soft and incredibly warm. Benny tripped on the step to get fully inside, gripping the boxes a little tighter in his hands as he walked past with her free hand brushing his shoulder–he turned to the others, his eyes a little wide. “You’re Will,” she added, looking towards the taller of them–he nodded, his lips pressed a little tighter than before–and then turned to the last of them. “Which means you’re Santiago.”

“Christ, nobody’s called me Santiago in ages apart from my mother,” he muttered, and Frankie elbowed him in the ribs. “Ya basta, pendejo,” he complained, pushing the man aside before stepping forward. “Sorry, chiquitita,” he murmured towards a smiling Alba. “Yes, hi.”

“Ma’am,” Will nodded his head as he walked in, and Camila’s eyes widened a little before she snorted, sending the child in another fit of giggles. Will frowned slightly, his steps faltering as he turned to look over his shoulder at Frankie, right after him.

“Sorry, just–Camila is just fine, Will,” she said, shifting to close the door. Frankie moved at her side, his hand again reaching up her back before he had to grab Alba, her whole body tipping forward to reach for her father. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called ma’am in my life.”

“Get in here and make yourself useful, Miller!” Santi called out from the kitchen, and Will cleared his throat with one last glance in Camila’s direction before walking away.

Frankie bumped his shoulder gently with Camila’s, turning his gaze towards her and mouthing a quiet sorry to which she smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” she reassured softly, interlocking her arm with his and walking with him towards the kitchen, where plates and glasses clattered, quick and nervous chattering filling the space. “Besides, you did mention us meeting.”

“Yeah, just–” he took a slow breath in, exhaled when her chin brushed his shoulder. “I think I was hoping it’d happen as late as possible,” she laughed softly, placing yet another kiss on his stubbled cheek.

“Well, at least one of them likes me for sure,” she whispered, glancing at the three bumping into each other in the kitchen, and smiled. “I can work with that. I’ll be right back.”

He let Alba back down to toddle by herself in the kitchen, followed by him shortly–the three men stopped their chat and movements as soon as they saw him, Benny crouching down with his arms wide open to welcome the child.

“If we crashed date night you could just say it,” Santi said, eyebrows arched as he looked at Frankie leaning on the counter.

“She just came over after work, Pope,” he muttered in return, head hanging a little lower. “My place’s closer than hers and neither of us wanted to cook, that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he scoffed, mockingly, before mimicking the other man’s position–elbows on the counter, head slightly tilted to look at him. “You don’t want us here. You wanted to keep hiding her from us.”

“Pope,” Will chided, clear eyes hardening a little with the reproach.

“Hiding her?” Frankie frowned, pushing himself up. “You’ve all known about her for months, what are you talking about?”

“Yeah, six months,” Santi’s eyes darted towards the door and then back to his friend. “You do realize it’s been six fucking months since you first went out with her, right?”

“Don’t listen to your uncle, he can’t watch his mouth,” Benny told Alba, who sat on his bent arm and giggled whenever he looked back up at her. 

“Sorry,” Santi muttered, but quickly turned back towards Frankie. “All I’m saying is, you’re hiding her from us–or us from her, maybe.”

“I’m not hiding anybody, Pope,” Frankie sighed heavily, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “But if you must know, this is why I hadn’t introduced you yet–you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion.”

“This whole thing? You mean your girlfriend, Fish?” Santi snorted, to which Frankie frowned again.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mumbled, flinching when Benny, suddenly at his side, hit him in the arm. “What?”

“Dude, come on,” the younger Miller said, with a wide grin and his head tilted–Alba imitated him, too, tipping herself to the side. Benny’s hand reached up to balance her. 

“What?” he repeated, shrugging lightly.

“You’ve been spending all your time with her–we gotta start ambushing you to remember what you look like,” Frankie rolled his eyes, stepping back to fold his arms across his chest.

“I don’t spend all–I’m not having this conversation,” he exclaimed at last, shaking his head. “You’re here now, you’re meeting her, that’s it.”

“Still sounds like you don’t want to,” Santi retorted, to which Frankie threw his hands up in the air, head tipped back.

“Dios–you’re unbelievable,” he muttered. His position shifted almost immediately after, shoulders sagging a little as if in relief before he turned his head, just a moment before Camila stepped into the kitchen–she’d undone her hair, washed her face of any residual make-up, barefooted, and looked right at home. “Hungry?”

The three of them glanced at each other as a bubble seemed to form around Frankie and Camila, his eyes crinkling at the corners while she reached his side, nodding with her eyebrows arched. Frankie’s hand sought her arm, trailing down the large sleeve until it brushed her hand, fingers hooking almost as an afterthought. She leaned in, and brushed a quick kiss to Frankie’s lips. The others looked away quickly–it felt like something too homely to be witnessing. Too intimate.

“Starving,” she replied, bumping into his side gently, a smile grazing her lips.

“Mi-a!” Alba called, loudly, rocking herself in Benny’s hold. The woman’s eyes shimmered slightly, and she circled around Frankie to reach for the child–she all but fell in her embrace, with a giggle as soon as her face was buried in the waves of her hair, tugging slightly on the closest lock she could grab.

“Hey, how come you call for her but not your uncle?” Santi protested, reaching for both of them. “Ya pues, digas tío, chiquitita,” he leaned so that his face was a little closer to Camila’s shoulder, where Alba rested her chin and gave a toothy grin. “¿Puedes llamar a tu tío Santi?” the woman chuckled at his sweetened voice, looking towards him from above her shoulder.

“Sorry, Pope,” Frankie exclaimed, his hand coming down onto the man’s back in a mockingly reassuring pat. “Think she has a favorite Garcia now.”

“Yeah, yeah, must run in the family,” he scoffed, then reached over to poke Alba’s cheek. “Pequeña traidora,” he whispered, making the child squeal and hide her face into Camila’s shoulder. “Alright then–I’ll just have to win you back.”

“Oh, you’re making it into a competition?” Camila chuckled, stepping aside and towards the living room–Santi followed shortly after, bringing Alba’s high chair with him.

“Of course I am,” he declared, puffing his chest out a little. “For both Morales,” he added, and Camila’s laughter rang crystalline and loud.

Frankie’s gaze stayed trained on them, blindly reaching for the pizza boxes until another hit against his shoulder from Benny made him groan and rub against the offended spot, looking back at the younger Miller with a frown.

“Will you quit that?” he grumbled, to which Benny snickered.

“Not your girlfriend my ass, Fish,” he took the pizzas from him, walking backwards to the living room with a slightly wilder grin. “You’re not fooling anybody!”

Will, quiet until that moment, tilted his head as Frankie’s gaze moved from his younger brother to Camila–she was crouched down with Alba in front of her and Santi to the side, her hair falling like a curtain across her side profile until she reached up, tucking it behind her ear to reveal a smile. A quick one broke on Frankie’s lips, too, and Will cleared his throat.

“Looks pretty serious,” he commented, level-voiced, and Frankie looked back at him.

“Still figuring it out,” he admitted, occupying his hands by gathering the glasses one of them had already pulled from the pantry. “It’s–you know how it is. Better safe than sorry.”

Will wondered if Frankie was truly unaware there was no safe anymore–not with the way he seemed to be lured by her, eyes and body seeking her even though she was just a few steps away. Not with the way her gaze softened when she looked at him, too, her hand trapped in Alba’s ones.

“How much does she know?” Will asked softly–careful, always calculated Will.

Frankie shrugged, lowering his gaze before turning it to his friend once more.

“All of it.”

“The pilot license?” he nodded, tapping his index against the side of the glass he was holding. “Colombia?”

“All of it, Will,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, brows pinched together. “She’s known for a while, and she’s still here, and things are good. Actually good.”

“Alright,” Will said quickly, stepping towards him and reaching to squeeze his shoulder. Frankie exhaled heavily, face relaxing. “Alright, Frankie, I’m sorry,” he added, and sighed before taking the glasses from Frankie. “She does seem nice. I’ll tone it down.”

“Thank you,” he nodded once, and turned his gaze to meet hers across the room–a quick smile pulled at his mouth once more, instinctual and soft. “She really, really is. She’s good.”

Camila’s fingers gently scratched across his scalp, the images on the TV screen blurring with each passing moment–the movie played softly, sound muffled by one of his ears pressed against her thighs, one hand brushing small and slow circles over her knee from above the hem of her skirt.

Alba was asleep in her room, a reprieve from her ever growing vocabulary and the quickness of her steps that had left them both exhausted–Frankie knew that if neither of them made a move to get up and go to bed, they’d probably spend the night right there on the couch.

“Whose idea was it to go out today?” he mumbled, cheek squished against her leg that turned his words into a light slur. Camila chuckled, trailing the hand that was in his hair down to the nape of his neck, making him sigh softly.

“Yours,” he gave a gentle squeeze to her knee and groaned.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing himself against her a little harder–Camila chuckled again. “The park, too?”

“It’s such a nice day,” she responded, deepening her voice in a mock imitation of him. “The sun’s out, it’ll do Alba some good to be outside. Oh, let’s also invite the others!”

“That is not how I speak,” he protested, pinching her inner thigh–she snorted, wriggling a little underneath him. In response, he draped his whole arm over her legs, locking her in place. “Besides, you’re the one who brought that cake–the sugar high is on you.”

“Your mom gave me the recipe! I had to try it,” she retorted with an offended gasp, poking his shoulder with her finger. A buzz came from the coffee table in front of them–the nth of the evening–and the laughter in her words left space to a heavy sigh as she waved towards her own phone, its screen lit. “Could you turn that off?”

“Sure,” he murmured, holding onto her legs to reach for it. “Do you want to see what it is?” he asked, lifting it over his head to offer it to her–she made an annoyed noise from the back of her throat, and he twisted his neck a little to look back at her.

“No need, it’s just my landlord again,” she muttered, taking the phone from him with a grimace twisting her lips. He watched her as she pressed on the shut off button before throwing the phone aside, pulling her glasses over her head. 

“Everything alright?” he asked, once more softly, moving his hand over the top of her legs.

“Yeah, he’s just–breathing down my neck,” she sighed, sinking a little against the backrest. “Next rent payment is coming up–a few months ago work didn’t pay me on time, so I couldn’t pay him on time, and he started being an ass about it,” she scoffed, fingertips brushing through his locks again. “Texts me every single time, even though I’ve been punctual ever since.”

“Maybe you could not pay him,” the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and he tried to play it off with a shrug that reverberated across her body, too.

“I still need the apartment, Frankie,” she chuckled softly, rolling the tip of a lock between her fingertips. “I can’t just decide to–” when his body tensed, Camila stopped and he felt her shift in her seat, leaning slightly forward. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Frankie’s ears started to burn as he felt her gaze on the side of his face, and he quickly cleared his throat to try and clear the knot that had formed.

“I mean, you’re here most of the time,” he murmured, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. “Half your stuff’s here already, and you’re closer to work, so I just thought–” he closed his eyes, drawing a slow breath in.

Silence wrapped around them, the only sound that of the now forgotten movie and his own heart thundering, blood rushing to his ears. There it was, he thought, the reckoning–he’d fucked up truly this time, had let himself run away with the comfort of their situation, but it had been too much, too soon, too–

“Frankie,” she tapped against his shoulder, voice and touch equally soft as she shifted on the couch and tried to slide from under him. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up, keeping his gaze lowered to where she was crossing her legs and turning towards him. “I need to be sure you’re asking what I think you’re asking,” her hand searched for his across the cushion. “Do you–are you asking me to move in? Here, with you and Alba?”

“God knows she wouldn’t be thrilled to have you here every day,” he scoffed softly, then slowly lifted his eyes. Her glasses were a little askew over her head, eyes wide and eyebrows arched as she let her gaze dart across his form. “I would too, and I know–” he locked his index around her small finger, pulling her hand up and towards his lap, “it’s soon, and quick, and maybe too much, I just thought–it’s convenient, is it not?”

“You’re not asking me just because it’s convenient,” he shifted his hand until they were palm to palm, her eyes moving from the point they were joined back towards his face, a flicker of doubt crossing her eyes. “Are you?”

“No, of course not,” he shook his head, and she moved closer across the couch, leaning in a little–he caught her side with his free hand, thumb rubbing at her waist, right underneath her ribcage. “You wouldn’t have to worry about rent–that apartment is awful, anyway,” he added with a quick, nervous laugh.

“Frankie, honey,” her free hand reached up to cup his jaw, and in doing so he met her gaze fully, drawing a quick breath in before melting towards her touch. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” trailing up her side and arm, he wrapped his hand around hers right against his face, pressing his cheek into her palm. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s a big change, Frankie,” she kept her voice low, yet he still could catch the nervous edge on the tip of her tongue. “For you, for Alba–do you really want me here all the time? It’s–” she must’ve noticed the shift in his expression, the slow retreating of his expectant gaze as his lips dropped into a half-pout. Too much, too soon, too eager, too– “I need to know you’re actually sure. Because waking up next to you is the happiest I’ve been in almost two years–a little more, if I’m being honest–and I can’t get my hopes up if it’s just, I don’t know, a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

He had realized early on that Camila rarely held back–over the course of the months they’d kept seeing each other, he’d pieced together the messiness of her last relationship, the sorrys and moments of silence she carried after it, the uncertainties that still manifested in her sometimes-gazes towards him. A work in progress, she called it, trying to smile it off–but Frankie could see the frustration when she thought she’d done something wrong, and caught herself seizing up for it, searching his gaze for reassurance.

It nearly broke his heart.

Yet it made him understand why doubt was clinging to her like a second skin, why she sought more and more of him as they talked about it.

“This is it for me, Mila,” letting go of her hands, he reached for her waist and pulled her close–as close as he could before she had to move onto his lap. Her hands fell to his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt. “It is a big change, but I don’t mind it–and I can assure you, Alba won’t either. I do think she likes you more than me,” she chuckled softly, bottom lip trembling slightly. “And I’m absolutely sure–if you don’t want to now, then someday else,” he shrugged, squeezing her waist once in reassurance before smiling. “But, even now, I wouldn’t mind coming home to you every night–although actually, it’s you coming home to me, but still–” his sentence was cut off by her lips pressing to his, quick and a little messy in her hastiness.

Frankie’s arms wrapped around her, one hand shifting up across her spine as she almost toppled over to get closer and closer and closer still–he could feel her hands moving from his chest to his shoulders, up his neck, in his hair, shuddering breaths across his lips as she pressed herself into his front, moving onto her knees and straddling him.

“Is that a yes?” he slurred through the kisses, leaning against the backrest of the couch and bringing her with him–her lips trailed down across his cheek, his jaw, and he squeezed her hips once, twice, chuckling. “Mila–”

“Yes,” she mumbled, arms wrapping around his shoulders before she buried her head in the curve of his neck–all the tension left her body, and he blindly reached up to take the glasses from her head, the frame pushing a little into his jaw until he placed them aside. “Frankie?”

“Yes, baby?” he asked softly, brushing through her hair, nape of her neck and down her back. It was easier to confess while hiding against his collar, thumb brushing the side of his neck–his pulse jumped towards her touch, eyes closing as he sighed in response to her words.

“You’re it for me, too.”

And although he had been terrified in the beginning, Frankie knew there was no timeline where, as they kept seeing each other, he wouldn’t fall deeply, deeply for her. He’d known it, deep down, from the day he’d woken up with her in his arms for the first time; from the first time he’d seen her with Alba, and his heart had skipped a beat; even before, he’d known it when they were in his car, and her voice, loud, louder, had brought back to life a part of him he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“Should I see the other guy?” Camila took Benny’s face in her hands as soon as he walked out in the backyard, angling his head down towards her to get a better view of his left eye–bruised and slightly swollen, it made his eyelid droop a little. “Thought you were done with boxing,” she sighed, frowning ever so slightly.

“MMA,” he corrected, and she arched her eyebrows at him, tilting her head slightly to the side. “Sorry–it’s nothing, wasn’t a fight.”

“Sure looks like one,” she let go of him, stepping back toward the table set behind her shoulders–between more food than all of them could ever consume and drinks, was a bucket of ice she fished from, dropping some of the ice-cubes in a dishcloth that was resting at the corner of the table.

“I mean it, it’s nothing, it’s–” he hissed when she gently placed the ice against the corner of his eye, ducking his head. She held him still by the chin, keeping him so that he was looking down at her. “It’s stupid, really. Don’t worry.”

“A dude was being an asshole to some girl at the market and he stepped in,” Will called from behind his brother, and Camila’s eyebrows arched up again, gaze wandering from one Miller to the other–Benny’s expression was twisted, somewhere between guilt and coyness. 

“I see,” she nodded, her head tilted again. “You were being a knight in shining armor, then,” color crept along Benny’s cheeks, warming his face up a little. “Did you get her number?”

“That’s not–” he tried to argue, but bit his tongue the moment he met Camila’s gaze again, holding his breath for a beat before exhaling. “Yeah.”

She broke into a grin, shifting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss over his still bent head.

“Good boy,” she hummed before patting his shoulder. “Keep the ice on, and eat something–both of you,” she said then, stepping back.

“Yes, ma’am,” Will nodded, already half-way towards the laid out table. Camila scoffed, the back of her hand smacking against his shoulder before he could turn with a wide grin, his head bent towards her.

“Knock the ma’am off, Miller,” she pointed a finger at him, accusingly, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight before he lifted her off the ground, making her squeal with laughter despite her best effort. “This is the last time I’m warning you!” she exclaimed, ruffling his slicked back hair.

“Heard that before,” he chuckled, having now to tip his head back. She scoffed, a mock eye-roll before the smile took over again and she leaned her head down with a noisy kiss to his cheek.

“Where’s Santiago? Is he late again?” she asked, resting her arms over his shoulders, legs still dangling in the air. Will shrugged lightly.

“He’s inside with Frankie and his girl,” the moment the words left his mouth, Camila’s posture shifted, straightening her back as her gaze snapped towards the sliding door.

Frankie had gone to open the door while she finished setting the table for the impromptu almost-fully-moved-in celebration, as they called it, and in that moment she could almost catch a glimpse of his shoulders by the kitchen counter, his back turned on them.

“I’m sorry, did you just say his girl?” Will chuckled, and before she could even start wriggling out of his hold, he set her down and watched her sprint towards the kitchen.

“Pope’s not gonna like that,” Benny told his brother, words slightly muffled by the olive pit turning in his mouth and the ice pressing down his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” was his only reprimand.

Inside, Camila all but fell against Frankie, leaning forward as he was mid-sentence while holding onto his shoulders–he smiled right away, hands coming up to brush her arms before tilting his head to rest a kiss against her temple. In front of them, Santi held Alba with her arms tightly wound around his neck, and at his side a woman shuffled on the spot, lowering her gaze a little.

“Hi,” Camila said, interlocking her hands with Frankie’s.

“And this is the lady of the house,” Santi all but sighed, tilting his head to look at the woman by his side. “Although there’s not much on the lady part.”

“Cállate, cabrón,” she muttered in response, and Alba wriggled in Santi’s arms.

“Tío!” she called, enthusiastically–Santi’s eyes shimmered, his smile widening.

“You’re right, sweetie–it’s tío cabrón,” she nodded, her voice slightly lowered as she grinned. Frankie chuckled as she shook his head, while Santi’s face dropped in a deep frown that made the woman at his side hide her smile behind her hand.

“Hey, don’t take her side already,” he protested, looking at the woman from over Alba’s head.

“Oh, no–do take my side,” Camila detangled herself from Frankie–much to his dismay, his hand catching the ends of her hair as she brushed past him to reach the other woman’s side. “It’s nice to have some respite from all the testosterone going around in this house,” she added, leaning in almost conspiratorially. She chuckled, gaze darting from Santi–his expression turned in mock-offense–back to Camila.

“Glad to be of service,” she said, sweet-voiced. “And contrary to what he’s letting on now, Santi’s only ever spoken nicely of you–so it’s nice to meet you.”

“Betrayer,” the aforementioned man mumbled, making Frankie snort. Camila turned to look over her shoulder at him, sticking her tongue out and consequently sending Alba in a fit of giggles. “Camila, I’m warning you–”

“Yes, yes,” she waved her hand dismissively, locking her arm with the woman’s to lead her towards the sliding door, their steps matching–the woman looked back just once, a half-apologetic look in her eyes that was accompanied by a smile nevertheless. Santi sighed, defeated, watching the two head outside, back to the Millers.

“Fish, I swear that if your girlfriend does anything–”

“Not my girlfriend,” he interrupted, his gaze still turned towards Camila. With a roll of his eyes, Santi hit the man on the shoulder with the back of his free hand, regaining his attention with a flinch.

“Seriously? You literally live together,” he scoffed, as Frankie shrugged and reached for his daughter instead. The child all but launched herself into her father’s embrace, still giggling.

“We haven’t discussed it, is all,” at that, Santi rolled his eyes again. “So what? We lived together. Should I call you my ex boyfriend?”

“Very mature,” he tsked, shaking his head. “Don’t you think maybe it’s time you do talk about it? What’s the worst that could happen, she says no and moves back out?” he snorted at Frankie’s growing worried gaze, resting one hand over his shoulder. “I doubt that’s how it’ll go, man. Seriously.”

“So you’re gonna finally do the same?” he retorted, letting go of Alba as she squirmed out of his grip and called for Mila. “Be careful, nena–she’s right outside.”

“What are you talking about?” although he tried playing it off quickly, still an edge remained to Santi’s words–he cleared his throat when Frankie looked back towards him, his eyebrows arched. “I told you a million times, we’re just–”

“Friends, sure thing,” it was Frankie’s turn to clasp his hand over Santi’s shoulder. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Pope.”

Santiago hung back as the man made his way outside, and watched when, as soon as she saw him, Camila’s face broke into a smile, quick to welcome him in her embrace once again. Frankie kissed her cheek, her jaw, murmuring something in her ear with a grin that made her laugh, so loud Alba had to join in from her post on the grass.

At their side, lowering her gaze towards the tip of her shoes, was the other woman, hands falling down her sides with a shy smile before she stepped back slightly–and looked up. Their eyes met through the open door, her smile widening and his own returning quickly, instinctively, and something pulled at his chest–hooked underneath his ribs, brushing the edges of his heart, he felt it tug him forward and outside, unrelenting until he reached her.

“Are you sure about the couch?” Frankie called from the living room, his head turned towards the kitchen where he could hear Camila.

“You already have a couch, honey,” she walked in with the nth box in her arms over the course of how many days, weeks, the branches of the rosemary plant poking out from above the edge, purple flowers decorating some of its extremities. “A bigger, way more comfortable one, actually.”

“But it’s practically new,” he protested, placing his hands on one of the cushions, right by half-asleep Alba. “It’s just a pity,” Camila chuckled, placing the box on the ground and walking up to him. “We could put it in storage.”

“It’ll just collect dust in storage, Frankie,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around him and leaning against his back–he straightened himself as she did, her cheek pressing against his shoulder before shifting onto her tiptoes, hooking her chin over the bent of his neck. “We don’t need it–I got everything I had to. I have everything.”

He sighed, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he rested his hands on top of hers–he could feel Camila’s breathy chuckle against his skin before she lowered her lips to his neck, peppering soft kisses along the edge of the collar of his shirt, side to nape in a delicate brush. 

“It’s a really nice couch,” he murmured, and she smiled against his skin.

“I know, it’s the first thing I bought,” she said softly, moving then to his side–she went under his arm, and he wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her in as she took his hand, locking herself into his embrace. “It looks better here, anyway.”

“Is it too late to ask you if you’re sure about this?” he asked, their fingers interlocking.

“Yes,” she turned her head with a light smile, cheek pressed to his shoulder. “You’re not having second doubts, are you?” she asked then, voice softer.

“Of course not,” his response was immediate, turning as well to look at her–her smile widened at his words, shifting their intertwined hands towards her chest. “Just–making sure you don’t have any, either.”

Camila’s gaze softened, carefully unknotting them to move in front of him–still close enough she had to tilt her head slightly back to keep looking at him, pressing his hand to her chest a moment longer before lifting it to her lips. His free hand rose towards her side, brushing his fingers along her hip as she left a gentle kiss across his knuckles and then all but pressed herself to his front. He smiled when she bumped the tip of her nose with his, half-chasing her.

“No doubt whatsoever,” she hummed before their lips met once, twice, soft kisses that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I never planned on staying here long, I just had to get away from that house, and him,” she shrugged, Frankie’s brows knitting slightly.

I spent so much time during that relationship staying quiet, staying still–he remembered the words clearly from their first morning together, and she’d reconstructed it piece by piece during the following months. Camila counted herself among the lucky ones–her body had never taken the brunt of his boredom, or annoyance. And still she carried some marks.

Still she’d practically ran.

“I would’ve moved in with you on the first night,” she admitted then, grinning.

“Because you liked the house,” he scoffed with mock-offense, and she turned her lips in a half-pout, tipping her chin up.

“Of course. Why else?” he saw her lips quiver with the attempt to hold back a smile, and leaned in to kiss her a little more harshly, making her laugh against his mouth as she brought her hand to his cheek. When he pulled back, she sighed. “Right–maybe for that. And the house.”

“I’ll take it,” he relented with a shrug, followed by an almost sheepish smile–she kissed it off his lips, once and twice and once more, a quiet laughter that she interrupted quickly, slipping out of his grasp before he could even protest it.

“Nena, don’t eat those directly from the plant,” she called softly, walking a bee-line towards the box left behind and Alba, sitting by the rosemary and trying to chew the flowers off the branches. “Here, look,” Camila said, kneeling at her side and plucking some of the small, purple flowers, placing them one by one on Alba’s palm. “My yaya would make candies out of these, but I think they taste nice on their own, too.”

“Can-y,” Alba tried to speak and put the flower in her mouth at the same time, butchering the word–still, with a smile, Camila nodded and mimicked her, placing the flower on the tip of her tongue.

“Yes, can-y,” Alba giggled at the slightly muffled mispronunciation, reaching with her hands towards Camila’s–she gave her another one of the flowers. “You know, if the plant sticks properly in the garden, next year we’re gonna have so many of these,” she added, saying it like a secret.

Frankie’s heart stuttered at her words–next year, we, given as a certainty.

He walked to them both, crouching by them–Camila offered him a flower, which he ate directly from her fingertips, making her scrunch up her nose in mock-disgust while looking at Alba, the kid laughing again and grasping Frankie’s pant leg.

“You sure you want to move it to the garden?” he asked carefully, hand coming down Alba’s head to ruffle her soft curls. The child lifted her arms to wrap them around her dad’s wrist, pulling his hand to her.

“I want it to take root,” Camila nodded, brushing her fingertips along the leaves of the plant. “I found its perfect home already–a great sunny corner. It’ll grow nicely,” she added, meeting his gaze with her voice a little lower. Again Frankie’s heart swelled, and he nodded as he leaned in, nose brushing her hair as he kissed her temple–the rosemary smell clung to her skin, welcoming him home.

next

[esperosisdoeswriting]

Secret Santa!

Heyo y'all, I am participating in @creweemmaeec11's Secret Santa yay!!!! My prompt was from @beanswoo, and I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope they and you'll enjoy reading it just as much!

Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1,123

[Hero] glanced around their roo- cell for what had to be the twentieth time. It was nice on the outside. The walls were painted, the floor was a plush carpet, and the furniture appeared to be made of high-quality wood. It was all a front. [Hero] knew it was all a front. The dresser was just wood glued over hard metal, and the walls were painted cement.

It was a trick, it was always a trick when [Villain] was involved.

They wrung the sheets in their hands as they glanced towards the door. It, too, was wood, or at least it looked to be. There was undoubtedly hard metal under the thin planks and a variety of different sensors and locks keeping the thing closed. The windows must also be bulletproof.

[Hero] nearly tore the bed sheets apart as they felt the walls closing in on them, the air growing thicker and thicker, their impending death looming over them like a ticking clock. They didn’t know what [Villain] planned for them, but they had some ideas.

[Mentor] had told them of the things [Villain] had done to their other students. Awful, horrible things. Some of the students even survived long enough for [Mentor] to save them, but not for very long. [Mentor] said they had high hopes for [Hero], hopes they would surpass their other students, and their failures.

They knew they were letting [Mentor] down, and after everything, they had done for them. They were disgusting, they were a failure, they were nothing but tra-

The door to the room creaked open, and it sounded so much like a real wooden door. [Hero] guessed there was some kind of speaker in the door or next to it, making it seem more realistic.

They caught their breath and made sure their face was neutral, just as they had taught themself for when [Mentor] would check on them in their room after training. [Mentor] hated it when they looked upset.

[Villain] silently entered the room, closing the door afterward, and the creaking sounded different this time. They must have multiple recordings of the creaking.

“Hello [Hero],” they spoke, their voice calm, but not in the way [Mentor]’s was. [Mentor]’s calm sounded hard, measured, and judging. [Villain] sounded soft and almost warry, like they were approaching a wounded animal.

[Hero] hated it.

“Let me go,” [Hero] snarled as they bunched up the sheets in their hands.

[Villain] frowned, but they remained patient, “[Hero]...”

“Let me go right now!” [Hero] shouted, leaning forward in bed, their face flushing hot with anger.

[Villain] raised their hands, their palms held outward placatingly, and it made [Hero] even angrier.

“[Hero], I’m just trying to help-”

“How the hell are you helping me by kidnapping me!” [Hero] screamed.

“I didn’t kidnap-”

“Then how did I get here?!” [Hero] demanded.

“You walked here yourself,” [Villain] explained, and [Hero] felt hysterical laughter bubble up in their chest.

“Seriously?” they felt tears well up in their eyes as they laughed incredulously, “That’s the bullshit you’re trying to spin me?”

“It’s true. Let me sho-”

“Cut it out!” [Hero] screamed, the anger back in full force, “I won’t let you confuse me! I won’t let you! I won’t! [Mentor] taught me better than that!” they screamed at them, their teeth gnashing as [Villain] slowly approached.

“They told me all about you! About all the different things you did to their other students! About what you would do to me if I disobeyed them if I started from their orders and showed weakness! If I-!”

[Hero] stopped as the words caught in their throat. [Villain] held up a tablet so they could clearly see. On the screen… was them. They looked disheveled and dirty. Tears were streaming down their face as they stood on [Villain]’s doorstep. Even from the angle, they could tell they were shivering in the warm air.

“Please,” they begged, “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t,” they sobbed.

[Villain] wore the same face they were wearing now, the pain only being drowned out by the bone-deep defeat in their eyes.

“I…” [Hero] finally spoke as [Villain] paused the video, “I don’t remember that….”

“I’m not surprised. You were really out of it,” [Villain] sighed, “[Mentor]’s little mind tricks can really do a number on people. I’m just happy you were able to get out, to get to me.”

“Why would I come to you?” [Hero] asked, their surprise and confusion laced with disgust that made them feel guilty in a way they couldn’t put their finger on.

“Because you remembered when you were here before,” [Villain] smiled sadly at them.

“I’ve never been here before!” [Hero] shouted.

“Yes, you have, [Hero]!” [Villain] pleaded, “So many times!”

“What the hell are you talking about!” [Hero] shouted.

“[Hero]! There were no other students of [Mentor]’s!” [Villain] urged, “It’s only ever been you!”

[Hero] felt like they had been stabbed, as tears welled up in their eyes. They slowly began to shake their heads, the motion quickly growing rapid and desperate.

“No, that’s… That’s…” they gritted their teeth. “That isn’t possible!”

[Villain] flicked through their laptop as [Hero] kept shouting at them, kept resisting, kept trying to fight against… Whatever was going on. But when [Villain] handed them their tablet once more, a collage of pictures of [Hero] in all the different suits of [Mentor]’s previous students, they finally fell silent.

[Hero] couldn’t move for a long moment. They just stared, desperately searching for the trick, the ruse, the… whatever the hell explanation that could make all of this make sense. That could make everything simple again and could cause [Hero] to wake up back in their cot, where they were supposed to be.

“[Mentor]’s power is memory manipulation, you know that,” [Villain] spoke softly, their voice slipping into [Hero]’s ears as they kept staring at the collage of their own face. “They use it to quicken explanations and manipulate people. Manipulate you. Over and over, and over again.” tears welled up in the corners of [Villain]’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry [Hero]. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you all those other times, but this time is going to be different. I swear it,” they vowed as they wrapped [Hero] up in their arms, knocking the tablet out of [Hero]’s limp hands.

[Hero] sat there, frozen for an indeterminate amount of time as [Villain] held them and stroked their hair in a way that their body remembered even if their mind didn’t. [Hero] didn’t even realize they were crying until the tears began to soak into [Villain]’s clothes and their body began to shake. They buried their head in [Villain]’s shoulder, hoping that would be enough to drown out the sounds of their broken sobs.

[buttercups-song]

Alright, so I’ve seen a couple of hot takes that there is no queerbaiting in the Loki show (and what’s even funnier that mcu has never queerbaited) because Loki is canonically queer… and like… alright so there’s no queerbaiting in spn because technically speaking cas is queer? Queerbaiting is a marketing strategy so even if we ignore what’s in the show, the chemistry between actors and some truly insane acting choices, the Loki show is queerbaiting because of how it was marketed, and especially how the first season was marketed. Before the show aired we were told that Loki was going to have multiple love interests, we were told that sophia di martino was playing loki (and told so in a way that suggested that she was playing ‘our’ loki). There is a part of the soundtrack that is literally named ‘lokius’. Even before this season started airing the marketing heavily focused on the relationship between Loki and mobius, reassuring us that Our Loki would be with Our mobius.

And alright I’ll give them that they confirmed that loki is bi/pan in episode three and let’s ignore that the confirmation was two seconds long, pretty vague, had no impact on the plot nor characters and wasn’t mentioned ever again. Ok. Fine. Honestly my much bigger gripe is with how they handled Loki’s gender.

Which is to say that they fucked up. Despite Loki being gender-fluid in the comics and despite how the show was marketed, the text of the show heavily suggests that both our Loki and Sylvie are cis. Ok so the arrest report in the credit says: “sex: fluid”. Which is completely different from saying (and showing) that Loki is gender-fluid. What is shown in the show (or rather in the credits, which let’s be real almost no one bothers to read) is that Loki’s sex is fluid… which yes he’s a shapeshifter. That’s not representation, they don’t say that Loki is trans, the fans can read it that way, but disney doesn’t have to fear backlash from conservatives because Loki in the show is not gender-fluid, he’s a shapeshifter (who doesn’t shapeshift for some reason). Sylvie literally says that she was born a “goddess of mischief”, every single other Loki is shocked by the idea of a ‘female version’ of them. It’s supposed to be a #girlboss moment but it’s not! It reads like every Loki is a (cis) man! And sure you can have a head canon that they’re shocked that Sylvie is exclusively presenting as a woman, or that Sylvie is not cis but obviously was born a goddess. But that’s not what’s in the text. From episode one when talking about the variant they’re hunting everyone in the tva uses ‘he’ pronoun when referring to them. Why? All they know is that they’re hunting a loki, so if Loki is gender-fluid (or even if their ‘sex is fluid’ as referred to in the show) why assume that the variant they’re looking for is a he? (Probably for the extremely obvious plot twist when Sylvie shows up). I’m actually so mad about this, gender-fluid representation is so rare and they took a canonically gender-fluid character and did what?

There’s so much queerbaiting in the show! And they know what they’re doing! It’s not a coincidence that they’re leaning so much into loki and mobius’ banter! It’s not a coincidence that in the First episode (!) of season two we get a scene in which Loki before pruning himself goes “if I don’t make it back, I…” which is meant to sound like a beginning of a confession! Which was a beginning of a confession last season when it was directed towards sylvie! It’s almost exactly the same scene! But let’s be real, he probably was going to say something like: “if I don’t make it back, find sylvie”.

Why are we still getting this treatment in 2023? (because it clearly pays well) If they didn’t want to give us good queer rep, why market it as such? Loki is queer in the comics, he wasn’t canonically queer in the movies (despite the immaculate vibes). They could have left it alone. I’m sure that many people still would have shipped Loki and mobius because of the incredible chemistry between actors and (let’s be real) that just how fandoms work, but that wouldn’t count as queerbaiting, because again that’s a marketing strategy.

[angel-bubbles]

the hat rule

this has been a doozy and will definitely have multiple parts because i can't shut up about these fools but i needed to get this out into the world >:3 more coming i promise

read on ao3!!

David, Angel, Sam, and Darlin' are going out, sweet little moments ensue :)

Part One - David & Angel

------

“It’ll be fun!” Angel’s voice echoed around the two of them as they dragged the end of the word out. David looked down at them skeptically which only caused their scheming smile to grow.

“I think our definitions of fun are different.”

Angel was leaning haphazardly against the wall of their bedroom pulling their beat up old cowboy boots on while David watched from the door. He hadn’t ever seen them in this outfit, to be honest he didn’t even know they owned boots like that. To his credit, Angel kept them in the back of the closet safely tucked away in a box so they wouldn’t get lost or tossed. 

Once they got their jeans situated they popped up and walked over to the mirror, not missing the way David’s eyes followed them carefully. 

They nodded in approval at the sight of their outfit before spinning on their now heeled foot to get a proper look at him. When they saw that he hadn’t moved even a little bit from his post in the doorway they threw their head back and groaned, giving him the best puppy dog eyes they could muster.

“Come on, I already told Sam you were coming!”

“Oh I know, you haven’t stopped talking about it all week.” Angel sighed and finally made their way towards him. His shoulders were stiff and his eyebrows furrowed, but when his eyes met with theirs there was a certain softness in them. They took a few steps and wrapped their arms around his neck, staring up to meet his gaze.

“If you really don’t want to go, you don’t have to. I know it’s not really your thing.” They said softly. “I can always say something came up. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.” David sighed at their reassurance, letting the stiffness from his shoulders loosen as he gently placed his hands on their hips.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go I just-” He cut  his sentence off with a frustrated growl and shook his head. “I don’t know any of the fancy dances or anything. I’m gonna look stupid.” 

Angel smiled knowingly at the confession and leaned up on their toes, placing a reassuring kiss to his lips. His grip on their sides tightened holding their foreheads together even after their lips had separated. 

“You think Tank knows the dances?” Their voice was lilted with laughter but they managed to hide it as they imagined the two wolves fumbling around on the dance floor. David’s eyebrows furrowed again and he pulled his face back from theirs so he could properly look at them.

“They’re actually coming?” The disbelief in his voice caused Angel to laugh for real this time, but they nodded their head, only causing David to blink owlishly at them, seemingly at a loss for words. “How the hell did you two manage that?” 

Angel shrugged and carefully pulled themself away from him, grabbing his hand in the process and pulling him with them. He easily followed, letting his mate lead him into their shared walk-in closet. Really, if he didn’t want to follow them he could have easily stayed put, but he liked to humor them from time to time. 

“Sam did all the heavy lifting on that one. Plus, I might have let it slip that you had already agreed.” David scoffed a little, dropping their hand as they started digging through his side of the closet.

“Mmm, and when exactly did I agree?” Angel turned with a hanger in their right hand and a pair of blue jeans in their left as they smiled their trademark shit-eating grin and shrugged their shoulders again.

“Right now.” 

David laughed at their expression and shook his own head as he took the clothes from their outstretched hands.

“That took you all of two seconds, you snot.” 

“I’ve been picturing it all week.” 

Their words had him raising an eyebrow over at them only to find them rummaging through the closet again. He slowly changed,very aware of the feeling of Angel’s eyes on him as he did so.

“I know you’re watching, perv.” He said over his shoulder, only to be met with a small laugh from the depths of the closet.

“I know.” They called, only causing his smirk to widen as he pulled on the black shirt. He glanced in the mirror before finding his mate digging around through their clothes.

“Don’t people wear like, I don’t know, flannels and shit to these things?” Angel peeped their head out of the corner they were digging in and let their eyes roam their mates body. David felt his ears warm up from the look in their eyes alone but simply quirked an eyebrow at them. 

Once their eyes met his own again their cheeks were also flushed, clearly forgetting he had even said anything. He laughed a little, trying to hide the butterflies he had in his own stomach as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Head out of the gutter, trouble maker.” 

His words seemed to snap Angel out of their trance and they shook their head and bit their lip to hide their smile.

“Um-” They paused to clear their throat which only caused David’s smirk to grow tenfold, but Angel quickly found their confidence again, playing off the whole interaction like it was nothing.

“Sometimes, yeah. A lot of people will be wearing them and if you want to you can. But, it’s gonna get hot in there. And you already look hot in that.” They said matter-of-factly. David hummed in response, still noting the warmth in their skin but opting to not mention it as they go back to rummaging through their closet. After a few more minutes of watching them destroy their closet he grumbles under his breath, taking wide strides to stop them from their frenzy.

“What could you possibly be looking that hard for?” Angel spun and looked up at him with a frown sitting on their lips.

“I was hoping I had my old hat. I uh, let’s say I borrowed it for simplicity's sake.” They were talking animatedly with their hands, the way they did when a story would devolve into a hundred other stories at once but David couldn’t help cutting in. 

“You stole it?” 

“I didn’t steal it per say, but you know the hat rule. And I was in college, took it off some dude’s head and he uh. He let me keep it.” They wore a proud smile on their face and David found himself groaning out loud.

“You were gonna wear some old fling’s hat?” He said incredulously to which Angel’s smile only grew and they shook their head.

“No. I was gonna make you wear it.” Their tone was light and easy but David felt his eyebrows shoot upwards at the idea. Only to then be surrounded by their laughter as he walked away from them. 

“As much as I would love that,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “I’ll pass.”

“Davey,” they said, dragging the end of his nickname out. They didn’t follow him in to the main portion of their bedroom though, still staring confusedly up at the looming shelves of their closet. “I swear I had it when we moved.” 

The words were spoken under their breath but he found himself wracking his own brain for any memory of a hat. How had they managed to live together for over two years and he didn’t know they had an entire get up just sitting in the closet? 

When Angel finally re-emerged from the closet they did so with a sigh, their body sagging in disappointment. David watched as they came and slumped down onto the bed next to him, plopping their head onto his broad shoulder. 

“Is there a reason you need this mysterious hat?” He said, subtly leaning into the warmth their smaller body exuded. They did their best to shake their head given the position the two were sitting in, their frown cementing on their mouth.

“You’d just look really hot in a cowboy hat.” 

Their words were spoken like it was a known fact, and not them proclaiming his level of attractiveness. The gall of it pulling a laugh that resembled a snort from him. 

“Mhm. Is that so?” Angel nodded before pulling their head up, straightening their spine again.

“I had a whole vision.” 

“One that included your ex’s old hat.” He deadpanned, only causing Angel to laugh in response. 

“Technically not my ex,” David glared in their direction, causing their smile to grow tenfold, “but, I guess yes. In my defense I don’t see any other hats sitting around here!” 

“I could ask Sam if he had an extra hat for you but… you know the rule.” Angel said and there’s a smug glint in their eyes that causes the heat to climb up David’s neck again. 

“Jesus– you are a menace you know that?” But his words were met with a shit-eating grin and he shook his head in disapproval. 

Finally popping up from their spot on the bed they straightened their shirt, extending their hands to David, pulling him to stand in front of them. They wordlessly placed a kiss on his cheek before leaving him standing there, watching them walk out of their room.

Emphasis on watching them leave, entranced by their retreating figure. He would have to be sure they didn't shove those pants back into whatever corner they were hiding in after tonight. 

Sighing he willed himself to move, making his way to the closet. He had boots, a pair that was absolutely beat to hell and back and pulling them on confirmed that they were definitely on their last leg. His dad wore them everywhere and though David had outgrown every other thing he had left behind, the old boots still fit perfectly. 

Growing up he had asked his father a million and one times why he wore boots, and his father had dodged the question a million and two times. Now David thinks he just didn’t have an answer, no real reason why he did. Hell, if someone came up to David and asked him why he wore the shoes he did he wouldn’t have an answer. Because they’re practical? 

Were cowboy boots practical? Did Gabe find them practical? Even wearing them now he found it hard to believe his dad found comfort in them. Maybe it was because they weren’t his own, but they felt foreign to him, like he wasn’t meant to be wearing them at all. 

He found Angel in the kitchen, perched on the counter with a half eaten apple in one hand and their phone in the other. Their feet were swinging a little as they bit into the fruit, not noticing David’s presence. 

Though they must have seen his figure approaching them because they looked up just as he settled himself between their dangling legs. Their eyes practically twinkled when they looked up at him, gently placing their food and their phone down on the counter. 

“Tank has an old hat you can wear.” They lifted their arms to settle on his shoulders, shamelessly looking his body up and down, reveling in how much they liked that shirt on him. He hummed in acknowledgement before tipping their chin up and quickly claiming their lips with his own. 

The air was thick as his hands traveled up and down their body while theirs got lost in his hair, holding him close. The kiss lasted a lot longer than it should have, his lips trailing down the curve of their jaw and latching onto their neck both losing track of time. 

“We’re gonna be late.” Angel’s words were breathless as they finally gave in and guided David’s head to be level with their own again. His hair mussed and his pupils dilated as he smirked down at them watching the way their own face flushed with heat. 

“Tank’s version of ‘on time’ is 45 minutes late.” He said simply causing them to laugh and gently pushing him away from them. 

“But Sam’s version is at least 15 minutes early, maybe they’ll meet in the middle.” David hummed again, helping Angel down from the counter. 

“My Angel, actually worried about being on time? Are you sure you're feeling okay?” The small smile curved at his lips as Angel balanced on their toes and fixed his hair back to how he liked it. Or as best as they could. They were certain he would fix it all over again once they got in the car. 

“I’m excited! I haven’t gone dancing in a long time.” 

“Mhm, you’re just excited to watch me make a fool of myself.” Angel beamed up at him as they regained their balance on their feet feigning innocence.

“Well not just you. I’m excited to see Tank too.” 

David watched as Angel scurried out to the car after their comment, laughing to themself. He couldn’t help but feel a smile lining his own mouth as he watched them.

“You’re such a shithead.” He muttered under his breath, quickly snagging his keys out of the bowl on the counter and following them out the door.