#whenever i see baby pictures i want to cry and then have the urge to reproduce

[dulcetmclaren]

oh my god i’ll cry?

[tetsunabouquet]

Can you write a headacanons of Carstairs Fam? Where they have one more child beside Mina and Kit? 🤍

-Considering Mina as kidnapped when she was young, I imagine Jem would be even more vigilant when they have their third child. -Which is also why shortly after their third child as born, they adopted a puppy of a big breed so it could grow up into their guard dog. -Their guard dog acts like the dorky side-kick to Irene whenever Ty is coming over. It was very amusing to watch Irene teach their dog some basic hunting skills with an expression that seemed to say, 'Just how stupid are you?' -Kit remains protective older brother towards the two. Precisely because his father failed him, Kit's fearful of all things that could go wrong and just wants them to grow up happy. -Their third child is obviously yet another nod to the people they lost. They decided that it would be named Henry if it were a boy, and Charlotte if it were a girl because they really were like parents to Will, Tessa and Jem. -Both Kit and Jem have allowed Mina to do their hair and paint their nails, with Tessa just watching on incredibly amused. If there is one perk about the advancement of beauty products and hair accesoires in the modern era, its certainly this if you ask Tessa. She made plenty of pictures to ensure she remembers these moments forever. -Tessa became quite the photo-taker. Because her first family already died of old age, she knows the heartbreak what's going to await her once they died of old age, so she tries very hard to enjoy the moments whilst they last and prepare herself for once Jem and the kids are gone. -With Kit being a Herondale, he ended up being recruited for his school's soccer team even though he doesn't really cares for the sport. He honestly sees it as a way to have more time to socialize and learn how to be more like a British teenager. Somewhere, a certain Ashdown boy is incredibly jealous, but Kit remains unaware. -Kit always plays soccer with the Lightwood-Bane boys whenever they're coming over. -Mina as an older sister and middle child would generally be the one to explain what Kit, Tessa and Jem think whenever they try to tiptoe around their fears temming from their various traumas in a language the little one can understand. She really takes after Tessa's mature and wise nature and understands why they can sometimes act overprotective or seem to fear things like interacting with the Fair folk. -Because Mina was so young, she doesn't remember being kidnapped and has no reaction outside for the strange urge to start crying when someone brings it up. Kit is very grateful that she doesn't remember it. -Speaking of memories, something Kit would frankly like to forget are the lyrics to Baby Shark. He had to sing it so often to Mina and the baby, that he can sing the entire song even years later. He really hopes Jem was right that all children's songs blurr together through the sands of time. -Whilst Kit and their youngest isn't too musically inclined, Jem was happy to take notice that Mina enjoyed listening to the violin, and learnt her to play when she was old enough. -The Herongraystairs family have attended many a violin performance at the local music theater showcases where young talent would perform. One time, Jem could have sworn he saw the fleeting ghost of Will watching Mina's performance from the back of the theater. -Obviously that wasn't the only time where Will's spirit has been spying on the Herongraystairs family, as he watches over them all the time.

[spoofymcgee]

"Feel free to come and–oof," she huffs, lifting another mangled toaster oven–with her knees, not her back, because she's not an idiot and her back doesn't sound like a Doritos truck crashing into a telephone pole when she sits up straight, Sensei, "Help out, whenever you you want."

"I wouldn't want to take anything away from your accomplishments," Deku says, just this side of too peppy for her to really believe he's checking his nails while saying it.

"I really–ugh–really don't mind," she tells him, tossing the broken metal into the back of the truck.

"No, I insist," he says, and not for the first time she wonders how long it would take anyone to notice if she kicked that pillar he's sitting on and knocked him into the junkyard.

A couple hours, at least. It's not rare for the Number One to go no-contact because he's off in the mountains helping a baby goat out of a bush or something. She could be halfway across the country by then.

"Take a break," he says, five minutes later, and she looks up to find the sun nearly overhead and blinks, because surely it hasn't been that long–she'd started just before dawn.

In any case she scrambles up to sit next to hin when he pats the space, and snatches the protein bar he hands her, not even bothering to check the label before she's chewing.

It's white chocolate, her favorite. Damnit.

"I'm proud of you," he says, out of the blue, so entirely serious.

She stiffens up and ducks her chin into her collar, but it's a big improvement from the first time he'd told her that, when she'd made a noise like a malfunctioning kettle and shoved him into a ditch before taking off.

He'd caught her, of course, and only laughed a little bit, and kept a few feet of distance between them while he told her about the first time his own teacher had said the same, and how he'd bawled enough to nearly flood the room.

He still cries easy–all of Japan knows that, now. He'll stub his toe, or someone will say something nice to him in an interview, or he'll see a baby on the bus and turn into a fountain.

She doesn't get it.

It's been six years since she last cried.

"You've grown so much," he continues, and she wrestles down the urge to bite him to make him stop. "Have you noticed that? Two months ago you would have been on the ground at ten o'clock."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles, a hand in front of her mouth to keep from being gross.

She swallows, takes a deep breath and very pointedly doesn't meet his eyes. "It's not just me. You're pretty decent, you know. For a teacher. So. Thanks."

She doesn't bother to look–she can tell when he's crying silently by the sound of it, by now.

"Whatever," she adds, like her ears aren't flushed a bright red. "Come do some stretches, old man, or I'm going to have to carry you home because you won't be able to move. Uravity will get pictures."

"Coming, coming," he says hurriedly, because Ground Zero is vicious when she posts pictures of him being an idiot on Xitter.

It's hilarious, and she got away with setting him up for it for two weeks and basking in the chaos of Deku doing his level best to wipe the floor with the Number Two hero when be inevitably hunted them down to try and shake some sense into Deku.

She grins at the memory, and starts rolling her shoulders.

[suguspit]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ hangover comfort ⊹

sypnopsis: headcanons + drabbles abt how they would comfort you while you're hungover. includes: gojo, geto, nanami, & toji author's note: first post ! i wrote this while i was nursing a killer hangover from new year’s shenanigans. please don't ever drink.

[ satoru gojo ]

he’s going to make fun of you. sure, he’ll also do his part and nurse you back to health, but expect to hate him during and after the fact.

it’s at times like this you wonder if gojo is actually a sadist. he’ll take a picture to “savor the memory” while you’re leaning against the bathroom floor, death in your eyes and hair a frumpled mess. granted, the image is funny to look at the following days. funny to him. it’s only ever amusing to him. and if it is funny to you, it’ll only encourage him to take pictures of you whenever you look ridiculous.

but, if you genuinely aren’t in the mood to deal with his shit and you tell him as much, he’ll stop. especially if you start crying or throwing up. 

he’ll rub circles into your back while you lean against him, sitting on the bathroom floor with you and talking to fill the silence and take your mind off your pain. it’s in his nature to not really take things seriously, so he’ll usually talk about anything he thinks will make you laugh. 

------

even though gojo says he’s a lightweight, he really isn’t. that much is evident to you when you wake up with an abysmal stomach ache while he seemed utterly unaffected. if he is a lightweight, he must metabolize incredibly fast. you find yourself thinking of either reason with resentment as you lean against your shared bathroom wall miserably. your stomach aches and you feel like you’re about to throw up constantly, but nothing wants to come out. 

“honey pieee~ where are you?” gojo’s sing songy voice rings through the walls of your shared room and only intensifies your migraine. you take a deep breath and fight back a wave of nausea. 

“i’m in the bathroom!” you call and he pokes his head in shortly after. his eyebrow raises when he sees you leaned against the wall.

“why are you on the floor, baby?” he snickers a little, “had too much to drink last night?” you’re about to groan at him to go away when you’re hit with a sharp pang and you double over, groaning. that seems to be enough of an answer for him, and he joins you on the floor with a much too loud and obnoxious laugh.

“go away, satoru-” you try to push him off when he wraps his arm around you but he doesn’t budge. you half expect him to whip out his phone like last time and take a selfie with you in all your misery, but his lack of movement means he must have learned from the previous incident. 

“nuh uh,” he pulls you in closer, “i’m gonna sit with you.” you sigh and rest your head on his shoulder.

“it’s not fair,” you pout as your stomach twists again, “how come you’re not sick? we drank the same shit.” 

“i’m just built different— ow!” you hit his shoulder and push him away with an eye roll. before you can scoot away from him completely he grabs you with both arms, snickering as he says he was “just kidding” and blaming it on his faster metabolism. he holds you like that for the rest of the morning, occasionally rubbing your back whenever the urge to vomit does hit you. 

“my poor, sweet baby,” he coos at you mockingly, but you’re too tired to even hurt him for it. 

[ suguru geto ]

like gojo, he’ll also tease you, but he’s going to be a lot more coddling. you can also expect a lecture or two, but it’s all light scolding while he tends to you. 

even if he’s also hungover, which is actually a possibility in this case, he’s going to ignore his pain and focus on helping you. if you’re throwing up, he’ll hold your hair and rub your back. if you’re laying face down with a terrible migraine, he’ll get you medicine and rub your shoulders to soothe you. 

if you had the energy, he would attempt to distract you with your favorite show or movie (even if it’s something he hates). he’ll listen to you moan and complain whenever the discomfort flares and hold you tighter, kissing your forehead to placate you. 

if this is something that’s happened more than once, he’ll probably already have provisions on hand to give you. expect to wake up with saltine crackers, ibuprofen, and a cup of water already set up on your nightstand. 

------

“my head hurts,” you whine into your pillows while suguru rubs your back soothingly. “i’m never drinking again.”

“i think that’s what you said last time,” he retorts teasingly and you groan in response. your head is pounding and the ibuprofen suguru left out for you hasn’t kicked in yet. when you raise your head he tries to feed you a saltine, but you turn your head away in refusal.

“nuh uh.” you scrunch your nose up as the sight of the food stirs something foul in your stomach, “m’not hungry.” suguru sighs and puts the cracker down, looking down at you with a mixture of fondness and amusement. if it were anyone else (satoru), he wouldn't be as patient, but you were his weak spot.

“at least you aren’t throwing up anymore.” you nod weakly and settle into his arms. 

“but,” he places a kiss on your forehead and looks down at you, “you really should be more careful with what you drink next time.” instead of giving a proper, thoughtful response, you groan again, burying your face in his chest. it really wasn’t your fault that shoko only drank dark liquor.  

“my poor girl,” suguru coos into your ear and puts his hand under your shirt to rub your bare back. his cool touch soothes some of your discomfort, and you keen, nuzzling into him closer. 

“do you want to watch that show you keep talking about to take your mind off it?” you perk up at the mention and nod with as much eagerness you can manage in your state. once suguru has the show playing on your television you two settle into a comfortable silence with him occasionally kissing your forehead. 

“thank you for taking care of me,” you murmur into his shirt as you feel the fatigue beginning to settle in.

“you don’t have to thank me. you know i’d do anything for you.” 

[ kento nanami ]

you WILL be pampered. though there will be a lecture incoming as well. and unlike geto, nanami isn’t going to necessarily let it slide just because you’re sick. 

it sounds stern, but he really just doesn’t like seeing you in pain. he’s quick to give you whatever medicine you need as well as water, and you massage whatever body part you need soothed. 

he COOKS for you. you’re in bed, feeling miserable and disgusted, when the scent of delicious food stirs you and you come to the kitchen to see nanami, apron’d up and whisking away at some eggs. if you weren’t hungover out of your mind you’d pounce on him so quick-

his bedside manner is arguably the best, and he has a myriad of remedies you weren’t even aware of to ease your pain. he’s quick to remind you of this in the future, though. not to hold it above you, but to warn you so you don’t make yourself sick in the future. 

------

“kento?” you call as you leave your shared bathroom, incredibly weak from your battle with the toilet. the liquor evidently won, as proven by the first 20 minutes of your morning spent hurling and heaving. you’re pretty sure you got most of it out, but now your nausea is replaced with extreme hunger and exhaustion. you plop on your bed as you call for your husband again.

“i’m in the kitchen!” he calls back, and you're suddenly aware of the sweet scent of cooked food wafting through the air. you trudge to the kitchen and are met with the sight of nanami shirtless, cheesy apron wrapped around his waist and whisk in hand. you pause in shock as you look him up and down.   

“what- what’s this?” he glances at you briefly before pouring the whisked eggs into the pan. 

“i knew you’d be hungry, so i’m making breakfast. did you want anything specific?” he’s spritzing salt and pepper on your eggs now.

“no… this is more than fine,” you’re still caught off guard as you sit on the kitchen counter and watch him. your heart swells with what you’re sure is a mixture of adoration and love until he turns around to look at you, and you see the “kiss the cook” writing engraved on his apron.

“and that?” you’re laughing now and his lips turn up in a small smile, “why are you wearing that?”

“i thought it would make you smile.”

a few minutes later, nanami presents you with a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. you immediately devour it while he washes dishes. 

“you shouldn’t drink so much in the future,” he finally scolds you after he wipes his hands dry, coming behind you to massage your shoulders. you can only hum in response since your mouth is full with food, but you do lean into his touch and look at him pouting eyes.

“i mean it.” he leans over you to kiss your forehead, and he lectures you about being more mindful, as well as the importance of not mixing your light and dark liquors.

“and,” he finishes, and by now you’ve cleaned your plate, “i hate seeing you like that.” you tell him you’ll be more careful next time and thank him for taking such good care of you, a reassurance that goes unheard as the following month approaches and he’s gently holding your ponytail back from the aftereffects of bar hopping with the other instructors. even though he scolds you yet again, he’s quick to pamper you with the same attentiveness as before.

[ toji fushiguro ]

toji canonically doesn’t like alcohol or get drunk, so your hangover would be one suffered alone. and to be honest, his bedside manner could definitely use improvement. 

it’s not that he doesn’t care about you. he grew up in a household that didn’t give him room to be sick or need taking care of, so it’s in his nature to assume you operate similarly. so when you wake up the following day and dart to the bathroom to vomit profusely, he only really raises an eyebrow and lays back down. he’ll tease you from the comfort of your shared room until you make it clear you want him to take care of you (with toji, you have to communicate upfront or else he won’t get it). then he’s confused.

he isn’t going to say no, but he moves with reluctance as he crouches next to you on the bathroom floor. you may misinterpret his reluctance as refusal, and if you vocalize your hurt feelings because of this he’ll struggle to explain that it’s not that he doesn’t want to- he didn’t think you needed him to.

after you express that yes, you do need him to, he’ll roll his eyes and pull your hair back. he’ll do whatever you ask him to, but don’t expect him the keep his mouth shut the entire time.

------

“bleeck.”  toji’s eyebrows raise from his spot in the bed. he’s listened to the sound of you throwing up for the past 5 minutes now, and it doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon. who would’ve thought your little stomach could have so much shit in it?

“tojiiii-” your voice echoes as you whine from the bathroom, “can you come sit with me?” 

“why would i want to watch you throw up?” he responds with snark you really don’t appreciate in the moment, but he comes regardless, shirtless and disgruntled from sleep. you’re hunched over the toilet when you look up and pout at him. he can see tears welled in your eyes, probably from the discomfort, and he has to resist the urge to grab your cheeks and make fun of you. 

“i feel awful,” you whine pitiably, and he scoffs as he looks down at you. 

“of course you feel awful. you were out ‘til 3 am taking shots of shitty ass tequila.” that clearly isn’t the correct response, because your pout turns into a weak glare. 

“you’re the fucking worst. can’t you comfort me like a normal boyfriend?” 

“tch,” he crouches down next to you and gives into his impulses, pinching your cheek mockingly. “you’re such a baby, you know that?” 

you’re about retort with your own choice words when the bile crawls its way up your throat again, and you hunch over to let it out. he watches you with furrowed eyebrows; the sight is making him increasingly uncomfortable. 

“toji, please,” you manage to whimper once you’ve stopped, “you’re hurting my feelings. if you really don’t give a fuck, i don’t want you in here.” at this, he noticeably perks up and scratches the back of his head.

“of course i care, clearly you’re in fuckin’ pain.” he rips a piece of toilet paper and wipes your mouth with it. once he’s finished he repositions so he’s sitting behind you and pulls you into his chest.

“i’m really not sure what the hell i can do, but tell me and i’m on it.” he begins rubbing soothing circles over your queasy stomach to emphasize his point. the rubbing feels nice, and you let out a weak sigh as you lay your head on his chest. 

“just hold me, please?” you smile weakly as his arms tighten around you, rolling his eyes in the process. “ ‘don’t wanna be alone.”

“sure, sure,” he rests his chin on top of your head, “anything for the princess.”

[n1k1tty]

enhypen reacting to you saying ‘i want a baby’

희승 [heeseung]

- you guys were just cuddling on a rainy day

- and then you came across a video of a cute baby

- and then you just started searching for more. then BAM 💥: baby fever

- HONESTLY I FEEL LIKE HE’D BE THE ONE TO ASK

- like he was watching tiktoks with you too

- and then he suddenly just says “i want a baby”

- and then u were like “ME TOO”

- you both just started watching more baby videos bcs you both love babies very much

- “how about we just adopt a pet. i don’t want to see you hurting for 9 months yet ;(“

- HES SO SWEET😡🤬

제이 [jay]

- u guys were in a cafe just for funzies😝

- and a kid ran up to you and handed you a flower bcs he thought u were pretty

- jay swore he felt like destroying the whole world so no one could harm you after seeing your smile

- after the kid left you were like “babe i want a baby😕”

- literally chokes on his drink

- “how can you say such thing out of the blue😃”

- he knows how much u like babies.

- pls his heart literally aches (in a good way) whenever he sees you play with his nephew 😩😩

- “we’ll have our own family when you’re ready. we’re still young after all” he plays with your hair

- when i tell you, your heart felt like it was gonna explode

- “you better keep your promise😡”

- yea he became ur fiancé like a few months later or whatever 😃🙌🏼

제이크 [jake]

- LOOK 🧍🏻‍♀️ I FEEL LIKE HED TOTALLY AGREE WITH YOU

- he loves children, he’s just bad with them LMAO

- like you went to ur niece’s bday party ur her favourite aunt

- and like u gave her to jake because you had to do something

- AND THE BABY STARTED CRYING LMAO

- jake was so sad cuz he really wants to be good with children

- and then you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him trying to get along with her

- outta nowhere u were like “jakey, i want a baby :(“

- he laughs “i want one too, BUT OUR KID WILL PROBABLY END UP HATING ME”

성훈 [sunghoon]

- LMAO I FEEL LIKE HE’D BE THE TYPE TO HATE CHILDREN

- i can picture him fighting the urge to trip todlers

- but like when he saw you smiling widely when you were taking care of his niece, he couldn’t help but picture a family with you

- and just as if u read his mind you were like “when will you marry me🙄 i want a baby already”

- HE GETS SO FLUSTERED EVEN THOUGH U WERE JOKING

- “soon enough baby. just wait”

- YOU WANTED TO RUN 200 LAPS. BCS BOY DID U NOT EXPECTED HIM TO ANSWER LIKE THAT

- “after all i still have to take care of our baby gaeul— and you too…..i guess🙄”

- whatever 😁 you knew he was head over heels for you

선우 [sunoo]

- either hates kids or loves them LMAO nothing in between

- he knew how much you liked kids so he would often bring you to his family parties so you could play with his baby cousins/nieces and nephews

- his aunts would always remind him how much they liked you every time he brings you

- while you guys were walking home you were suddenly like “sun, can we have babies when we’re married”

- he’s like 😳😧🤭 “of course 😁!!”

- “you promise?”

- “duh😟”

정원 [jungwon]

- AAAAA DONT GET ME STARTED WITH THIS MAN

- bad with babies pt.2

- he’s such a caring person so i feel like he’d like babies tho LMAO

- you came over at his place and his parents weren’t home for the weekend

- (act as if he has a baby brother) and like he literally loves seeing you getting along well with his brother

- but at the same time hates it cuz his brother is stealing u away from him🙄😒

- him and his brother were bickering over who u liked more

- “y/n noona, who do you like more? jungwon hyung or me?😁”

- “you of course!” he gives you a big hug

- JUNGWON GETS JEALOUS LMAO “hey! that’s my girlfriend >:( go get one yourself!” literally hugs u away from his brother

- while they walk you home u were like “won, i want a baby“

- he just laughs “aren’t we still young? i dont wanna see you suffer just yet.” pt.2 PLS HES SO SWEET💔

니키 [niki]

- SO BAD WITH KIDS LMAKDNCOSNFKWK

- you let him hold your niece and she starts crying pt.2

- you start laughing at him cuz he didn’t know what to do

- “y/n stop laughing and help me!”

- the baby immediately stops crying when she’s in your arms

- “bruh, the baby definitely has favourites😒”

- “maybe ur just bad with children.” you laugh

- “i’ll get better once we have our own” he rolls his eyes🙄

- YOU ALMOST DROPPED THE BABY

- “yeah but what if—“

- “no what ifs🙄 you better still be with me after 14 years or the world is ending”

YALLLLLL 🧍🏻‍♀️ ONCE AGAIN THANKS FOR 100 FOLLOWERS. AYO⁉️⁉️⁉️

[heytherejulietx]

need you - sweet pea

↳ a / n - i wrote this because i was sad so it’s just pure hurt comfort (sorry sara) enjoy aaksjqjd

↳ content warnings - hurt / comfort, depictions of depression

↳ 1.3k word count

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y/n really hated living on the opposite side of town to her boyfriend. he had been so busy with the serpents, and as school was out the only time she could see him was when he wasn’t busy. she would have walked across town to meet him, but sweet pea had told her not to; she understood, of course, the south-side of town was a dangerous place. she just wished she could see him more.

especially when she felt like shit.

some days, the times she needed him the most she didn’t even know more. y/n would wake up with a heavy feeling in her chest, a weight that only grew heavier and heavier as the day went on, until she could barely keep herself together in the evening. she felt like a china doll who had been broken and put back together over and over, but never stayed mended for long. sweet pea helped, he helped a lot, but he couldn’t if he wasn’t there.

he picked up on the second ring. he always answers her calls quickly, something that she would have admired if she wasn’t shaking as she held the phone against her ear, barely keeping herself together.

“hey, gorgeous,” she could hear laughter in the background, and realised he was probably still with fangs at the wyrm. “what’s up?”

“can you come over?”

he paused for a moment, and she could picture the little crease that formed in between his eyebrows whenever he was worried. her voice had wobbled when she spoke, and she knew he could tell that something was wrong.

“are you okay?” his voice was soft, like he wasn’t trying to spook her, though still firm in a way that expressed to her his concern.

“mhm, i just really need you here,” her voice cracked, and she had to sniffle through the urge to cry. “please pea.”

“hey, don’t cry, i’ll be there in like ten minutes okay?”

she nodded, even though sweet pea couldn’t see her, and hummed a little. “yeah, okay. i love you.”

“i love you too, i’ll see you soon.”

once sweet pea had hung up, y/n took in a deep breath and laid back across her bed, trying not to cry. the heaviness on her chest was almost unbearable, and it had sat there uncomfortably the whole day. betty had wanted to go out to pop’s for lunch, and she had really tried to have a nice time, but she felt like she could have cried at any given moment and had left early. at the thought of betty’s disappointed frown, the weight on her chest had grown a little heavier.

just under ten minutes had passed before the doorbell had rung. she assumed that sweet pea had sped on his bike to get there, but as she descended down the stairs, eager to be in his arms, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

once she had opened the door, she hadn’t given him a moment to even say anything before she practically threw herself into his arms. his hand held the back of her head as he walked them inside the hallway, and she heard him shut the door before his arm circled around her waist.

“are you okay?” he mumbled into her hair as he pressed a kiss to her hairline, and she shrugged.

“i don’t know.”

“what’s wrong, baby?” he tried again, and her lip trembled as she shook her head against his chest.

“i don’t know.” she repeated, and when sweet pea had heard the thickness of her throat through her words he shushed her gently, and she felt his fingers as they gently dragged through her hair,

“don’t cry, gorgeous, it’s okay,” his lips pressed to her forehead before he pulled away again, and his hand gently squeezed her waist. “c’mon, let’s get you in bed, ’kay?”

only once she had nodded against his chest did he pull away, but even as he walked her up the stairs she kept a hold of his hand. she couldn’t let go of him, not even for a moment. his touch was the only thing that kept her grounded at that moment. his hand remained clasped around hers as he walked them into her bedroom, and he only let it go to replace it with his arm around her waist once he had sat them on the edge of her bed.

“thank you for coming,” she whispered as she buried her face against his chest again, and sniffled against the soft material of his shirt. “i just feel so awful today, i don’t even know why, it’s so stupid.” her throat clogged up with tears and she gripped onto him even tighter.

“it’s not stupid, sweetheart. if you feel sad it’s not stupid.” he whispered into her hair, and she felt as he had tighteend his hold around her frame.

“it is, though,” she sniffled, and she couldn’t keep the tears in any longer as they had started to wet sweet pea’s shirt. “i just feel so useless, nobody else is this sad all the time. not even jughead, and he practically invented being mopey.”

sweet pea chuckled a little at the joke, though he still kept his lips against the top of her head. “you aren’t useless, babe, what you’re feeling doesn’t make you any less than anybody else,” he spoke softly, and had started rubbing small circles into her waist. “i think you just need some down time, okay? i’ll spend the night, and we can do whatever you want tomorrow.”

she nodded against his chest, though despite his words she still couldn’t keep from crying. “i love you so much, i don’t deserve you,” she mumbled through her tears. “why do you put up with me?”

sweet pea sighed, and he didn’t say anything for a long moment. instead, she felt as he moved to pull back the covers of her bed, and he helped her lay down. only once he had laid at her side, and let her curl up into him, did he speak. “do you know why i don’t let you walk to the south-side on your own?” his voice was soft, and once she had lifted her head to lay against his chest, he had started to gently drag his fingers through her hair.

“because you don’t want me to get hurt.” she mumbled, and sniffled as she rubbed her eyes with her sleeve.

“i couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. you’re the one person keeping me sane, you know that?” he asked softly. “sure, i’ve got the serpents, but it’s different with you. you've helped me so much and you don’t even realise it, babe. i need you as much as you need me,” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “i don’t put up with you, i need you. we help each other.”

his arms had lifted to wrap around her body when she sniffled again, and he shushed her quietly as she turned her head to press her face into his neck, above his tattoo. sweet pea was either being patient for a response or he wasn’t expecting one, as he had started pressing more kisses to her hair and shoulder.

“i love you so much, pea.” her voice cracked, but she wasn’t crying anymore, spare her teary eyes.

his arms had tightened around her when she had spoken, and she heard his exhale into her hair before he responded, “i love you too. so much.”

[loneworldgazer]

itching hands

pairings: bonten x chubby!reader

a/n: this was supposed be for december but i'm impatient🕴

warnings: suggestive, bonten

life with bonten series

• × • × • × • × • × • × • × • × • × • ו × • × • × • × • ×

these men will bark at you if you ever had the time to be insecure about yourself

hold on tight to your seat cause i'm sure these executives won't let you

especially these easter egg mfs, you never know what's in each of these peoples' minds

sanzu

he lets a lot of things slip from his mind and specially his comments about you

he ranges from thirsty to intense staring at any part of your body where if i say so, it's gonna be a lot more pg

eventhough he's weirdly obsessive of how you look, he means good! it's just that his lameo ass can't say or spell it out to you without sounding like a pervert

he enters your apartment in search of any of the haitani brothers to pick up their report on the last mission and maybe you so he could easily find the two since they always muted their phones when busy.

at first, he wanted to reward himself with a little something since he did a little running around here and there, why not look into your fridge? he slowly opened it because of instinct and almost fell on his knees when he saw sweet cakes topped with icing. he reached out to it as if it's begging for him to just eat it up and he drooled with how soft it looked but a grab to his wrist startled him when he looked at the person in alarm, a quirk of your eyebrows immediately lead him to explain what he's here for.

"uh searching for haitani- by the way can i eat that-" you wiped his drool that ran down his chin with a tissue hastily, in full exaggeration the bright pink haired man is an absolute sweet tooth. he finally let his eyes set on you and he looked comedic with his wide eyes when he looked down at your soft thighs in the comfy shorts you wore.

you ignored his staring and sighed, pointing to the label of the sweet cake which had rindou's name on it but you changed your mind due to said man pouting and took out the cake and peeled off the label, offering to sanzu who drooled again but he doesn't know what's his drooling for anymore (rindou can always order another cake anyways). you closed the fridge and stretched, moving into the living room to lay on the sofa.

he felt content with his dessert, all he needed was a place to sit and he just felt that the perfect place was between, between, man he couldn't help it but stare at plushiness of your thighs. he wanted to bite it.

"can i lay myself between your thighs?"

a silent staring contest was held maybe, if people were to walk in at the moment but with a smirk you patted yourself.

"go ahead darling"

after a while

"y/n did you ate my cake!?" rindou gruffly yelled out and he didn't know what did he just walked into, you brushing and massaging sanzu's head while he hums and kisses up your thighs with the empty plate near his feet and rindou massaged his temples to not drag the male between your thighs into a body bag.

but he failed so sorry sanzu.

ran walked in with an amused stare when sanzu haven't noticed them yet and y/n laughed to rindou who was starting to march up to sanzu to grab both his ankles.

ran lazily stumbled to the sofa with his legs spread while watching whatever the hell the two were doing when sanzu finally woke up from his fantasies, fly high sanzu🕊🕊

ran leaned in to whisper to you when you secretly recorded the fight, asking why you finally offered sanzu a place to lay when you didn't let him lay between when he asked you so many times. you looked over at him with your mischevious eyes and he knows damn well he needs to do more than just asking.

extra!!:

"WAAAHH Y/N THEY BULLIED ME !!" you don't if sanzu's faking his loud crying or not with tears begin to slip past his cheek when he pointed at the haitanis and rindou had no shame in admitting what he done when his older brother blinked in confusion.

you tried to hold in any chortles or laughter coming out because the pink boy had his worst when rindou bent his leg over his head while muttering how he should've killed sanzu from day one. you held out your arms and he immediately flopped you to the coach when he pushed and smothered into your scent.

the haitanis still don't why you adore that crazed man baby who likes killing people and making them confess their crimes, you said you found it really annoyingly cute that's why you had haru in your arms who nibbled on you like a baby.

just hope that the treatment with haru doesn't go on and on and you actually do something about it instead of kissing his tears away and cuddled with him.

kakucho

he feels disrespectful to how much staring he does to you on a daily basis

the way you walk, your hips popping and the curve of your hip dips makes him go crazy

he wonders if he could just hold onto your waist or just touch onto your hips, he might faint touching the roughness of your stretch marks as if he's been blessed by pure heaven

he's obsessed with how you present yourself to the others

if only he was a little more bolder, he could admire it closer if he just asked (?)

"have you taken an interest in y/n, kaku?" ran's eyes glanced at kakucho's hard staring at your crossed legs and he stopped, scoffing at ran's word but the older haitani had a plan up his sleeves.

y/n sat nearby kokonoi's table doing their own thing, looking like a sweet thing that had kakucho's glued on them that ran couldn't help pointing it out and it didn't help kakucho's poor heart when mikey suddenly interrupted the conversation.

"kakucho, please assist y/n on where's they want to go at the moment" it made kakucho perk up, startled by the sudden job of bodyguard and he looked back at ran who winked at him. no no no this isn't what he wanted, what was he planning?

it's annoying on how this puppy crush of his grew even more worse, your whole personality draws him towards you, making him feel like a kid again because of how nonchalant you are with him. he felt laidback being with you is like the calm after a storm with his work and shenanigans in bonten.

he watched from a distance when you looked over the things on your list, kakucho also gathered some of the things you wanted into a little basket and cancelling some out so you didn't have to get them anymore and you thanked him with your pretty smile.

he scanned the area around him and held himself back from punching when this one creepo think they're being sleak with how they kept eyeing you, kakucho either think he was a pick pocket or a flirt but he kept a good metres away from him to see what he was doing but he was ready to turn towards you if they got any closer.

you turned towards kakucho, waving your hand to come to you and he immediately went, feeling more pissed off towards the person creeping in on you slowly but he felt your rough palm on the skin of his wrist wrapping it around your waist. he unconsciously squeezed around you, pulling you close as he shot a nasty glare towards the person who backed off, seeing the intense look from the half blind which they didn't dare messing with.

you both walk away, heading towards the counter as you laughed behind the palm of you hand; still in position of kakucho tightly holding onto your waist where he panicked when he realized how hard he's latching onto you.

"hah~ you're so-"

still choking on your laughter, he akwardly shuffles to the side in embarassment and it added more fuel to the fire when he remembered how he held your waist and he excused himself before combusting in front of you and went away for a few seconds.

you have to say but you gotta thank ran for this plan, even if the creepo appeared out of nowhere, atleast you got to see how bonten nunber 3 reacts to his dream coming true~

kokonoi

he mostly admires you in silence and gets distracted if he ever talks to somebody

just his eyes trailing down every curve on your body and just daydreams about them (as in like cuddling pls)

the other executives would notice how his eyes are always on you in every meeting youre in and would tease him about it when you leave the room like ran would comment 'so thats where your head was this whole time hm?'

kokonoi love your pictures, he feels creepy stalking your pictures but he can't help but gush into the palm of his hand of your stunning you look, you make him faint whenever you had suprise pictures of you in dresses and he feel like his whole body is on fire.

ran taps the head of his pen to the temple of kokonoi's head and he slams his phone down and put on a poker face, it faltering when he clenched his teeth already knowing what's coming. ran sneered to how much of a simp he was and flicked the back of his head, pointing towards the door of his office; telling him any moment you're gonna come by and koko swats his hand away, knowing the haitani was just teasing him but his eyes nearly bulged out when you actually swung by.

all sleepy and dreamy like, his heart getting squeezed and the older haitani patting you towards koko who unexpectantly had you in your lap, your weight tapping him out of his daydreams as you hugged him tighter.

"my my, tired baby ain't ya?" he put on his proper poker face he got from the back of his desk, trying not to falter when you sleepily ranted on how work was terribly tiring and he patted your back shakily, not wanting to push you off due to extreme nervousness. he joked with you telling that he could just pay you easily if you work under him and you pushed his chest with your head bonk .

"ywou drhon just-mphm-hrmm" him heating up to how close with you works because he was the best heat warmer you could ask for, he felt bad for moving you to the coach but he just needed a comfortable position for you sleep in because you sitting on him? naaah, he's a puddle by the end of it.

the urge to take a picture was really strong so he took out his phone and angle his phone down to catch your drool slipping out of you and smiled feverishly to how dorky you looked.

koko felt like he could fuck up more of his feelings staring at your sleeping face, he rubbed his finger on your fat cheek you smooshed onto the coach and shifted a little in your sleep to adjust the blanket more closer to you. koko's touches were hesitant, didn't want to be a pervert when all he did was touch your soft cheek.

he wanted to just hold you close to his chest and have you against him but his prickling anxiety said otherwise, his awful thoughts and stubborness entertaining the shit out of him. you nearly give him a heart attack when one of your eyes open when he wanted to take his second picture and you latched onto his wrist. koko squawked and you couldn't help but burst out in guffaws to how panicked he looked when you caught him.

if anyone saw this scene, koko surely would die of embarassment and he'll dig his grave himself but unfortunely he will eventually when the blinking red of somebody's recording was capturing every moment of it.

haitani brothers

the duo who makes you nervous with their hard stares on you

these two are also pretty touchy so it's dangerous when they're handsy with one of your body parts

rindou are obsessed with your chubbiness, poking it just to see his finger bounce back; comedically

he loves being close with you because you're so squishy??? the type of guy who plays with your squishiness like you're a stress toy and holds himself back from biting

you're the greatest fridge or heat bag on the off days he haves, just wrapped up in blankets and you makes him sleep like a baby

as discussed earlier, ran wants to his head between your thighs; don't be suprised when one day he felt like he should get killed by them and you reject his acceptance towards death

he's a leg man and likes sleeping on your lap or kissing them or he just does anything with them (if you don't mind)

you just gotta remember these two are menaces right next to sanzu cause they'll bother you about it like forever if they can

after seeing the endless babying of sanzu, rindou turns to his brother who was lost in his thoughts and tapped his shoulder with the back of his hand. he lifted his eybrow, needing a response to how quiet he became and ran gave him a sly smile.

"you look at y/n like you wanna eat them up" ran shrugged, placing his elbow on rindou's shoulder as he slipped a comment on how he can eat y/n in other ways while rindou scrunched up in disgust. sanzu then emerged right next to rindou, telling them to give their report; damn well distracted when you started brushing and massaging his head a few moments ago.

rindou pointed towards the window, telling sanzu to fetch the files in his car while 'lightly' threatening him to buy another cake for him and the pink haired boy waved him off as if his threatening didn't give him flashbacks to how rindou almost squeezed his organs out of his ribcage when he looked at the empty plate.

when sanzu disappeared out of the house, rindou pulled you by the waist and onto his lap. squeezing your fat and kissing up your neck, he grazed a sweet spot but you swatted him telling him what's gotten into him. ran lay his head on your lap and looked like a satisfied brat when you look back at him then his brother all confused like.

rindou couldn't spare anymore time so he whispered in your ear, telling how much of a nuisance his older brother was and pleaded you to let him do what he wished to do. ran quirked his eyebrows, leaning up to kiss you while you teased him more by placing a finger on his lips.

"using your brother as a way to get me to do your thing instead of asking me in the nicest way? how cruel haitani, don't you know how torturous it is for your brother to put up with you?"

he smirks, knowing how much of a tease you were and feigned his sigh. rindou clamped his hands over this ears to not hear whatever the hell is this and tilted his head comfortably on your neck.

you shifted off rindou's lap, letting the man going after your sweet self place his head on your tummy as he happily shifts himself to a tiny nap to wait for sanzu to get back from whatever he got himself into because they could hear him shouting at the phone when he was unlocking the car door.

you looked over at rindou and placed a finger on your lips, smiling with your eyes closed when you don't want to disturb his sleeping brother in bliss.

ran just doesn't need to know rindou had his many turns sleeping with you this week compared to him~

mikey

he likes sleeping on you, his titled pillow he seeks for at the end of the day

he usually goes to you whenever he has a hard time sleeping and you try your best to advice him on how he should take care od his eyebags and weak body

he likes listening to your whispering before he goes to sleep so he asks you to talk more (command maybe)

"mikey..?"

"mph?"

"please i need to get up"

he uses your entire body as a pillow to swing his leg over ._. . from the very start, he makes you worried that you might've done or said something wrong to him but his thoughts were completely filled with how he can melt into you and be a handy pillow for him if he can't sleep easily.

to break the ice of what he thinks of you, you hummed quietly and awfully close to him on why he was staring at you but he completley dodges the question, rather he wants to show you why he's staring so he asks if he can touch you. he was uo close and personal on the first into with you but he didn't have bad intentions.. because afterwards you were legit cradling him.

sanzu was raising his eyebrows teasingly when their boss was sound asleep on your shoulder and you run your hands to his hair while glaring at sanzu to not make any noise. kakucho tried putting a straight face on but it's complelety leaving him when he heard his boss sleep talk.

he was babbling nonsense to you which you tried to reply to him but his mouth was jammed shut because there was some point where he got mad at you for not replying and sanzu was rolling on the floor and kakucho had to walk out to laugh with sanzu, dragging the pink hair out of the office. you cooed at him to relax instead of thrashing back and forth and he stopped, planting his face into your neck which makes you feel really tickled.

you're just grateful he's getting some sleep and you kissed him good night and a faint smile shows up on his face when you hugged him tight.

(and the other executives in the other room cracking up about mikey and you NSBJSBD)

akashi

he likes carrying you, stealing you away from the other executive when they're disturbing you

you can't feel insecure with this man because he was the dirtiest way with his words that he whispers to you that can turn any guy or girl red

he'll surely gouge out any prying eyes that mock or stare at you for too long

"why cat got your tongue?" your mouth agape when he was busy doing pushups on the mat and his back muscles flex even more when you came by, the smirk on his face didn't help making you flustered while you sat near him. panicking on the inside, he stopped for a water break and sat next to you.

you prayed to not shake so visibly becaue this hot ass man right now makes you lose all sense of human nature with how big he was, he placed his bottle down and shifted closer to you. bending down a little to arch his back to crack a little, he said he needed you on his back for his pushups. he can easily see the confusion you had on your face and he chuckled, getting up to begin and he usher you to start climbing on his back.

"cmonnn~ i'm strong, you're afraid i'll drop you?"

this man wanted a death wish but you think you'll die first because of how much of a tease he was, his back was kinda comfortable so you tugged on him like a koala, he called you needy and he says he's right you'll enjoy it. enjoy what exactly? too scared to ask this man because of the potential of a heart attack.

it becomes a daily thing to be honest, just having you on his back to flex off his strength that you were impressed that he didn't break and kept his composure. he held you close or carries you on his back cause he wants to, running away from the others who were fighting over you.he was a dangerous man because he could easily take your breath away with how secretive he is.

heck, i think he just did.

tag tag: @lucylicious , @turksueme , @haruchyio , @fyotituti , @coconois , @gyros-cum-sock , @ashrakat-lovesbaji , @dragon-chica

[bratkook]

almost. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost, right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, baby angst, smut word count. 6.4k warnings. two idiots!!, pining, masturbation (m. and f.), use of vibrator, accidental voyeurism?,  more feelings come to light!! summary. jungkook tries to be the best wingman he could be in your new venture after your breakup. he could do it, right? note. part two of not yet, some more feelings are exposed, please don’t hate oc she is but a pendeja that doesn’t see the obvious feelings jungkook has but she has good intentions i promise<3 there will most likely be a final part,,if you guys are into it lmao okie bye

The cool summer breeze flows around you as you’re sitting under the shade, eyes focused on the chaos of runny yolk and hashbrowns that is your breakfast. Jungkook on the other hand, is focused on you. His signature yellow shades block out the sun reflecting from passing cars, concealing his eyes just enough for you to not see him blatantly staring at you while you stuff your face. 

The charmed smile he has falters slightly when you look directly at him, hashbrown lingering by your lip as you repeat his name. “Sorry, what?”

Your brows come together as you smile at his zoned out state, something you had grown fond of in the years of knowing him, always enjoying the small dazed look that graced his face whenever he was lost in his thoughts. His lips push out slightly in question, curious eyes wondering just what you could have been asking him. 

“I was saying that I think I’m giving up on crushes and love.” You say it so easily, mind made up as you grin at him before continuing to shovel hashbrowns into your mouth, only pausing to take a sip of your iced coffee. 

Jungkook tries his best to seem unaffected, nodding along in interest as he takes a steady bite of his own food. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a look around at the people surrounding you: friends having breakfast together and snapping photos, couples feeding each other food with smiles on their faces, a lone man with his dog perched on the seat across from his while he worked on his computer. You briefly wonder if all of them, even the dog, have better luck with love than you do. 

“I think I’m cursed,” you continue. “All of my exes have been assholes, and I’ve always been too blind to see it until it’s over and I’m left crying over Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams.”

“Maybe you’re just looking for love in the wrong places,” Jungkook shrugs, internally screaming because he’s who you should be looking at if you wanted love. 

Not to toot his own horn, but Jungkook liked to think he was a good guy, a great boyfriend even. His previous track record of relationships could attest to that, all of them ending on mutual terms, still friendly and civil with each other. He’s almost certain if there was a Yelp page for him it would be at least 4.5 stars with comments raving about how great he is, even little anecdotal touches about how he always gave away his hoodies or offered to cook breakfast. 

He was a god damn catch, why couldn’t you see that?

“Maybe prince charming is a lot closer than you think,” he grumbles out, stabbing his omelette with a little more force than necessary, fork clanking against the plate. And when you gasp in realization he freezes, slowly looking back up at you and seeing the way your eyes widen. 

“Wait, maybe you’re right!” Your hand shoots across the table, gripping onto his forearm and it sends a shock throughout him, skin tingling at your touch. “You know that coffee shop below our building? That cute barista always puts a heart next to my name. Do you think I should ask for his number?”

Jungkook blinks once, slowly twirls his fork in his hand and blinks again before staring up at the sky, mentally asking why he couldn’t just go out and say it. “Hm, I don’t think you should.“

With a defeated sigh you retract your hand, slumping back into your seat and grabbing your iced coffee once more, stirring the straw and ice around as you nod. “True. What if he feels obligated to give it to me just because he doesn’t want to get fired in case I go all Karen on his ass.”

That wasn’t why Jungkook had said not to, but sure, that works too, so he hums along. 

“I bet he draws hearts on all the other girls cups too.” You huff, playfully wiping a tear under your eye with a smile. 

“I’ve actually—“

“You know what I—“

You both freeze mid sentence, Jungkook’s cheeks tinted a light pink as he stutters on his words, wide eyes staring at you as if he had caught himself before you cut him off. But as you’re about to tell him to go on, he waves you off and urges you to speak first. 

“I was just gonna say that maybe I should go through that wild phase people usually go through after breakups.”

He sets his silverware down on the plate and sips his water, giving you an odd look. “Wild phase? Like you wanna dye your hair red and get bangs?”

“No,” you cackle, ruffling a hand through your own hair as you picture yourself with that combination. “I should just go out and hook up with people. I feel like I’ve either been in a relationship or entirely single, so it could be fun right?”

“Uh, maybe...” he trails off, rolling his lips together in thought, not exactly fond of hearing you say that when he had felt the confession about to roll off his tongue. He takes a slow breath, trying to see this from a neutral point, the point of a supportive friend wanting to help you get over a breakup. 

“How do you go about it?”

“Me?” he chokes, pointing at his chest as if there was magically some other person you could be addressing. 

“Yes, you. Need I remind you, we share a wall between our beds.” You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face shows that you’re speaking of this lightly, not entirely annoyed by the fact that you had heard Jungkook during his own fair share of hook ups. 

He’s not ashamed of it, but considering he never really brought up being able to hear you, he thought you’d pretend to never hear him. It wasn’t too often that he had a girl over, the number of hookups only increasing after you got with Hajoon and loosely cut ties with Jungkook. But from what you had heard—and seen thanks to your nosey self looking through peep holes once they left—it was very rarely the same girl. 

So to you, Jungkook was a pro at the art of hookups. 

“Right, sorry,” he grimaces, a sheepish smile on his lips as he wonders just how many times his activities kept you up at night. 

“It’s fine, consider us even.” A teasing laugh follows your statement, enjoying the flustered look on his face, how his cheeks get even darker in embarrassment. Jungkook was used to the two of you talking like this, neither of you having a filter especially when it came to sexual aspects, but he hadn’t had a conversation like this since before you got with Hajoon. It would take some getting used to again. 

“So, give me the tips. Where do you find people?”

Jungkook leans back into his chair, arms stretching out on either side of him, short sleeves of his black tee bunching up and revealing more of his tattoos and the rippling of his muscles. With a small laugh he rakes his hand through his fluffy hair, giving you a small smile. “Honestly? Anywhere. I’ve gotten girl’s numbers at the gym and at coffee shops, but bars are the best bet for something quick.”

“Ugh, fuck you and your pretty privilege.” 

“What?” he guffaws, smiling wide and showing you his adorable smile as he laughs loudly, not caring about the attention he draws to your table. He doesn’t even realize how the table full of girls is now trying to discreetly stare at him, because his eyes are on you. You see it though, and it further proves your point. “What the hell is pretty privilege?”

Your wild hands gesture towards him, a look of disbelief on your face as you do so. “You! Of course girls line up to hand you their number, have you seen yourself? Pretty privilege,” you jab your fork at him in time with your final words, a smirk on your glossy lips. 

Jungkook feels his confidence grow at your casual compliment, tongue prodding at his cheek as he stares down at his food, trying not to smile too hard. You thought he was pretty, that was a win in his book. 

“C’mon,” he teases, foot gently nudging your leg underneath the table. “You could totally score someone's number. Plus there's always apps if you just wanna test the water.”

You give your plate a contemplated stare, “Sure, how hard could it be?”

Admittedly, the answer to that question was: not hard at all. You had met all your previous boyfriends in person, through mutual friends or shared classes back in college, never once dipping your toe into the world of Tinder or Bumble. Who knew all it would take was a couple of selfies and the strategic body shot to have boys circling around you like some new-age, slightly filthier version of rapunzel. 

Jungkook knew though, not at all shocked by how quickly you get a match the following day when he’s at your place. His eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, helping you beat a level in your favorite game that you had been stuck on. But the second you gasp as if you’ve won the lottery, he pauses the game entirely and gives you an odd look. 

“What?”

His answer comes in the form of your phone thrusted in his direction, lit up screen displaying your profile picture and the one of the boy you had just matched with. Jung Hoseok. Jungkook’s eyes narrow as he reads the name, trying to remember it in case he somehow had a friend in common that knew all the dirt on him. 

He has a similar pair of yellow shades on his own head, thicker black rims around them and a charming smile on his face. Jungkook chuckles to himself. Yellow shades? How original. 

“What do I say?” you question, eyes looking nervous as you wiggle the phone in his face. The small white bar beneath your match urges you to start a conversation, and coming up with the right words to say makes you overthink it all. 

“Just say hi and tack on some cute emoji. It’s not that hard,” he laughs, pushing the phone back at you. Jungkook knew you could start the message off any way you wanted and this Jung Hoseok would eat it right up. How could he not, the alluring smile in your profile photo would draw anyone in. 

“Okay, I did it.” Your phone is instantly locked and chucked aside in an attempt to be forgotten, choosing to grab the remote out of Jungkook’s hands for another distraction. It only lasts a brief second before you’re killed by the boss Jungkook was trying to defeat. 

“Really?” Jungkook huffs, yanking the remote back into his hands, needing a distraction himself. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were searching for a fuck buddy while he sat beside you. How crazy would it be if he suggested being your fuck buddy, offered to help you through this so called wild phase you were searching for. 

No. That’s not what he wants. 

Would he enjoy it? Sure. But he could already imagine how much worse his heart would hurt if his feelings came to light and yours were non-existent. That is if you’d even agree to it. 

“Relax, he’s probably thinking of what to reply.”

You make a noise of disagreement, fingers itching to unlock your device to see if it was true, slowly inching towards it until you finally grab it and go back onto the app. Jungkook just chuckles as he goes back to helping you with your game, not wanting to look at you as you giggle at your device. He could already imagine what this guy was telling you for you to turn into a giddy mess not even two minutes in. 

He tunes it all out, eyes focused on the screen, fingers gripping the remote with a little more force than needed. His concentration helps him though, finally passing the level you’ve been stuck on for the past two weeks. 

“You’re welcome,” he sighs, making a show of stretching out and sending you a smile, having it falter slightly when he sees your eyes still focused on the screen of your phone. With a frown he looks back at the television, saving the game before turning it off altogether. 

Once he gets up from the couch, making his way over to the media console to store the remotes, is when you look up at him. “You’re right, this is easy!”

Jungkook doesn’t feel the usual pride that comes with being right, but the cheerful look on your face prevents him from feeling salty. Coming back towards the couch, he sits beside you once more, facing you as he rests his elbow on the back cushion to lean on. “Told you so.”

He keeps that same smile on his face as you mention how quick Hoseok was to ask you out on a date, even as you bring up the fact that this date would be at his place, and Jungkook could decipher netflix and chill any way some greasy boy tried to conceal it. 

“I hope he knows I don’t want anything serious,” you mumble, chewing on your fingernail as you scroll through the messages. 

Jungkook could almost laugh at how blissfully unaware you were of the piranha infested water that was the great sea of Tinder. Of course this yellow sunglass wearing wannabe version of him knows you don’t want anything serious, why else would he be so quick to invite you over with the cheeky excuse to watch movies. 

All he can do is shrug as he stares at you, lips pressed together in an effort to not say something that would totally ruin everything. Instead, Jungkook does everything he can to be the best version of a wingman you could get. He tells you the ins and outs of hookups, how you should definitely not text him the minute you leave his place and tell him you had fun, don’t talk about anything super personal involving family or your work, and if he doesn’t offer to go down on you but expects a blowjob he’s a loser. 

It’s solid advice that you mentally jot down, subjecting him to further questions your mind comes up with and even asking him for help on an outfit via text the night of your hangout with Jung Hoseok. 

Jungkook stares at the photos for a little too long if he’s being honest. They weren’t spectacular selfies that you had taken much effort for, their sole purpose being showing off the outfit, but the way you look so focused as you snapped the shot had him zooming into your face and smiling like an idiot. When you double text him with a long line of question marks he snaps out of it, deciding on the second option you picked of mom jeans and a cropped shirt. Cute and casual, and definitely something Jungkook preferred, but he’d never tell you that. 

When you finally text him a thumbs up and tell him you’re on your way out he just hearts the message before locking his device and trudging to the living room. It’s not often that he wallows in self pity, spacing those days out so far he barely remembers them. But they usually went exactly like this, ordering a large meat lovers pizza with extra cheese, drinking far too many Mike’s hard lemonade—because despite how much they made his stomach hurt they were tasty so he didn’t care—and binge watching his comfort show: Modern Family. 

But even as he sulks on his couch, practically sinking into the cushions with horrible posture and a slice of pizza resting on his chest, he can’t find it in himself to chuckle at Cam and Mitch’s usual banter. He’s too busy thinking about which movie you’re currently watching, if you were watching it. Who’s Jungkook kidding though, you were totally getting your guts rearranged right now. 

Taking an aggressive bite out of the crust he frowns and raises the volume up on his television, attempting to drown the mocking voice in his head calling him a loser for not admitting to his feelings. He knew this, knew he should have said something when he wanted to at breakfast, but Jungkook was afraid that if he confessed as you were talking about hooking up, that you’d see him as taking advantage of a situation instead of being genuine. I mean who wouldn’t? You say you want something casual and suddenly he’s spilling his heart out and you’re supposed to believe he’s not some pig trying to butter you up. He didn’t want to get labeled as a creepy neighbor after the good times you’ve had. 

“So stupid,” he grumbles to himself as he takes another swig, the last drops of the alcohol hitting his tongue with a tangy aftertaste. As he sits up to place the empty bottle onto his coffee table his muscles ache, neck stiff from the unfortunate position it had been subjected to for the last three hours. With a small huff he’s rolling his shoulders, reaching for his discarded phone to see the time—and also check if you’d sent him some SOS text—but he finds nothing besides the bright numbers indicating that it was nearing midnight.

In true pity party day fashion, he doesn’t even bother cleaning up after his mess, just tossing the dirty dishes into the sink to be washed tomorrow when he would force himself to be in a better mood. Instead, he grabs a water and his phone and waddles into his bedroom. 

The moonlight illuminates the space enough for him to keep the light switch off, undressing from his crumb covered sweats and shirt, choosing to remain in his boxers as he slipped under the cold duvet. The sheets feel fresh against his hot cheeks, flush from the alcohol, cooling him down and making his body relax. 

Jungkook knows he should sleep, needing to be up early tomorrow for work, but he can’t stop his mind from wandering into dangerous territory. His buzzed brain has no qualms imagining exactly what you were doing right now, wondering if you’d be the type to act shy at a guy’s house for the first time, if you’d initiate the first move or not. Jungkook had only seen it up close once under the flash of strobe lights and the haze of alcohol, but he can still picture the soft smile on your face before you go in for a kiss, and he grumbles under his breath when he realizes that he wouldn’t be the one kissing you tonight. 

What he doesn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be the one getting kissed tonight either. The Jung Hoseok you had perceived through Tinder, assuming he was all casual and DTF with his netflix and chill suggestion, had been anything but. What you thought would be a steamy night, ended up becoming a nice dinner and comedy watched, morphing into some version of game night where you discovered he was a little too competitive than you were used to. The only action you got was a kiss to your cheek as he walked you to your car and a promise for another date. A promise you would not be keeping. 

So as Jungkook lays in bed while his thoughts turn into some fantasy of you moaning out his name, you shuffle into your bedroom and slip into your pajamas with a defeated sigh. You had already texted your best friend telling her what a bust tonight had been, deciding to just tell Jungkook all about it tomorrow because you knew he was most likely fast asleep now. And as you settle under your own covers, inches away from Jungkook with only a wall seperating you, you decide to just call it a night and pretend it never happened. 

Just as you shut your eyes, nuzzling into your pillow, you hear the first moan come from behind the wall. A small cry of despair escapes you as you bury your face into your sheets, tugging them up and over your head to block the sound of Jungkook getting some action the same night you had been left high and dry. Of course he would, assuming you’d be getting the same treatment at your date's place, why wouldn’t he take advantage of your absence and not have to muffle his partner’s moans the way he usually did. 

You’re just going to ignore it, until you hear a moan that sounds strangely like your own name. Maybe it's wishful thinking on your part, your horny brain deciding to pretend that Jungkook was calling for you instead of whoever he was with. It might be a little wrong for you to have that fantasy of your neighbor, but you aren’t blind. He’s hot, and adorably sweet, the perfect package for any girl he tried to swoon. And judging by the cries you’ve heard of lucky girls prior, you know he was good in bed. 

You’re just desperate now. That’s the excuse you tell yourself as you slowly settle onto your back, feeling your body warm up when you focus on his muffled groans, desperate and needy. As your hand slowly slides down your shirt, you shut your eyes, biting down onto your lip to muffle any sound you could make when your fingers slip underneath your pants and past your underwear. 

Jungkook on the other hand doesn’t care about his volume. His boxers are tugged down his thighs, knees bent as he slowly ruts into his sticky palm. His hand is tacky with the lube he had messily squirted on, thick cock glistening in the light coming in from his window. He can’t look away from it, mouth dropped open as he groans, imagining it was your hand tightly wrapped around him, your spit covering his cock instead of that strawberry flavored lube. 

“Ah fuck,” he moans, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back onto his soft pillows when his thumb rubs along his slit. It continues to leak beads of precum, quickly wiped away to join the mess on his cock when his hand slides back down and squeezes along his base. 

You hear that loud and clear, and when the female voice you’re expecting never follows, you realize he must be taking care of himself. It makes you feel a little less guilty now as your fingers trail along your slit, collecting the slick coating your folds before you softly circle your clit. A choked gasp fills the air at the small sensation, your body already wired after having expected to get some action tonight; it totally had nothing to do with your hot neighbor jacking off inches away from you. 

With your eyes fluttering shut, you strain your ears to make out any other noise, muffling your own groans with a hand pressed against your mouth. The bed creaks lightly underneath you as you roll your hips into your hand, getting into a smooth rhythm that makes your body buzz. 

Slowly, your imagination runs wild, and you wonder just what Jungkook was thinking of as he did this. Was he watching some porn as he did it, using his own filthy thoughts to push himself to ecstacy, or was this just something he needed to do to be able to sleep? 

“Shit, so good,” he groans out, voice raspy, but you can sense his desperation through the drywall. It’s what has you sinking a single digit into your drenched entrance, biting down onto your lower lip when you feel the glide of your walls as you start to thrust into yourself, easing in another and mewling at the slight stretch. 

Jungkook would absolutely give his left leg to know what your pussy felt like, he didn’t even care how disgusting he sounded by admitting that to himself, it was true. Blame it on the hard lemonade that made his stomach ache and his mind unfiltered, but he could almost visualize how you’d look above him, could practically feel the warmth of your core wrapped around him, dripping down his length as he fucked into you. 

He knows you’re loud in bed, never being one to conceal your cries of pleasure and he would die happy to hear his name come out of your mouth as you creamed his cock. But for now, his hand would have to do. 

His lids feel too heavy, jaw slack as the pleasure flows through his body. The wet squelch of his palm fills the room, mingling with his pants and groans, air growing thick around him. It’s been a while since Jungkook had jacked off, and even longer since he’d been able to do it shamelessly in bed without the fear of you hearing him, but now that he thought you were gone he can’t find it in himself to cover his mouth or groan into his pillows like he usually did. 

The pent up frustration fogs up his mind, cranks the lust up to 11 until his free hand is gripping his sheets beside him, bed frame creaking as his thrusts speed up. The thuds of his headboard hitting the wall come from behind you, a choked moan blending in with it, and it has you scrambling for your bedside drawer. 

The pajamas you wear get yanked off your legs and tossed aside after you grab your trusty vibrator, settling onto your back once more with huff. All it takes is a press of a button for the device to come to life, buzzing in your hand as you trail it up your thighs. A gasp escapes you when you pass it over your mound, brushing against your clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper when you finally press the vibrating head directly onto your sensitive clit, legs spreading further apart as you increase the intensity. You could clearly hear the raise in Jungkook’s moans, and that's when the first irrational thought pops into your mind. 

How easy would it be for you to head over to his place and deal with both of your problems. Surely Jungkook wouldn’t have an issue with you offering to suck his dick, wouldn’t mind letting you sink down onto him if it was just a friendly favor. 

The little devil on your shoulder tells you it would be mutually beneficial, urging you to get up and walk to Jungkook’s with the vibrator still in your hand, but you can’t. This alone felt like enough of a dirty secret, a secret you’d have absolutely no problem keeping because although you feel slightly ashamed, you couldn’t deny how turned on you are. 

The flashes of all the times you’ve heard Jungkook with other people play in your mind, the screams of his name that he tried to muffle, pleas for him to go faster, the resounding smack of his palm on flesh that always left you wide eyed when you heard it. And you start to wonder if maybe you’d be into that, the feeling of his large tattooed hand connecting with your ass, gently tapping against your cheek for you to open up for his cock. 

That fantasy is like the first ember needed to start the fire inside of you, spreading uncontrollably until you’re bucking into your vibrator, teeth biting down on your lip to keep any potential moans of his name from slipping out. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, the same fire burning within him. Maybe your minds are linked telepathically, his thoughts gravitating to the same filthy fantasy you had. Jungkook was very much an ass man, knowing very well how good your butt looked in jeans from how often he stared at it, he could only imagine how good it would look as he fucked you from behind. Picturing the way it would bounce back from the force of his thrusts, eyes glued to the way you’d soak his cock, mimicking the tightness of your walls with a firm grip of his palm. 

Jungkook can sense his orgasm approaching, leaves his chest feeling tight as he pants, legs gliding along his sheets for leverage to continue fucking into his hand. You’re not far off either, vibrator set to the highest setting you can practically feel your bones rattling, free hand slipped under your shirt as you pinch at your pebbled nipples. You’re both on the brink of falling over the edge, the same question playing in your mind: where would you want Jungkook to cum?

As his moans get breathier, whiny in a way you’d never imagine them to be, you mentally decide that you’d want him to cum inside of you, wanting to see the way his cute face would twist up in pleasure as he filled you up. Jungkook hopes you would, throwing all responsible thinking aside for that sweet moment of ecstasy and the mental picture is enough to finally push him over. 

“Ah shit, baby,” he cries out in his room—thankfully having half the mind to not cry out your name as he came—eyes rolling back as his cock twitches in his palm, ribbons of cum splashing onto his stomach and chest. The warmth hits his skin, more droplets continuing to leak out as his palm milks his orgasm, stomach hiccuping and back arching from the stimulation. 

The choked moan is what has your own orgasm washing over you, your palm slapping over your mouth so hard you know you’ll feel the ache later but you don’t care. A muffled gasp blends with the buzzing of your toy, thighs tensing up as your body tingles and writhes around on your sheets. 

The only thing you can think of is Jungkook, the charming smile he’d give you when he listened to you rant about anything, his annoying habit of rolling up his sleeves to show off his muscles, the cute scowl on his face whenever you managed to beat him at Mario Kart, and the soft feeling of his alcohol coated lips on yours. It leaves you feeling warm as your orgasm flows through you, lying limp on the bed as you mewl at the sensitivity. 

When you realize your thoughts have strayed from ‘pure sexy Jungkook fantasyland’, and switched over to ‘Jeon Jungkook your adorable neighbor’, your eyes go wide, finger immediately going to turn off the vibrator. In your haste to shut it off, you click the wrong button, changing the pulsing settings and nearly screaming when the device starts to buzz erratically against your overly sensitive clit. 

With a strained gasp you yank it away from yourself, turn it off and throw it aside, horribly miscalculating the size of your bed and watching in horror as it lands on the floor with a loud thud. The complete silence from both sides makes the noise sound deafening, and all you can do is sit on your bed, half naked, and hope Jungkook is still too busy basking in his post orgasm bliss to hear the bang. 

Although the blood is still pumping in his ears, he heard the thud clearly. His heart stops in his chest as he lays there, too scared to breathe in case he’d somehow make too much noise, suddenly afraid of being too loud after he had just made a show of himself. Jungkook slowly sits himself up, grimacing at the stickiness on his stomach before pressing his ear against his headboard to try to hear anything else. 

All you want to do is yank the covers over yourself and go to sleep, pretend your horrendous date and your dirty thoughts about your friend never happened. The sobering mentality that comes after an orgasm settles into you, leaving you staring at the floor with a crease between your brows as you wonder what the hell came over you. 

When Jungkook hears nothing else, he sighs in relief, hauling himself out of bed to grab another pair of underwear before entering his bathroom to clean up. As he stares at his own reflection in the mirror, he frowns at how pathetic he feels. The throbbing headache of his earlier drinks is already starting to kick in, body now sweaty from exertion, stomach covered in his cum. 

“Such a loser,” he grumbles out, grabbing a wad of tissues to wipe away the mess on his skin before walking back out. Here he was, getting off to the thought of you, while you were out having your post-breakup wild phase. 

His hands grab his phone as he reaches his nightstand, flopping back onto the bed and unlocking the device. It’s now one in the morning, and you still hadn’t text him, which either meant you were having the time of your life, or Jungkook had to track down this Jung Hoseok. The slightly protective side of him won’t allow him to sleep until he hears back from you, fingers already typing out a message and hitting send. 

Jungkook 1:23am : you safe or am i gonna have to go all Liam Neeson on this guy?

When your phone vibrates on your nightstand you gasp, grabbing it before it could make any more noise. Seeing Jungkook’s name flash on the screen makes your blood run cold, already imagining what the text could be: calling you dirty for getting off on him, making fun of you, telling you to come ove—no stop that. 

Finally mustering up the courage, you open it up, a small laugh spilling out as you read his message, relief flooding through you as you realize that meant he thought you were still with Hoseok. 

Y/N 1:26am : oh yeah, you gonna show him your very particular set of skills? lol

Y/N 1:26am : i just got home though

Y/N 1:26am : like right now

Y/N 1:26am : still sitting in my living room

Y/N 1:27am : haha

He laughs at your string of texts, something you hear as he settles into bed. Jungkook ebbs away the small feeling of jealousy in his chest, trying to see the silver lining of this. You weren’t rushing to tell him anything about your date which meant it either went so good you wanted to keep it to yourself, or it was subpar and you wouldn’t be seeing this yellow sunglass wearing copycat again. 

Jungkook 1:29am : glad you got home safe, goodnight y/n!

Sending back a goodnight text, you lock your phone and slide deeper into bed, pulling the sheets up to your chin as you stare at the ceiling. You already know the only thing you’ll be dreaming about is your cute neighbor with a bunny smile and body proportions that contradicted it. And as Jungkook lays in bed, wondering if he’ll have to push the crush aside, you’re barely coming to terms with the fact that the small glowing feeling that came with being around him might be something else. 

Every single one of your interactions gets rewinded and played back like a seamless montage, remembering just how many almost moments there was between you. The way his eyes would flash down to your lips whenever you playfully argued on your couch, hands yanking the remotes from his in a game of tug of war that left you way too close in the heat of the moment. How he’d let you braid his hair anytime you found a new youtube tutorial, his starry eyes staring at you with so much adoration it made your stomach flip, brushing it off as love for a friend. 

Then came the jokes from your friends, constantly teasing you about Jungkook, playfully saying they would try to sleep with him just because they liked the scowl on your face, and how quickly you tried to play it off. How the sweet old lady from the convenience store downstairs always assumed you were dating when you came in together, the low jab she sent when you walked in with Hajoon and she said she preferred you with Jungkook. That argument had been one of the ones that left him bolting out of your apartment with a nasty slam of the door, spewing nasty words at you, calling you blind for not seeing it and dumb for acting like you had no idea what he was talking about. 

And for the first time, you come to the sudden realization that Hajoon was right. His deep set insecurities about Jungkook had stemmed from scraps of the truth, not just from him but from you too. The amount of times you’d find a way to slide Jungkook’s name into a conversation about anything, telling him funny stories about him, too lost in thought to see that while you were giggling as you reminisce, he was staring at you in disbelief. 

The final thought that makes you want a blackhole to swallow you up, comes in the form of you, grabbing Jungkook’s face before planting a kiss on his unsuspecting lips at the club. You want to scream into your pillow as you recall it, how he had almost leaned back in to kiss you again before you had sobered him up with your dumb question rooted in revenge. 

“Oh my god, I’m such a bitch.” you whimper. Subjecting Jungkook to be your wingman, jokingly telling him he should be your fake boyfriend more often, asking him for tips with hook ups. If everyone else could see it but you, he probably thought you were purposely friendzoning him. 

The guilt piles on top of you as you start to piece together every moment that flew over your head, only making you bury yourself deeper into your sheets. It makes your heart twist, taking note of how Jungkook was always so quick to put a smile on his face despite how naive you were to it all, wondering if maybe it was too late to try to make something of this now. How many times could you call Jungkook ‘bro’ and treat him like you didn’t see him romantically, before he decided there was no hope for him anymore. 

So as you force yourself to sleep, nerves and uncertainty weighing heavy on your mind, Jungkook snores away as he dreams of the almost moments that could have been.

[muffindaddystyles]

DENTIST THE BAD BOI

Word count: 7k

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Harry's a med-student and Y/N's an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant -- he mighty looses it.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff.

MASTERLIST, REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN || PART 2

“Harryyyyy!!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs staring at the small picture of ultrasound, blinking at it several times to vision herself back into reality because the more she does the more she becomes grumpy and fussy – cursing the beast of a neighbour who got her little innocent cat pregnant.

She pulled the strings of her pyjama shorts to tighten it around her and hastily towed her feet into fuzzy slippers, giving a stink of an eye to her cat “don't act so surprised you little ragamuffin!” She mouthed at her with venom (as if trippers her cat cares), stomping her way out and writes a whole book of judgements in her rattling brain upon hearing the loud music weeping through walls.

She knocks. Huffs when it goes unnoticed and this time pounds at the door, crossing her forearms infront of her chest. Not unaware and very accustomed; of happy chatter whirling around whenever she’s trying to focus how a certain recipe goes by, his mates chanting his name from outside when he’s too occupied in whatever he's sorting out inside for their arrival, clanking of beer bottles knowing they and her have a long time to go, the music dimming in the wee of night as the door closes after every fifteen minutes and it dawns at that time –-- she always get left with one option and that’s to curse him till she sleeps.

It’s every Friday and Saturday’s story.

“Max stop that before Ni asks fo’ a dummy —-,” His neck's craned to where his friends are sitting on one of the cosy spots. His jaw popping, dimples chasmic from the smirk he’s holding and Y/N gulps then arches her brow when his attention drops down at her, “Oh .... hi, could help ya?” His cocky grin irks her – bubbling a fire in her pit and an urge to twinge his ear and drag him to her apartment, to show him what he did.

“Could you help me!?” She laughs ironically, chases her frowning gaze from the ripped patches of his jeans towards where his curls are brushing his earlobes and it kind of makes her gasp which she traps in fortunately because – he’s always wearing a hoodie, beanie or his hair up in a little fountain like bun rushing through the lobby with his thick books and laptop clutched in his arms, “Yes please .. y’could help me by transferring expenses of your cat's babies every month to me —-...um could simply have them in your apartment too if the first deal’s too bad.” She shrugs. Taking a glimpse from his shoulder of his friends bunched over eachother and he toys with his bottom wet lip, brows stringing into confusion and his bicep flexes making her flutter her eyes away as he grips the knob of the door and closes it behind him.

“What d'ya mean?”

“You’re doing it on purpose right? ‘cos there’s no way —--” He cuts her groans with a snap and runs a palm down his face, “I seriously don’t know what you’re talkin' ‘bout, Y/N.” His lips tinned into a flat line, his posture now resembling her's and she slaps her forehead with the heel of her palm.

“Then you should keep tabs of your beasty minx of a cat who got my cat pregnant!” She exclaims disbelievingly to which his eyes turns saucer and he throws his sinewy arms in between them, mimics her expressions comically, “Is that my fault? Did I get your cat prego?” She blinks up at him rapidly --- he’s such a nerve puller.

“Yes it is! You didn’t get your cat desexed —-,” She stuffs her pointer against his chest and twist it with a grit, “Now he’ll have babies left and right – like a catwhore he is!!” She aerials her hands in different directions rapidly and he takes a step closer kissing his teeth together to seethe his words.

“He’s not a catwhore!”

“Kay then take the responsibility of what he did.” She mutters tapping her foot onto the carpeted floor and guppies at him like a fish when he bursts into taunting cackles, leaning to catch the door-frame before he mushes her under his weight. ”

“Ye -‐..- you’re —- you aren’t serious are ya?” His rosy eyelids snib tightly forming crinkles to where his temples meet his cheeks and she almost pouts, how much she doesn’t want to she could never cascade her expressions.

“Oh my — .... Bambi eyed wouldn’t I’ave had free him of his ball’s heaviness –-- if I’d ‘ave enough money down me pocket?��� He scrunches his nose to take a breather from laughing hard.

“Don’t call me that!” She bites at him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He smirks gingerly – drums his fingers against his folded bicep and presses his back to the wall tipping his chin high.

Her blush eager to creep up her neck embarrasses her further more and she hides the softness in her voice, muttering gruffly, “Shut up.” Then turns to walk back into her apartment and to slam the door at his face -- but -- his whistle for her halts her in tracks.

“Hey – Bambi, we could sign the custody of kitties if that what ye'want.”

..

Three weeks after. There was another knock on Harry’s door, Niall's head perks up and bangs against the bookshelf –- he was trying to keep the furry cat in his lap, for a good warmer but its more enamoured with the ‘clucks' of his daddy’s boots than the soft flesh of Niall’s thigh as Harry chucks his wallet in the back-pocket of his jeans (he was about to go outside and bring some food) and opens the door slightly to see through the trapping chain, “who’s it?”

“Harry ‘s me ....” The voice mousey and worried. Niall recognizes it in a hot-second, frowns and tries to gain snowy’s attention, “What did y'do again? Did ya get the pretty neighbour's cat prego twice, you fat farts.” He chuckles when snowy meows at him innocently and Harry's brows skews together into a scowl.

“Call him fat farts another time —- I dare you —--,” He howls. Throwing angry upset glares towards Niall – their bickering gets interrupted when Y/N slips her hand from the crack of door, pinches Harry’s knuckles and he squeaks, “Ow —- what the fuck!”

“Harry.” Her tone threatening.

Harry puffs out a huge sigh and reveals himself infront of her, he's not in mood to fight with her over their cats, or the parcel Harry forgot to give her which got delivered to him on accident like one of the thousand times (he never found anything freakish until now .. not that he goes through what’s inside, but the labels tell they’re mostly her art supplies), or why he’s been showering for an hour because she now isn’t left with any warm water —- because he just came back from UNI and is dust bones from having two exams in a row.

“Y/N —-,” His face reeks with exhaustion. His curls drowsy, escaping from his knit beanie and his eyes glazed with sea-foam. She kinda feels bad for disturbing him -- but – it’s an emergency and she doesn’t know where to go, except him.

His weary vision falls upon trippers tucked beneath Y/N’s arm, “Is she alright?” He scratches behind her ear and trippers gives out a pained yowl.

“No –-.. that’s why ‘m here. She’s spotting blood everywhere and –-- and I don’t have enough money ...,” She’s embarrassed to say least. Not meeting Harry’s eyes and he gazes her sincerely –- belly doing weirdly funny somersaults. He clears his throat, grogs out gathering all the information in his head from the anatomy of humans and animals he studied till now.

“It’s okay for spotting in pregnancies – but ‐-.. she looks very much in pain s' we shouldn’t risk it. I’ve a friend. She’s practicing vet -- we could take her there.” He offers. Rubbing the back of his neck and Y/N bobs her head vigorously, anything to save her trippers baby.

“Fine –-- yeah, Iemme just wear my shoes ... then we're good to go.” She mumbles. Harry hasn’t seen her demeanour flatter like this ever before, whenever she’s banging and barging through his flat it’s always taut and cold banter.

He has never seen her this defenceless.

He drops his gaze down at her feet and finds that she’s wearing cute pizza slices socksies.

..

“Is this a clinic, or weed doing zone for animals?” She didn’t try to be mean. It just happened as she takes in the wearbouts of garage, stuffed with drums and musical instruments, spray paint on walls. Harry seems unfazed though, he could be shabbier than her if he wants to –- much fouler that could make her cry.

“Told you. She’s practicing not a vet yet.” She doesn’t question him further. Grateful enough for his help. She might not admit but he isn’t that bad of guy as she once imagined him in her head.

Y/N stifles a snort when a girl with mullet shag, having a stud in her brow and the corner of her lip, attired in all black greets Harry with a hip-check, “Vas’up booger.” She grins and Harry grumbles ruffling her hair with his knuckles.

It leaves Y/N in awe. This’s what group of friends look like -- so fun and annoying, she wanted to have this since when she’s small. Sadly, it’s just her and trippers in her friend group.

“Hi there!” She waves to Y/N trying to battle Harry’s tickles away. Takes trippers from Y/N's arms and coos up at her, “hiyaa baby .. oh, she’s having lil buns inside her.” She laughs and Y/N already likes her so much. As if, she’s the main character of any vintage styled movie.

“Rori here.” She introduces herself as Harry strolls inside her kitchen to rummage through her fridge, “Y/N.” Y/N smiles –-- eyeing Harry who’s whistling and tearing the crate of orange juice open.

When Trippers purrs from a cramp, Rori snuggles her closer to herself – “Her spotting is nothing to worry about –-- maybe she’s ready to give birth. If not I’ll take her to my hospital.”

“So Harry said...” Y/N nods.

“Oohh.” Rori exclaims, wiggling her brows curiously at Harry who’s gulping down juice hungrily, “Booger got normal friends too? Thought, those were all white lies.” He almost chokes at it – downing it cautiously and blinks vividly.

“No. Just neighbours.” Yeah, there’s nothing friendly between them –-- but how it’d be like to befriend Harry. The thought makes Y/N feel snoozy and warm.

“I see.”

“Okay then! ‘m gonna keep Trippers with me for two days –-- figure out what I could do to help her and if she heals I’ll drop her by, how that sounds?”

“Sounds good!” Both, Harry and Y/N chimes together heating their cheeks up. Harry wavers his gaze away, sulking a pouty mouth and turns all stoic again.

He doesn’t want to like, Y/N. Nope. Not at all. In any case.

She’s his bedevilling, bothersome and galling neighbour who just screams at him too much for his likening.

..

“Would you like something to eat?” She asks him while walking back home and he shakes his head, so she nudges him in ribs, “oh c'mon let it be a thank you, grumpy pants.”

“’M not –-,” He was about to snap at her. Instead, he groped her wrist tightly and tugged her to his side –-- she squeals into his chest as a car passes by them swiftly, honking at them in anger.

Her hair wisps from the friction of Harry’s hoodie as she pushes herself away from him, surprisingly he smells incredibly sweet – that of vanilla and citrus musk, something very cosy and like a morning breeze.

A jolt buzzes through her spine at the fact she was about to get crushed under a vehicle but she grins up at him awkwardly, “Tofu then?” His peepers widen in shock and he slaps his forehead.

“You’re mad, know that.”

..

Harry and Y/N. Sky and earth . She sprouts buds of irises and peonies when she speaks, her touch that shines away even an intimidating person as if they're mimosa plants, those eyes --- those eyes are itself sepia of grounds on which the tiny creatures celebrates by and Harry's well ... he’s the floss of clouds hidden behind sunshine, his rains would turn her into loam and his uppish thunder would make her loathe him.

Then some gods decided to break the needles and fix it in some other clock that rotates anti-clock wise.

Now, when she’s unable to nourish her flowers he's always there to rain and stroke a tender breeze against her that makes her lush grass snuggle the roots of who she’s.

They were enemies once. Opposite to eachother in many ways but couldn’t live without eachother despite of their distances. Just like sky's a hollow sheet of nothingness without it’s dear earth.

..

What blossomed their friendship was Y/N's date with this cute boy that is in her ceramic class, (not a date if you’d ask so –-- more like a meetup at this coffee house near her UNI).

Turns out he isn’t that cute. His blunt hands wandered up Y/N’s thigh without her consent and before she could know that, he was groping at it –-- making her gasp and hit her knee against the table. She struggles to writhe out of the chair but he stitches his nails in her skin, “I’m not liking it – you better stop.” She hisses, palms sweaty and slipping trying to remove his grip from around her.

“Don’t act all stupid .. you were hitting at me for hours, you want it but wouldn’t admit.” He groans, rolling his eyes and she feels like crying –-- teeth clanking letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’ll scream.” She warns him.

“You’re not that innocent, you act like.” He smirks, sliding his hand down her insides and before he could reach further Y/N sneaked a fork from the table and stabbed it in his knuckles.

“Fuck.” He shrieks, “Bitch.” He almost screams but stops when everyone stares at him as Y/N’s chair fell against the floor and she stumbles inside the bathroom.

Locking it behind her. Her chest burns with tears. Her vision spins and her fingers shakes as she dials one number she could reach for anytime, it rings then goes to voicemail so her bitten lip wobbles and eyes turn glossy.

She again dials it. There’re noises behind, that of someone instructing and Harry was in his lecture hall when she called .. his heart drops because all he could hear is quivering breath ... it shudders to tight painful gasps and he’s collecting his stuff leaving his seat immediately the doctor who's teaching them Apiceoctomy stares Harry while speaking.

Once he’s out in hallway, “Hey? Y/n are y’there? You okay? What happened?” She bolt her eyes close pressing her head to cold tiled wall and yawps outta fear when someone pounds at the door. Harry runs towards the exist, “Y/N where are you!? ‘m coming .. whatever it’s just --.. just ...” He gripes at his curls pushing them back – his heart beating loud, “ – just stay where you’re ‘n don’t panic .. yeah? It’s okay.” He mutters. Voice soft and assuring.

Her breathing patterns back to calmness – something about him so consoling, so warm and she nods. After some minutes she’s telling him the address and gladly it’s not that far away from Harry.

When he reaches. There are several people waiting at the bathrooms door and he’s knocking on it lightly, pressing his ear to it and grabs the knob (in case he’d have to break it).

When there’s no-response from inside he gets it something’s peculiar, “Bambi. ‘s me Harry.” It clicks and unlocks and he’s tumbling inside while the others groans and disperses knowing it’s invain waiting.

He’s dishevelled. His curls in moppy condition and his eyes full of concern and worry –-- she feels awful for doing this to him.

“Were you crying? Did somethin' happen?” He frowns. Ducking a bit to meet her gaze level and she clears the clump in her throat, “Can we just leave .. please?” He couldn’t believe it’s her voice – the bubbliness and chirpiness of it died to frightened meekness.

Harry takes her hand and walks them outside, Y/N sucks in squeak when the same guy rushes to confront them and when Harry sees his injured hand -- everything pieces together and fury spikes through his veins.

His brows pinches together into a frown, his lips lifting into a scowl and his eyes darkens pitch coal like.

He grips her dainty fingers and moves her behind him protectively and his chest buffs out as he takes a step forward towering the guy – “What d'ya want?” He kisses his teeth together to grit vehemence and that guy lift his trembling hand infront of Harry.

“Look what this bitch —-,” Ah –-- he really pushed Harry’s bad button didn’t he?

Harry grabs him from collar and Y/N squeals rubbing his wrist to pull him back, no-use.

“Badmouth her or anyone —-" Harry sneers and if he'd be a cartoon character – fume would have been coming out of his ears and nose.

“Else what!?” Harry’s more of a practical person -- so he did what he's been learning for years now and breaks his nose with such force it almost knocks him out.

Y/N's still in shock. Walking behind him on jelly toes and a shiver spirals in her bone marrow when her sweat dries from the wind that’s blowing and hitting them in faces.

They wait at bus shelter, sitting side by side –-- thighs brushing now and then flustering Y/N, Moreso when he apologizes everytime.

There’s silence. Harry’s irritated groan breaks it –- he clenches and unclenches his knuckles .. the thin skin a bit bruised.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry –-- .. ‘s my fault.” She rambles. Taking his hand to inspect it, “I shouldn’t have called you at ---..” He frowns confused and pokes her in knee conveying her to stop worrying. Because if anyone needs to be taken care of is her and wish he could just hug her and tell her that it’s not her fault – not even a tad.

“Y/n...” He gains her attention and his gaze flickers from her snotty nose towards her soaky cheeks, “Shut up.” She chuckles at that putting his palm gently back on his thigh.

“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.

“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”

“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.

“Who are you, Y/N?

She jumps up. Wiggling her fingers for him to take and beams sweetly, “Bambi next door?”

..

“From when did ya become s' rich?” He giggles. He finds her fucking adorable as she drags him along herself excitedly – she halts infront of the expensive restaurant –- where people dressed in all kind of luxuries and bright pearls are dinning in and she arches her brow sceptically, “Did you really think –- I��ll be able to take us here?” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket, elevates his shoulders and smiles bashfully.

“Maybe one day, who knows?” They walk towards the chinese take out and Y/N trots backwards –-- facing him all while and rolls her eyes, “’M an artist whose half of paintings goes to trash.” Harry’s eyeballs springs out of his sockets hearing her statement and he really wants to knock some senses into this silly girl.

“Oh my --.. jeez .. those paintings are ‘s good y'divvy. They're hanging onto my walls, been enjoying them fo' free —- what the actual fuck .. really your hands are magical.” He feels annoyed and sad that she felt a need to dump them, because those were some beautiful art pieces.

(“Hmm. It has some hidden meaning beneath it, H. I’m tellin' ya.” Ni would always say. Standing infront of it for hours and hours staring at it.

“Looks like a pussy to me.” Max would quip sipping his bevy and Harry would smack him in head, “Guys how ‘bout we just see it like a fuckin' painting.” He'd grumble focusing back on his books.)

“Really?” She asks shyly and he bobs his head, “Guess you could just keep them then ...” She grins up at him taking the boxes from the cashier.

“Where are we going?”

“You’d see yourself.” She sing-songs galloping over the muddy potholes and Harry looks funny doing it with his spider long legs. Their footsteps echoes in the empty warehouse and Harry didn’t expect her to be the person – that loves finding weird places and spend time there.

“Careful there.” He murmurs. Pressing a hand to her waist when she wobbles on her feet climbing the metal stairs and Harry thinks if she was this clumsy all along or it’s from what happened at the coffee house.

“Holy shit!” He cups a hand around his mouth as the traffic bustles down on the street, “You afraid of heights?” She glances back at him from where she’s standing on the cemented edge.

“Matters. If we're about to act silly and jump, then yes.”

Warmth worms up at his chest and his adam apple bobs, he barks out a laugh when she giggles demanding him to come closer to her, “Come here then you dentist the bad boi.” He tugs the fabric of his jeans from his crotch and hikes his one knee up sitting beside her, other leg swinging in air.

He listens to her hums and happy sounds as she slurps the long noodle inside her mouth, “What you’re afraid of then Harry?” Her question catches him off-guard. Nobody has ever asked what his fears are and he might be famous for an intimidating personality just because he speaks less and owns a roaring bullet –-- he’s still very nice to talk to, but he'd rather spend his time with snowy than waste his time on orgy parties.

“Snowy’s funky farts -- they're ‘orrible!! have to leave the flat fo’ a minute.” He grins when Y/N’s head lulls back and she laughs gleefully, rolling into his side to support herself, “Oh no!” She whines when her chopsticks falls and drops onto the road poorly.

“We can share mine.” He hands her his chopsticks and she thanks him timidly, “What d'you fear?” They pass it back and forth –- his lips wrapping around them as he takes a chunky bite.

Harry tries to down the food that got stuck in his throat when she said nonchalantly, “Dying alone I guess?” He chews the veggies, grimaces and shakes his head -- puts his hand over her knee squeezing it kind-heartedly.

“You’ll not.” She feels like every tulip of light around her’s sparkling – the buzz of having his company tingling her in good way, “Promise?” She asks and Harry lifts his pinky in between them encouraging her to bring her's.

She wasn’t serious about the promise thing it was more onto sarcastic side than to sincerity.

“Promise.” His dimples caters deep and his eyes crinkles when different golden lights dances against her skin making her look prettier than she’s.

He’s gonna fulfill his promise.

..

Y/N could be sentimental given on occasions and how bad the situation’s – but she bottles it up for good amount until later, it all crushes her completely and she’s unable to stand back.

Now, when there’s eerie quietness in the bus and the world infront of her fades behind in weird shapes and forms in her head because of the speed of vehicle – her mind thought it’d be best time to remorse over what happened to her and her eyes well up at that.

Harry plucks his headphones down upon hearing her soft sniffles and turns her towards him with her shoulder, “Y/N hey ....” His voice tender and dewy as he slides his palm under her jaw and cups her cheek to wipe out her tears with the mild stroke of his thumb.

His gentleness rakes out an agonising sob from inside her and she feels like her organs are clashing together.

“Shh. Bambi you’re okay now, ‘s alright you’re here with me -- shh, ‘m so sorry love —- but it’s over now, yeah? We're going home and I’ll make you chamomile tea, could ‘ve both snowy and trippers cuddle with you while I’ll get you all warm and nice inside this new fluffy blanket I just bought! – how does that sound?” He pets her hair. Brings her closer to his chest and she keeps her nose tucked against his clavicles to stop from crying and make a show.

When she nods, suckling a wet breath he swipes a loose errand of her hair behind, “Sounds good yeah?” She just hums snuggling into him.

Her arms slowly loops around his love-handles and he stows her head under his chin -- rubs her back in circles to soothe the stiff muscles, covers her ears with the headphones he was wearing before – plays acoustic version of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac and simpers when she hiccups his name, but doesn’t respond when he answers – his ears turns pink from fond and his belly overglows with butterflies as she babbles his name till she drops into peaceful sleep.

Y/N found herself in his bed with snowy and trippers ontop of her and Harry snoring on the couch – his gangly limbs not fitting at all.

She really wanted to call him and sleep on his bed, but she drowses back to slumber.

..

“Grumpy jerk and an actual ray of sunshine. Sorry, couldn’t process it – too much.” Rori teased Harry the last time they gathered and Y/N was there too! though the true statement was claimed after her departure.

Harry’s friends couldn’t believe that he stepped out of his comfort zone and made a new cute friend, now after one year of their friendship it doesn’t feel like they’re neighbours anymore –-- it's just one big home with an alleyway in between.

“What're y'doin', moppet?” Harry chuckles picking up the half eaten packet of crisps, chewy sour candies, wrappers of oreos and the romcom CDs they were playing before.

Y/N's sprawled on her tummy. Feetsie in air and her chin secured in her palm as she looks like she’s seriously about to take an admission in med school –-- she’s concentrating real hard on the thick book under her, eyes fixated on the diagrams of teeth – it makes Harry laugh like a maniac.

“Aish. Your books, gives me an ache.” She massages her forehead, shakes her head as if she tasted something icky and pushes his book away. Harry laughs harder at her antics wrappers flying away from his grasp and he flops onto couch –-- thighs spreading wide and back sinking into the cushions.

“Where?” His lips rumbles as he tries to hold back another fits of laughter when she gets his dirty joke and pouts, lips fluttering into a smile until she bursts into giggles joining him.

“Nope. My cookie doesn’t throb like it used to sneaking on reproduction chapters in biology.” Harry roars out a cackle at that and Y/N grins fiddling with the frizz of her socks, “Heyyyy it’s not funny –- very much sad.”

He suckles a breath in, their grins achy and big, “Stuff your cookie with some jam ‘n you'll be alright.”

“You’re gross!” She fake gags. Hunches over to exaggerate the severity and scares the shit out of Harry when she gasps loudly slapping his knee, “Harry! Harry! Oh my gosh.....ahhhh!” She gallops like a bunny towards the window and gazes up at the sky with glinting eyes, “Harry look! It’s snowing.” He trots behind her with a roll of eyes knowing what’s about to come next.

When she turns around with sparkly grin, hands clasped atop her chest and tippy-toes to beg him, Harry shuts his lids, “No Muffy.” Y/N loves eating chocolate muffins –-- eating them whenever she could possibly ... and that’s how the pet name Harry decided to call her was muffy.

“Please, it would be so fun .. we could have hot chocolate afterwards.” She mumbles tugging at the hem of his chunky yarn sweater.

“Nothing’s fun about snow angles, Muffyyyy!!” He whines. Squinting down at her with one eye and finds her all slumpy, head falling downwards.

“Okie then. ‘m going to sleep.” She mutters in a meek voice pushing past him –-- but he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back to himself, chuckling with wide eyes, “You’re very dramatic and annoyin’ y’know that?”

Instead, she grins bobbing her head shamelessly, pats his chest and dashes to wear his warm jacket, “Biscuits on you -- hot chocolate on me.” She tells him slipping into her shoes with the support of doorframe.

He comes closer to her and her heart thuds into her tiny ribs as he zips his jacket she’s wearing up till her neck and warns her while pulling out her hair, “If I get sick – ‘m gettin'y sick too.”

..

Harry’s waiting outside the candy shop Y/N just barged in moments ago. He refused to step inside – knowing she’ll use him as a taste tester and at the end of the day his tongue would have a mountain sugar atop his taste buds.

The spring breeze flowery and warm. He shakes his head, smiles softly watching her switch aisles and guffaws loudly catching attention of an old couple siting on the bench behind -- at her eagerness when she started chomping onto the long chewy candy right after getting it from the cashier.

“That’s g'na rot your teeth even before your forties.” He tells her taking the small bag from her and walks beside her, “Your kids are gonna hate you ...” She tells him –- stretching out the candy with her teeth.

“You sure, y'were allowed colas and candies in childhood?” He teases her prodding her side so she throws it at his chest making him laugh and he bends down to pick it up and dump it in bin.

“You’ve got a cute bum.” She whistles and Harry’s cheeks bashes with blush – turns around and wiggles herself, “How's mine?” She hums glancing back at him with cheeky grin.

“Ten by two, I guess?” He bites down a smirk when she spins to face him a bit gobsmacked, “Not even five?” She grumps chin doubling as she tries to see her bum herself.

“Six then?” He giggles enjoying how she’s getting riled up out of nowhere and she stomps away from him so he jogs to catch her, “Bambi. Was kiddin'.”

“You owe me two muffins with the amount of insults you’ve caused my poor bum.” He knuckles at her hair and she slaps him away like a feisty kitten, “I take it back –-- you’re really ten by two.”

“Oi!!!” Now, she’s running behind him. His curls blowing away and his coat ruffling with the zephyr, his head falling back with the belly-ache laughter that bounces against the bricked walls of shops.

..

It’s Friday night. Y/N is doing her laundry. Plucking out Harry’s socks from Trippers furry ear, her kitties sleeping in bassinet. Harry and Y/N have named them Tum, Tug and Truggers –-- she sits back on her heels upon hearing her door closing and hikes the small basket on her hip trudging outside —-- she didn’t had any clothes that could make her feel warm during these days – even her socks were all soggy -- so was Harry’s, now all she’s gonna do is make a blanket fort and hide in it for hours.

She knuckles at her eyes, blinking the tiredness away to see properly who’s standing in the middle of room, “Harry?” He's wearing a graduation gown and tips his hat with a sheepish smile then waves his degree infront of her, “Guess who's a proper dentist now!?” She’s frozen to her spot –- jaw slacked and eyes blown away in surprise.

“Your bad boi!” The basket falls from her hip onto the floor scaring Trippers and she whispers an, “Oh my goodness.” Before, stumbling towards him and crashes in his arms giving him a tight loving hug. He slinks his forearms around her and squishes his face into the crook of her neck, lips tickling her skin and if it was possible for him to freeze the time and cherish it for some more he'd.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mumbles into him with a grin. He feels so worthy and every hardship he faced now feels like nothing, this's how life supposed be throughout –- but best things always bores fruit for the right time.

“How about we celebrate? Just you and me.” Just you and me. It feels nice to just her and him. Makes her heart swoon. Makes her feel like skies outside are wet and pink, “Umm .. can we celebrate here? It’s okay .... “ She shifts on her feet and he furrows his brows in confusion, lips ticked up as if he’s scrutinizing her.

“You and not goin' nutters for an outing .. seems odd —-,” Then his eyes falls over the surrounding, a heating pad beside his feet – aloe fused socks hanging to get dry, a tray of chocolate muffins, kettle on the coffee table so he puts one and one together himself.

“Oh muffy —-... pizza and cuddles then?” If he wouldn’t be aware of how first few days of her period are hell for her then who would? He’s always making her pot meals and curry rice – feeds her and gets all strict when she refuses to eat anything. She looses her appetite and transforms into something ‘if zombie had a baby with vampire -- it sure looked like you’ he'd always scold her.

Even bribe her with candies. Once they were awfully painful and Y/N really didn’t want to be all dramatic not when their friends were having a good time, she doesn’t like to be a party pooper.

But, when a stinging cramp cut through her pelvis and thighs she was hunching forward with a jolt -- all teary eyes and wobbly lips. Harry left everything and rushed towards her, sitting on his knees on the floor and cupped her throat to make her look at him when she refused to, “Y/N ‘m serious -- you rather tell me what’s happening with ye’ or ‘m throwin' you at my shoulder and takin’ you hospital —... cause fuck look at you been like this since morning ....” He was rambling and Y/N felt like drilling a hole into floor and hide herself there forever.

She was mortified and embarrassed, a terrible combination.

She wasn’t able to tell him infront of all of their friends even though it’s something very normal, so everyone stared and nodded when they left they for Harry’s room.

“Bambi are you okay? I’m not even kidding something’s not —-..” She wipes her nose and tugs at his wrist trying to shush him, when he doesn’t pushes a fingers against his lips.

“Don’t worry. ‘m good --- just —-... umm I’m on my periods.” She rubs her one feet on another and his mouth fall into an ‘o' when realization hit him and his brows clinches together sternly.

He sighs running his fingers through his hair, something he does when frustrated and whumpy.

“Should’ve told me. We could have done this later ... do you want anything? I’ve got pain —--,” His words swells on his tongue when her head bumps against his chest and her hands locks around his neck, hugging him with all her gentle will because nobody has ever cared for her –-- him being so tentative to her makes her want to sob into his chest.

He warms her in all the right places.

..

“How’re you feeling on scale of one to ten?” He speaks while chewing onto the stuffed crust of pizza. They’re cosied up on the sofa while Mama Mia plays on the telly and she’s cuddled up into him, he's holding her heat pad with the grip of his forearm and she lifts her head mousey-ly from his bicep and whispers – “Eightish...? Now, you’re Dr.Styles.” He giggles at her and pushes her head back against him with his finger.

“What does my being dentist has a connection to your periods?” He dips the pads of his fingers into her pudgy love handles and squeezes them -- she giggles thinking about the joke she’s about to crack.

“You pull teeth, it’s blood and I pull out tampon so it’s —...” Harry chuckles gruntly at her and tickles her more, “Oh no. I know where it’s goin'....”

“You asked for it!” She pouts at him and he squishes her lips together as if she’s a duck toy.

Then they flump back into their cuddling position and Harry rubs her tummy in tender soothing circles, it helps her relax and his breath syncs with her and she really tries not to pay attention to her bratty screaming hormones heating her skin up – her thighs experiencing a quiver and she squeaks down a huffy whimper.

“You okay?” Harry asks. When she squirms against him and she gulps -- they don’t hide stuff from eachother so she tells him honestly, “You’re really turning me on.” Harry’s heart hiccups at that and his palms still over her thighs.

“Is that so?”

He pets her hair and tries to make her stand, “Just go to washroom and jizz one out.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“Promise me you wouldn’t make fun....” He frowns and nods bringing his pinky to make the deal.

She clutches her sweater down to her knees, cheeks rosy and mutters out in one breath – “I’ve specific days for that....” Harry really tires to. He locks up his laughs in his lungs and it aches his chest, his cheeks balloons up but at last he rolls onto floor and guffaws into his elbow.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun!!!” She whines kicking his side lightly and he grabs her ankle, “This means all those times you’d be all locked up –- oh my god, you were playing with yourself.” She folds her arms. Her nostrils flares with irritation and she doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“Pet, waiting so long .. it’s a torture to yourself.” He tells her genuinely sitting up with crossed legs and she mumbles knuckling at her eyes, “just some reasons ... horny is bad.” Now, Harry feels kind of terrible pushy person and he really wants to help her out but he’s walking on egg shells here. So, he stops asking anything.

“Rori's girlfriend is a sex therapist —-“ She becomes all fidgety at that and Harry takes in her nervousness, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” He exclaims waving his hands and she gulps giving him a small nod.

“Night time fo' some grumpy muffy!” He coos, brings the blanket to her chin and his pupils dilate adorningly when she asks him, “Could I snuggle you?”

“Ofcourse.” He pecks her temple and tells her to budge over before sandwiching her between him and the sofa.

That whole night all his mind could think was why horny is bad for her?

..

Y/N was feeling overly warm and heated, a tad achy between her thighs. She vigorously tries to focus on something else but her chest is heaving at this point, even opens the windows and let the cool air hit her but no use –- so she does what have to be done in order to get rid of the throb.

She cosies herself on the bed, switches onto hentai and throws her legs in air to shimmy her sheer white panty down.

“Oh ...” Whimpers teeny-ly when her fingers brushing up her soaking pussyfolds provides her a bit relief – her soft hands wanders beneath her flimsy shirt and touches her skin in the most arousing way possible –-- tweaks her nipples and jerks up, oozing more wetness.

“Ah! Fuck.” She moans easing in two fingers at once and cramps down at them watching the hentai porn –- but it’s not enough, she’s been pushing her fingers in and out for ten minutes now—she’s unable to get to climax.

So she groans sits up and switches to domineering audios, listens to it while fingering herself hard and she has no idea from where her mind gathered these images from -- but -- soon she’s thinking about Harry’s husky rasp, his sea-foam beautiful eyes and those rosy knuckles ring clad hands —-- imagining him holding her down into mattress and pounding into her at a brutal pace, making her sit on his cock and not letting her move –-- his fingers down her petty throat —-- him spanking her ass if she let’s out any voice out and he'd roar at her beg as she'd be lurking at her tenth orgasm –---- every plausible dirty stuff with him.

She was so engulfed into making herself feel good, lost in her own headspace and imaginations that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching and it’s like she manifested him as he stands at the door-frame with blown away pupils –-- guppy mouth and she’s squealing feeling dizzy upon sitting up this quick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck —-... sorry sorry ... “ He covers his eyes and turns to walk away but bumps his head with a thud into doorframe.

She gasps, knees up and almost shouts, “No!” making him halt mid-track and she’s on the verge of tears, red face and shaky fingers.

“Please ....”

“Stay.”

Harry’s eyes turns soft at that and he walks towards bed, licks his lips wet and brushes the loose tress of her hair away.

“You want me to stay, muffy?” He asks to make sure – she isn’t in haze and all fog minded.

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

[unloved-cadillac]

Can I get a story with Levi and a child reader (Chile, hear me out) who he sort of takes care of please? Like she doesn’t have parents and found her way to the Corps somehow. She’s curious and innocent, she loves to explore. However, she’s very anxious and relies on Levi to protect her. She only comes out of her shell when he’s at her side. He seems distant, but he secretly adores her and will raise all of Hell if anything ever happens to her. Thank you!

C/n: wait! This is…adorable!! I love it! I’m just picturing baby Caddy with grumpy Levi and I almost died. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

——————————————————————————

His Girl. (Levi x Reader)

How a child managed to get into the most dangerous army regiment without being seen was a mystery to everyone. But there she was. Sitting in the kitchen, munching on bread. “Who is she?” Eren asks and Armin squats down to get a better look at her. “Don’t know. Hey there. I’m Armin. This is my friend, Eren. What’s your name?” Armin asks but she doesn’t look at him nor answer. She just stares at the bread in her hands.

“Oi! Why is everyone gathered here?! Don’t you people have duties to attend to?” A gruff voice asks and Y/n looks up to see a man. “C-Captain Levi! There’s a child here and we don’t know how she got here!” Eren stutters and Levi looks at her. She stares at him with big e/c eyes with breadcrumbs all over her face. “Tch. All of you go. I’ll sort this out.” He orders and everyone dispersed leaving him alone with her.

“Can you talk?” He asks and he sees her nod.

“What’s your name?” She plays with the bread but answers. “Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

“Alright, Y/n. Why don’t come with me and you can tell me exactly how you got here?” She nods and slowly gets up and walks to Levi. Her little legs not being able to keep up with him and he scoffs. “Come here then, brat.” He says and lifts her up and carries her to his office.

Once there, Levi sat her down on the couch and sat next to her. “How did you come here? Where’s your mom and dad?” He asks and she looks around his office. “Mommy left and daddy died.” She says nonchalantly and Levi’s eyes widen. ‘Jesus Christ.’ “Oh. Well then, how did you get here then?”

Y/n continues to look around as she swung her legs back and forth. “Horses.” She says and Levi nods. “How old are you?” She looks at him and holds up five fingers. He nods and then looks at her attire. He gets up and goes to his bedroom to get a spare t shirt for her when he feels some hug his leg. “Oi. What are you doing?” He asks looking down at her, Y/n’s eyes staring at him. “Tch. Put this on then.” He says and gives it her. She takes the shirt and plops down on the floor as she plays with it. ‘Lord have mercy.’

Levi rolls his eyes and picks her up and sits her on his bed. He removes the torn shirt she wore and looked at the marks on her tummy. “How did you get this?” He asks and she shrugs. He sighs and puts the shirt on her. “We’re going to see a friend of mine. Then I’m going to give you bath because you’re filthy.” That makes her giggle and hold his face. “Wevi.” She says and he groans. “Levi. Say “Levi”.”

“Wevi.”

He shakes his head and takes her into his arms as he begins to walk to Erwin’s office. He knocked and waited for him to answer while Y/n stared at Levi. Erwin’s door opens and Y/n flinches at the loud sound.

“Oh! Levi, hello. And who is this?” He looks at the girl in his arms and Levi enters the office and plops Y/n in the couch. “Y/n L/n.” Levi says and Erwin squats down in front of the small girl. “Hello, beautiful. I’m Erwin.” He introduces himself but Y/n only stared at Levi.

Erwin turned and faced his friend as he tried not to laugh. “I think she likes you Levi.” He teases and Levi rolls his eyes. “Tell him how you got here, brat.” He tells her and she nods. “Mommy left and daddy died. I saw horses and came here.” She says in, possibly the sweetest voice Erwin has ever heard.

“Levi she’s adorable.” Erwin smiles and pinches her cheek. Her hands touch Erwin’s eyebrows and he chuckles. “Like them?” He asks and she nods. “Caterpillars.” She mumbles and Levi resists the urge to laugh. “Alright, I’m taking her to my room. Get her cleaned up and stuff. What do you want to do with her?” Levi asks Erwin.

“Well, I’m not going to send her to the orphanage, that’s for sure. Why don’t you take care of her? I mean, we all will. She’s safe here. What do you say?” Levi rubs a hand through his hair but nods. “I don’t think I have choice, now do I?” “No not really.” Levi sighs. “Whatever. Come on, Y/n. Let’s go.”

She quickly leaves Erwin and waddles to Levi begins to walk to the door. “Uh, Levi?” Erwin calls and Levi faces him to see Erwin point down. Levi looks down to see Y/n make grabby hands to Levi and he sighs.

“Come here then.” He takes Y/n in his arms and begins to leave. “Not a word, Eyebrows.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

~~~~

Levi bathed her and watched her as she played with the bubbles he made for her. Y/n blew the bubbles and one landed on Levi’s head which made her giggle. “Haha, very funny.” He sarcastically says and drains the tub. He wipes his head and then wipes Y/n down. “Arms up.” He orders and she puts her arms up as he wipes her tummy and legs and toes. Then he wraps her in the towel and takes him to his bedroom and sets her down on the bed.

He takes a new shirt and shorts and puts it on her to see it was massive on her. “Do I have to get you new clothes now?” He asks her but she just stares at her toes. Levi sighs and makes a plan to tighten the clothes around her. He pins them together and ties the t shirt. It worked but he definitely needed to get new clothes for her.

“Hungry or sleepy?” He asks and she blinks. Her stomach growled and he hums. “Hungry it is then.” He takes her into his arms and makes his way to the mess hall. Luckily he was the first time there so he got them both food and he sat her next to him.

She ate like hadn’t for months and Levi wiped her lips. “Slowly. We don’t want you getting sick.” He says and she nods.

Slowly, the mess hall started to fill up and when Levi’s squad surrounded the table to see the little girl from earlier sitting next to their captain:

They were smitten.

“Aww hello there!”

“You’re so pretty!”

“How old are you?! How did you get here?!”

“Such chubby cheeks. Lemme pinch!”

Poor Y/n was so overwhelmed by the attention she hid in Levi’s side. “Hey! You’re all scaring her. Calm your tits.” He ordered and everyone falls silent. But then they hear giggling and Levi looks down to see Y/n sitting in his lap.

“What’s her name, Captain?” Armin asks as she looks up at Levi. “Y/n L/n. She’s an orphan and she’s going to be staying there from now on.” He says and everyone smiles. Y/n looks around to see everyone looking at her and she eats her meat. “Levi?” She calls him and looks down. “What?”

“Thirsty.”

He takes her cup of water and gives it to her. She drinks and then looks at him. “Levi?” “Yeah?” “I want to see the horses.”

“Not now. It’s late.” Levi says and finishes his tea.

“Can we play with her?” Eren asks and Levi looks at him, thinking. “Fine. I got paperwork to do anyway. But, Armin is in charge,” he looks at him, “don’t let her out of your sight.”

When Levi places her on Armin’s lap, he leaves and begins to work on his paperwork.

“So Y/n, what do you like?” Eren asks and Y/n turns her face away and cuddles Armin. “Oh my god I think my heart just busted a nut.” Connie says and Sasha slaps his head. “What?!” “Don’t speak like that in front of babies, idiot.”

Y/n jumps down from Armin and walks to a barrel to explore. Everyone watches her as she walks around the hall. But as she walked, a very tall man cowered over her. “Hello there.” Mike greets and that made her break.

She started crying and Armin rushed over to her with Eren and Mikasa. “Y/n. What happened?”

“Levi. I want Levi.” She cries out and holds her face and Armin picks her up and goes to Levi’s office as he tries to calm her down. Levi immediately opened the door and sees Y/n reaching for him. “What the hell happened?” He asks as he bounces her to calm her down. “Squad Leader Mike said hi and she just bursted out crying.” Armin explains.

“The giant was bound to do that. Thanks Armin. You can go.” He dismissed him and shuts the door as he holds Y/n. “Brat, you need to be strong. You can’t cry for everything, alright?” He speaks to her and looks down to see her fast asleep. He rolls his eyes and tucks her into his bed.

“What a pain.”

~~~~

Y/n started to fit in nicely. She loved her Aunt Hange and Uncle Erwin and even warmed up to Mike. But everyone in the Corps realized that she was only smiley and laughing if she had her protector with her. Levi had to be with her whenever she went and it was tiring because her curious mind wanted to go everywhere.

One time, he had to leave with Erwin to the city and Y/n cried the whole time he was away. Hange had to make a baby potion to help her sleep and when Levi returned, Hange almost got killed by him because she allowed her to cry.

He won’t admit it, but the brat made her way into his heart. It was the little things at first. How she always looked for him when she woke up, how she “helped” him with paperwork. By helped, she wrote squiggles. Levi even caught himself hating being apart from her. He always worried about her in his own way.

“Y/n probably would want this, huh?”

“You think Y/n likes strawberries?”

“Y/n would love that show. I have to bring her here one day.”

Erwin had to listen to his friend speak about Y/n every single time they went to the city. Not shutting up once about her. It was refreshing to hear Levi speak that much.

Y/n was the reason Levi got sleep. She had nightmares and wouldn’t fall asleep unless her Levi was there. To her, if he was next to her, he will fight all the monsters that came for her. Levi ended sleeping a full six hours and Y/n ended up in his chest.

He won’t admit, not to anyone alive, but Y/n was his girl. Levi took her to see Hange and when Hange wanted to carry her, Levi just said no. “Your hands are dirty and I just gave her a bath.”

“But I-“

“No.”

Y/n was super possessive of her Levi. She never wanted him to go anywhere without her and he just had to suck it up and take her wherever.

Not that he minded. No, not at all.

——————————————————————————

“Genshin is taking over my life.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ��cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

[wishingyouback]

In The AM.

[01:45am] late nights with minho;

It’s a quarter to two in the morning when you stumble upon minho in your apartment kitchen with his hands on his face.

Though his back is facing you, you can almost picture the look on his face. His eyes closed, hands resting on his face to either try to subside the growing headache he had or, he was just exhausted with amount of workload he had piling up. You frown to yourself and lean against the doorframe of your kitchen, being quiet and careful to not stir him from his thoughts, to take a proper look at him.

His body is slumped in comparison to his usual lean position. His hair is ruffled, looking as if he had run his hands through it a million times to rid of the worries in his head. You’re about to walk over to him when Minho turns his head to look at you. Your eyes immediately catch his and he can’t stop the smile he has growing on his face. You bite your lip to contain your excitement and make your way into his arms that opens warmly for you.

When you wrap your arms around his neck, he finds solidarity in your embrace and hums. You feel his body relax in your warmth and you almost want to cry at how tired he must be.

“How’d you know I was there?”

“I heard you open your door,” he looks at you then kisses your forehead lightly which makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I’m sorry I came so late. Practice took longer than usual.”

Minho rarely talked about work — not because he didn’t want to or didn’t trust you. He trusted you with his entire life and if anything, he adored you to bits. It was just that, whenever he would be around you, you helped ease his worries. You took the pain away before he could even acknowledge it; you were his escape from reality because when he was with you, it actually felt like nothing else in the world mattered except for the moments together like right here, right now.

He was extremely thankful for you, and he always made sure to let you know that. If he couldn’t say it, he’d show it.

For your first day as a couple, the hazel haired boy surprised you with flowers at midnight because he was busy with practice the entire day. When you reached a month, he bought you the bracelet you had been eyeing the time the both of you went shopping for his lovely cats. Needless to say, Minho was an attentive lover. He knew you inside out — everything you did together felt so intimate and you felt incredibly lucky; even privileged at times to be privy to these type of affections from the man who was once shy in front of you.

You pull away from him to stretch your arms, closely resembling a feline creature he was fond of, which makes him smile.

He keeps you close to him with his arms wrapped gently around your waist as you stand between his legs that he parted to make room for you. “Did I wake you?”

You hadn’t seen each other for two weeks. Though that was considered the shortest time you both have been separated, you missed him a lot more than usual and you were glad you made a spare key just for him to make his entrance any time he wanted. You shook your head.

“I woke up to get a glass of water,” you then rested your head on his shoulders, relaxing in his arms when he started to draw small patterns on your waist. “Did you just get here?”

He checks his phone and nods. “Just a few minutes, actually. We had a last minute meeting too.” He says this with a sigh.

He covers it up with a shrug but you know Minho and you know the difference between his usual nonchalant attitude to this one.

After a moment of silence with him swaying you from side to side and you laughing at the little jokes he would whisper in your ears, you stand up properly and sternly place your hands on his shoulder, making him tilt his head up to look at you. He sees the blank look on your face and sits up to mirror you.

You don’t have to say anything for him to know what you’re asking.

Even if it was just a look or a stare, Minho could read your body language and he recognised it even if you thought you were being subtle. He was alert; protective even, especially when it came to you.

“We learnt this choreography today,” you listen intently and play with the roots of his hair, something you noticed Minho liked even when he would jokingly push your hands away. “It wasn’t difficult, but it wasn’t simple either. I know we’ve done harder but— I just can’t get this one move right and it’s frustrating.”

Your heart suddenly grows heavy and you feel the sudden urge to want to reassure Minho that he’s doing amazing, so you do.

You take a step closer to him, place your hands on his cheeks, making his lips pout a little but make him look into your eyes.

“That’s not your fault, baby.” Minho’s about to deny it but he knows you have more to say, and doesn’t interrupt you. “I know I won’t understand how you completely feel, but I want you to know that I’m so proud of you and that I know you’re already doing your best. You always do, and the boys know that too.”

You stare up into Minho’s eyes and he decides that there was not a single word in the dictionary, he was sure, that could describe just how beautiful you looked tonight.

You weren’t glammed up, nor were you in the least bit trying considering you were asleep, but he decides that this is his favourite look on you. You’re wearing one of his shirts, given it was a lot bigger on you than on him, it fit you perfectly. Your hair was tussled, evident from the tossing and turning you did in your sleep, and your cheeks are more pink then they usually were, but you looked so beautiful that Minho couldn’t resist the kiss he gives you when you’re about to say something in reply.

You smile into the kiss and he suddenly feels so energised that he swallows your giggles and hums a satisfied tune against your lips. When he pulls away, he pecks your cheeks then your nose.

You can’t stop grinning after this, feeling your face heat up. “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.” Again, you look up at Minho with the softest look he has ever seen and he nearly melts at the sight.

“Just thankful.” Is what he says which makes you raise your eyebrows as if to ask ‘for what?’ and he knows it isn’t to tease him. You genuinely don’t know what for, and he’s more than happy to tell you. “For you, angel.”

You bury your head into his chest at the new pet name and he already knows you’re blushing. He bites back his inner cheek to stop himself from laughing, but it’s not use because a giggle slips out and you’re pulling away to look at him again.

“Stop.” You whine and he laughs harder.

After a moment, you feel Minho draw figure eights on your back with his fingers and you feel yourself moving into him more to hug him again. He always had that affect on you.

“You wanna know something?” His voice is so low that if you weren’t in his embrace, you wouldn’t have heard it. He looks down to check if you’re listening and you are, you’re already looking at him.

“I’m so in love with you.”

You break into a wide smile and let out a shy laugh. The both of you have been together for a year now, yet you still get giddy at the compliments he gives you; the things he says to you, especially when he tells you that he loves you. It wasn’t new to hear, yet every time he said it to you, you couldn’t help but feel like it was the first time.

Minho found it endearing. He loved seeing you happy and most importantly, he loved loving you. You were his person, his lover and partner in everything.

“I’m so in love with you too.” You say when you wrap your arms around his neck so he can hug you properly. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“You wanna head to bed now?” You nod.

“Let me get a drink then I’ll join you.”

He hums an answer and lets you go get a cup but before you can take another step, he grabs your wrist and when you turn, you feel his lips land on yours. You’re about to react when he pulls away as quickly as he started it, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

“I’ll see you in bed, baby.” You roll your eyes playfully at the older boy let him go. He reluctantly lets go of your hand that he squeezes before leaving and you grab your drinks feeling nothing but pure happiness completely consume your body.

<3

a/n if you made it ‘till the end, thank you so much for reading ily, i do. & if there are any errors, let me know and i’ll fix them ♡ happy reading(s)!

— you’re always loved. x

[letarasstuff]

Normal People don't know their IQ

(A/N): Inspired by me, who recently discovered normal people don’t know their IQ, while I was tested two or three times already...

Summary: A certain someone is the only way to get the UnSub. But there’s also something different that makes her special.

Warnings: Angst (fluffy end, I swear), language, mentions of rape and torture, mention of dead people, the usual CM stuff I guess Wordcount: 2.0k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________________

“Garcia, I need you to look into high school teachers, who are suspended or fired for inappropriate behavior towards students and live in the area of the kidnappings”, Hotch orders in a stern voice. But you can’t blame him, after all there are currently six dead teenage girls and one missing. One can only hope and work as fast as possible to get her back to her parents alive.

The team is working a case in Sacramento, California. Teenage girls get abducted on their way home from school, are held for exactly a week and are killed by a simple cut to their throat. The torture they have to endure beforehand isn’t as simple. The last two also show signs of rape.

The dumbing sites are different parks all over the city. The placing happens overnight only to have the girls found the next morning by a clueless jogger or stroller.

“Let’s go over the profile again, I feel like we are missing something”, Rossi commands. His gut feeling tells him only that much, he just has to find out what it is.

“It’s a white male in his mid thirties to late forties. He blends in, so he has to be or has been a teacher. Someone who looks like they belong into a school isn’t suspicious”, Spencer counts the facts.

“The victims all look similar, probably resembling an ex-wife or girlfriend”, Morgan adds. Before he can get into the depth of the torture a phone rings.

“My lovely crime fighters, I got an address. Charles Collins. philosophy and history. Got suspended for suggestive talk towards his female students. He is also said to stare at them and certain body parts for way too long and way too obvious. Gross. Annnd that- wait”

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asks after a moment of silence, which is unusual for the ever bubbly tech analyst.

“You got your profile wrong. Collins doesn’t take these girls because of an ex flame.”

The team looks at each other in confusion. Garcia always stresses how she isn’t a profiler and can’t judge over people, because she only wants to see the good in them. How is she able to tell that the profile is off?

“Shoot baby girl, we don’t have much time left”, Derek urges her. He wants nothing more than to have this SOB finally behind bars. The whole team wants that.

“He has a daughter. Technically it’s not his daughter, it’s someone else’s, but he is her foster father. Go and please save both girls!”

Penelope doesn’t have to say it twice. After a brief thank you and goodbye the team is on their way to the given address. As soons as they get there, everyone notices the absence of a car in the driveway. Hotch sends Spencer, Emily and Derek through the back door, the rest goes in from the front.

“FBI! OPEN UP!”

It’s needless to say that nobody opens up. There is no other way than kicking the doors down.

After entering the house and clearing the first floor, Rossi points towards the stairs that leads to the first story. There are only two rooms. A bathroom right hand and a closed door left hand.

Morgan counts quietly down before also kicking this door down and screaming “FBI!” But he seemingly talks with air, because there is no one to be found. Once again the team swarms out to look for evidence or clues.

As Spencer looks through the room they cleared last, he sees various things that make him smile. Several bookshelves are flooded with all kinds of genres, authors and covers. At first he can’t make out in which way they are sorted. But a closer look makes him realize that they are sorted by the author’s birth year. The doctor is kind of impressed, because that means the person knows when they are born in order to find a certain book. He likes the idea, it is a nice little challenge.

While he investigates further a sound makes him stop. He sends a text to Emily and waits for her. When she enters the room Spencer gestures to her to keep it quiet. Then he points to the bed.

They lower themselves down to the floor at the same time on each side of it. A girl, no older than 14 years, lays there shivering in angst. With big doe eyes she looks at Spencer and whispers:

“Please don’t hurt me.”

A while later the team is back at the station with the girl sitting in one of the interrogation rooms. The temperature is already set down, though Hotch feels really bad for it. Still there is another girl out there waiting to be safed.

“Baby girl, what can you give us on her?” Morgan sets his phone in the middle of the table and switches the speaker on.

“Our little girl’s name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), fourteen years old. Parents were deemed to be unable to look after her since they are both heavy drug addicts and didn’t even register her crying for two hours straight. Since the age of six months she bounces through the system with nobody wanting to keep her longer than two years. They claim she is too smart for them and want somebody to look after her, who can challenge her intellectually.

“Collins took her in one and a half years ago. He got her signed up in several activities after school, like chess and academic decathlon. As of right now she is a junior with an opportunity to graduate next year. Her teachers describe her as incredibly bright with a complicated way of thinking.”

“Complicated way of thinking? Her intelligence was neglected for years, so she gave herself her own challenges. I found her books sorted by the birth year of the authors. She found ways of making things more difficult for herself, that’s why she fabricated strange ways of thinking. This is often found in children with high intelligence, who are not boosted enough by their environment”, Spencer explains, getting more and more furious.

His colleagues feel that this is a sensitive subject for their resident genius. JJ comfortably puts a hand on his shoulder, making the tense go away.

“Emily and Dave, I want both of you to interrogate her. We need to know where he hides the girls. JJ, try to hold the press off for a bit longer. Morgan, Reid, I want you to watch and look for tells or anything else”, Aaron orders.

Everyone works on their given task immediately.

You don’t need to be a profiler to see that (Y/N) is scared out of her mind. She has her feet on her chair and her head lies on her knees. When the two agents enter, she tries to at least fake some kind of composer. But she fails miserably at it.

“Hello (Y/N), may I call you that?” Emily begins in a soft voice. The teenager nods shyly. “Good, (Y/N). My name is Emily Prentiss and this is David Rossi. We are agents from the Behavior Analysis Unit from the FBI. Do you know why you are here?” The teenager shakes her head.

“Ok, let’s cut the chase”, David's voice booms through the small room. “You know exactly why you are here. From what we saw in your room you are an incredibly smart girl. How high is your IQ? 130? 135?”

“147 a-actually”, she nervously corrects the agent, never meeting his eye. The team notices this fairly quickly.

“Even better, normal people don’t know their IQ. So you know what your forster father does. You saw the news, you read the papers, you heard your classmates talk. In addition to that, the girls look alarmingly similar to you. And all of the sudden Charles is more often out than usual. So do us a favor and come clear.” Then he pulls out a picture from a manila folder on the table. Emily tries to intervene.

“Rossi, don’t. She is not the UnSub. (Y/N) is just unfortunate to be at the wrong place.” “She might as well be another UnSub if she doesn’t do anything to help us. Do you know how long you are going to jail for helping hi-”

“I don’t know anything. I- of course I saw what is h-happening. A-and I connected the dots a long time a-ago. You know, Charles lost his job and that’s a stressor. T-then Child Service was investigating him, because of the suspension’s reasons. I-I couldn’t do anything. I had no evidence, the police wouldn’t believe me. I asked him once wh-what he thinks about, you know, what’s happening. He slapped me and told me to not talk about it again. I’m so sorry, I wanna help. The only thing that comes into my mind is an old cabin he once mentioned when I first arrived at his. B-but I don’t know if it helps you. P-please, I don’t want to go to jail or juvenile, I-” Then (Y/N) breaks down into tears.

Emily is in an instant by her side trying to calm her down, while Hotch gives the information to Garcia. As soon as she finds the location, JJ takes a seat next to (Y/N) and the rest of the team flies out.

“You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, Sweetheart. My colleagues will find him and he will be tried and convicted. He will never be a threat to you again”, the blonde tries to comfort her.

“Whenever I leave an abusive home, there will be another one that’s exactly the same. The only difference with Charles was that he seemed to understand me. He helped me. There’s nobody who is willing to do what he did for me”, she admits sadly.

It breaks JJ’s heart, because her words are true. Even though he is a killer, Collins did help her. But she is also determined to show the young girl that he isn’t the only one who can do that. That there are more people out there, who are kind and as helpful if not more.

Not long after this the team brings the man into the station, Morgan guiding him with a deadbolt-like grip.

Rossi spots (Y/N) in a break room with a hot drink in her hands. While making his way over there, Spencer follows him. He wants to talk with her as well.

“(Y/N) I’m sincerely sorry if I hurt you earlier. I didn’t intend to scare you, we just had to act quickly and you were the only source of information available. I also wanted to tell you, that your achievements are astonishing and I guarantee you a bright future, maybe even at the FBI”, he winks at the end of his last sentence.

“I understand, Agent Rossi. But doesn’t everybody know their IQ? I assumed everybody gets at least tested once in their life in some way”, she asks with surprise in her voice.

At that the older man is speechless. Of all things she could accuse him of legitimately, (Y/N) goes with the most innocent question.

“Actually, not everybody gets tested. A reliable test has to be done by a psychologist and most people don’t go to one. Furthermore there has to be a valid reason to do one, that’s why a great part of the population doesn’t know their IQ”, intervenes Spencer. He has to infodump, since the last time was over half an hour ago.

“But you also have to differentiate between the several kinds of intelligence, because intelligence is way more than being good at math. There…”

Rossi stopped listening to the excited interaction between the two geniuses. Instead he watches their body languages and facial expressions. He hasn’t seen both of them more at calm than they are now.

After all there might be a way for (Y/N) to get a little Happy End.

[kkusuka]

Not a request (but it could be in the future!) but picture this, the Inarizaki boys and predator and prey play. Their s/o wearing little bunny ears and a bunny tail plug with the boys wearing matching Fox ears and a Fox plug (if they're up for a little anal). Bonus points if they go out and buy a knotting cock sheath from the likes of Bad Dragon! 😂

i know this wasn’t a request but being a house pet for these men is one of my favorite late night ideas<3

i soooooo badly wanted to make this a poly thing but individual pet play scenarios will do.

fem! anatomy, gn! pronouns, content warnings are included with each individual scenarios!

kita shinsuke

a cow and it’s breeder<3

(cw: breeding)

kita let’s you think you’ve won. he lets you run around in your pretty little sundress, stuffed and plugged, the bell on your collar ringing louder then the music wafting through the house.

he watched ears flop as you skipped his way, the shake in your legs, an indication of what was happening under the flowing bottom of your spotted dress. you stopped in front of him, like good cows do, waiting for him to address you, a past issue that he knows you’d learned from— the punishment having been sucking him off during a team reunion, with the whole team there.

“go.” following his command, you turn, your back facing where he sat, pulling your dress up, giving him a view of your panty-less ass and stuffed holes. the double plug hadn’t moved an inch from where he’d placed them that morning.

reaching forward, pulling the plug from your holes, taking note of the slick coating your pussy and the hitch in your breath, happy seeing your body had completely taken all of his cum.

pulling you back onto his lap, situation you onto his cock. pulling at your collar making you look at him while he moves a hand to the soft skin of your stomach.

“my little cow really wants their baby calf don’t they? they’re going to have to do a little work for it won’t they? don’t worry, daddy will stuff your breeding hole in just a minute, just bounce a bit for me ok?”

aran ojiro

a good puppy<3

(cw: slight dehumanization, caging, aran isn’t mean but damn is he strict)

he isn’t going to lie, knowing you’re crawling around behind him like a dutiful mutt will always make him smile, and a little hard. you’re always so good form him, kneeling before him while he watches tv, letting him pet you whenever he wanted.

he’s glad now that you’ve stopped pouting about being cold, dogs don’t wear clothes! you can use him anyway. he knows he’s gone a lot, and he really is sorry about it but that doesn’t give you the go ahead to be a bad dog.

the cage doesn’t mean he no longer wants to deal with you, he loves you so so much, but you have to learn, no amount of time gone should make you want to defy him. his rules are in place for a reason, he never wants you to get hurt! puppies are stupid and he can’t help but worry that if you get too far away form him, you will.

he can’t help it, your little nuzzles and how you whimper when you feel the plug in your poor little hole move, and how you take naps curled up into his arms and he can feel your ears rubbing against his skin.

you’re his pretty little puppy that he loves so so much!

atsumu miya

quick like a fox<3

(cw: predator/prey, public sex)

you knew it was a losing game, whenever atsumu tells you he has a game to play meant you were going to lose.

you expected a game of strip poker or something like that but you definitely didn’t expect to be dropped into a small flower field, butt naked with a new pair of fox ears and a plug tail, while atsumu counts down your time to run.

it was hard, so so hard to run away. your legs didn’t move like they normally did, you had no idea where you were going and you were so incredibly turned on. within a few minutes you could tell he was chasing you, the branches behind you crunching and his voice urging you to give up before he caught you.

your downfall was a more embarrassing one, tripped on a rock and falling into a stream, effectively ending whatever chance you had to win your stupid race.

“gottcha baby! you did so well, your ass look so pretty while you ran with your tail flailing around!”

it was no worry, after you get fucked you’ll get another chance. not that either of you beloved the outcome will be different.

osamu miya

a kitten drinking milk<3

(cw: blowjob, cum swallowing)

rewards are osamu’s favorite thing in the world.

he loves when you’re a good kitten, all sweet and pretty for him. you had made him so proud today!

sitting all pretty and quite on his lap during a call for the restaurant, so well behaved, the man on the other line couldn’t even tell you were there. he knew you were getting restless but still sat till the end like a good pet.

so as the good owner he is, a reward was in order.

on your knees swallowing his cum was a prefect reflection of your actions. watching your head bob along his cock, giving your all to make him happy, was the best view in the world.

he knew you liked it too, from the was you purred around his dick when he rubbed your ears, and seeing your hips sway, trying to feel any relief for the ache growing between your legs.

and don’t think he didn’t see the little quirk of your lips when you were done liking up his cum, mischievous kittens don’t get rewards, remember that.

suna rintarou

fucking like bunnies<3

(cw: breeding, exhibitionism, gave me a crazy idea for a fic)

suna liked you in three states; hopping around the house making sure everything is good for your owner, naked— with your ears and tail on display for his seeing, and bouncing on his cock like a whore begging for him to breed you.

it may be from the way your ears flop around or how he can see your tail swaying from behind you. it was most definitely form how you cry about how well he stuffs you and your whimpers when he shoves the plug back into your cunt after surfing more than a few loads into it.

and it’s no surprise he likes to show you off, shown in the sheer amount of times that atsumu has shown up and came into your apartment after suna had bred you so well. or how he just had to show of your plugs to aran, while they were still in you. or when kita visited and suna gave him a chance you breed your hungry pussy.

it’s not that you mind, your a house let for him to do whatever he wanted with. including all the photos he’s sent into the national team chat, expressing what a good breeding bunny you are. (to the shock of some of the younger members you’d never met.)

you do use it as a free chance to get back at home sometimes, like when hinata and kageyama asked you about the plug and you just had to lift your kirt and show them! it wasn’t your fault bokuto reached over and pulled one out, letting his cum flow down your leg! nor was it your fault ushijima said your pussy looked so nice stuffed to the brink.

all in all, suna loves his little bunny, he wouldn’t trade it for any other pet!

tags: @bakugos-cumsock

[that-was-anticlimactic]

reki with tourette’s headcanons

[ID: it’s reki from sk8 the infinity wearing a yellow sweatshirt with his hands on his hips. he’s wearing a red bracelet on his right wrist and he’s smiling. behind him is a touette’s syndrome awareness flag. end ID.]

so. @zukkaclawthorne got me hooked on reki with ts and now imma post headcanons i wrote oops

okay so first—that little skateboard he plays with??? stim toy, actually.

he likes the sound the wheels make—that whirrrrrr sound. it makes his arms flappy :)

he also finds the rolling motion soothing and relaxing and it always calms him down—it takes his mind to a happy place

he rocks back and forth and shakes his legs a lot. that also contributed to why he was terrible at skateboarding the first few times he tried—because his body would be like “time to rock back and forth!” and it would mess him up

neck twitches for days :)

no but for real—neck twitching is one of his worst tics because sometimes—if he’s in a bad mood or if he’s sad or anxious—it gets harsh and violent and really strains his neck.

so, langa gives him neck / upper back neck massages to help with the pain

he went through this phase for a couple of months where whenever his neck would twitch, he would snap his fingers two times.

he has a lot of hand tics which can be stressful when he makes skateboards because sometimes he’ll be in the groove and then suddenly he’ll mess something up

speaking of messing things up, he has a tendency to dig the bottom of his palm into his forehead whenever he feels like he does something stupid—he doesn’t even realize it until someone points it out.

he feels like even more of a failure of a skater because of his tics because they can hold him back and make the course more dangerous.

if his blinking tic resurfaces, sometimes the blinking gets so intense that he literally cannot see for anywhere between five seconds and a minute depending on how bad it is. that is how he got some of his worst scars.

or sometimes he’ll make a really aggressive hand motion and it throws him off balance on the skateboard due to the intensity

anyways back to hand tics: he points a lot and does symbols like the “rock on” sign or certain numbers (for some reason, the most common number for reki to throw up is four—though sometimes he throws up whatever number he hears) he also grunts a lot as a tic so he sounds angry even when he is’t.

sometimes, his hand tics really hurt and his hands become shaky and his fingers start to feel the way his heart feels when he’s anxious. langa helps in different ways—he holds reki’s hand, he gives him something to fidget with to try to distract him (sometimes it’s his own fingers—he’ll just set them in reki’s palm and be like “let me carry some of the pain”—no, reki didn’t totally cry when he said that what)

sometimes, reki sticks pencils in his ears. his teachers have been trying to stop it since he was young, but he always did it anyways—he couldn’t help it.

his hair is also long enough for him to chew on. yes, he chews on the tips of his hair because i say so. sometimes, to stop him from doing that (and from swallowing his own hair), langa will try to make him laugh so it falls out of his mouth and then he’ll scoot close and tuck the hair behind reki’s ears… once they start dating, he kisses him too. but also that’s one reason why he wears the headband—to try to keep his hair out of his face so he doesn’t chew on it.

reki’s favorite form of stimming (other than his skateboard toy, that is) is stress balls. he’s got a couple of stress balls in his room or backpack—even one with string attached so he can carry it around his wrist. he just really likes the texture of them.

after his second race against adam, cherry and joe were so proud of him and also impressed and worried dads that they bought reki a big stress ball, like, the size of a stuffed animal. it was a blue cat. he uses it all the time.

speaking of fricking adam, we all know he would so use reki’s tics against him during a race. like, when he grabbed his wrist and “danced” with him, he would mock reki’s tics or say creepy things about how his verbal tics are music and his motor tics are him dancing along and it makes him so uncomfortable and like even more shaken

oh and adam purposely does things to trigger his tics, like when i mentioned that number tic??? yeah, adam will purposefully say numbers to make reki do the hand gestures

one time, reki wanted to tell langa that he loved him but got nervous so he signed it in sign language instead. but, since reki’s tics are occasionally hand gestures, langa thought that it was just a tic and mentally was like “i wish that was for me…” and reki is like “i wish he knew it was real…” and joe, cherry, shadow, and miya are all facepalming and groaning at their obliviousness

reki prefers taking hand written notes to electronic notes because he draws / doodles to stim and he can’t really doodle well on a laptop. so, he’ll doodle in class all of the time

sometimes, his pictures / notes turn out pretty bad / illegible depending on how bad his tics are, but that doesn’t phase reki. it used to when he was younger, but it doesn’t bother him at all anymore. in fact, he thinks it adds personality

during class, he’ll draw pictures for langa and slid them on his desk. they’re usually really random things like the teacher or the back of someone’s head or squiggly lines or whatever he sees outside. more often than not, it’s abstract art. langa loves these drawings and he keeps them all on his desk in his room.

reki also started drawing pictures for the rest of the sk8 crew and gives it to them during races. when he gave everyone their first doodle, he was like “i’m not the best artist ever and sometimes my tics mess up the doodle, but i thought of you while i drew it so i want you to have it”

(shadow didn’t shed a couple of unwilling dad tears when he got home that night what)

anyways, they all keep them. every single one. miya puts them in their school binder so they don’t feel as alone / isolated at school.

although shadow and miya give reki a lot of crap / teasing about not being as good as everyone else, the second they hear anyone comment about “the weird red head that makes noises” and comments on his ts in a negative way, oh, they will stop you.

sometimes, reki whispers words he hears under his breath as a tic (echolalia, baby~) and when he overhears people saying stuff about “that redhead that always follows snow around” or about him not being good enough or how he’s an idiot to face adam, he ends up muttering that too. and it’s not a one and done kind of thing—like. he does it for days. it makes him so upset (and i already hc him, with depression so it just makes it worse)

having tics while having injuries is not a good combination—especially if it’s with a broken arm. the crew made sure to keep an eye of reki’s comfort / pain level after adam broke his arm and literally tried to kill him in their final race. joe let reki squeeze his hand whenever he felt the urge to tic and cherry would ask him how much pain he was in after he ticced and depending on how bad it would be, would make joe or shadow fetch a heating pad or an icepack for reki.

joe also taught reki about the magical thing called physical therapy tape and helped him put it on his shoulders, neck, and back one time. it was his idea to use the tape on reki’s fingers when he was injured to make him feel better (because it literally makes my fingers feel better)

also langa kisses each of reki’s fingers and knuckles, slowly and tenderly, soft so he doesn’t hurt him or trigger a tic. a way of showing that he loves him not despite his tics, but even with his tics and that he loves him and his tics.

cherry isn’t always the best at showing he cares, so he’ll wear a ts ribbon sometimes in a way to show support (and it makes reki beam)

shadow once gave reki a flower shaped stress ball because there were “extra at work” (not true—he went looking for one)

miya didn’t really know much about ts at first and asked why reki made those noises and made weird movements all the time and langa explained so then that night when miya got home, they did research on ts so they could understand it better. later, they told reki that whenever they called him a slime, they meant it purely about skateboarding and it had nothing to do with his tics—even that his tics didn’t make him less of a skater

all his life, reki had been the different one: the one no one wanted on the team because sometimes his tics messed him up, the one who was asked to leave classes during tests because his tics were too distracting and made him take the test in the hall, when sometimes he’d get too overwhelmed by how close people were in the halls or at races and would have panic attacks, how he rocked in his chair and adjusted his position seventeen times an hour and sat on his feet while the other kids didn’t, how he shook his legs more aggressively than others, how he couldn’t skate as well as everyone else because of his tics and because he wasn’t good enough

which is probably part of the depression that weighs on his shoulders

the first time reki had a panic attack during a race due to closeness and overstimulating noises (and this is the first one after the sk8 crew happened) langa was racing and wasn’t there to help, so shadow kind of panicked and like picked him up under the armpits and carried him away from the crowd since reki could barely process anything other than panic and the sound and feeling of static and they sat in shadow’s car for the rest of the race and once he felt better, he gave shadow a huge hug and shadow returned it.

one time it happened and cherry was nearby and he saw the signs before it got bad (remembered from the previous time / his own experiences) and helped talk reki down before it got bad (he has a soothing voice)

usually, though, when / if it happens (because reki usually feels safe there), langa is the one who helps

but it got so much worse after skating against adam the first time because he no longer felt safe and suddenly everyone cheering adam’s name even after witnessing what he did to reki was too much but langa was racing adam so langa wasn’t there and this time it was joe who kneeled in front of him and started talking just loud enough for reki to hear and he was like “you’re safe—we won’t let anyone hurt you. we won’t let him hurt langa. you’re safe. i’m here and so is cherry and shadow and miya and langa will be waiting for you at the end of the race…”

it happens again at the next race he goes to—and this time it’s miya who notices and they tug on langa’s sleeve and is like “i think you need to take reki somewhere else” and langa does :)

okay i’ll end on a positive ts note or two—langa asks reki to add the ts ribbon to the design on his skateboard

shadow finds chewelry at the store one day when he’s shopping and buys it for reki (and gets a matching one for langa!)

once reki came back after his mental health break, the first thing joe said to him was, and this is nonnegotiable “reki! i missed you and your tics!”

miya once overheard reki muttering to himself about his annoying tics were, so they intervened and was like “your tics aren’t annoying. they’re you and anyone who think s they’re annoying is an idiot”

and for the first time in his life, reki doesn’t feel alone and isolated and so different from everyone (at least, he’s working on that last one) and he’s finally found a group of people who want him on their team and a boyfriend who always supports him and makes him feel less isolated, tics and all <3

i uhh I have a lot of feelings,,,

[yanderart]

   Once you found Shouto on the Anti-Purge forums, it felt so wonderful to be understood. So comforting to finally have someone you could rely on...

So, when you got a letter notifying you of your selection for the Annual Purge later on, of course you went to seek his help.

Should’ve known better than to trust strangers online, though.

My fic/portrait convo for the Yandere Purge Collab, from the Lovesick Discord. And please check the rest of the m. list for other amazing works set in the same AU!

Under the cut is the actual fic (Todoroki x Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 10k), as well as the respective TWs. Hope y'all enjoy 🥀

-------

Tws: Usual yandere ones (stalking, manipulation, delusion). Dub-con/Non-con. Non-consensual Drug Use, aka Aphrodisiacs. Death threats and sexism (from randoms on the forum, not Todo). 

-------

   You couldn’t think straight —hadn’t been able to since waking up again. All you could recognize amidst the fog currently obscuring your thoughts was the longing, prolonged, and tangible in its hold over your being.

You felt hot all over, the flames licking at your skin burning brightly as you squirmed from your place, eagerly attempting to get closer to the cold reprieve emanating from the man that held you. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N." One of his hands was steering you on his lap, the other one gently massaging your shoulders in a comforting motion. “I can only help you if you do."

If your judgment had not been overcast by the desire pushing away your self-awareness, then perhaps you could’ve heard the faint hint of amusement in his voice. Perhaps you would’ve thought to look up and finally encounter the content shine of his heterochromatic eyes.

“I feel…" speaking was laborious, your tongue impossibly weighty and your mind swirling with thoughts that escaped any semblance of coherence. “I feel hot all over. It hurts.”

The hand positioned around your waist went to search for one of your clenched ones, easily engulfing it in his grip as he nudged the side of your face with his chin rather tenderly. A gentle encouragement for you to stay attentive, anchoring you to the moment despite your dazed mindset. 

“Show me then,” his low timbre tickled your skin, sending another wave of excruciating heat to wreak havoc inside your body, “Let me know where it hurts.”

With a stuttering sigh, you proceeded to press both of your hands to your lower stomach, gulping audibly before bringing them further down. Dancing just short of your underwear while your eyelids fluttered shut. 

You knew your actions were out of character deep down. Even recognized the shadow of wrongness that distorted the current scene. You weren't supposed to do such things, weren't supposed to feel like that…

But the reality was that you were so excruciatingly warm by that point, and his palm felt so deliciously cold. 

When you heard the dreadful siren going off in the distance, the instantly recognizable sound of the Purge starting at last, you were already too far gone to think of anything else but the fingers brushing against the thin cotton of your panties, so close to the evidence of your need soaking through them. 

Your parents had told you not to trust strangers online once upon a time. You should’ve really taken their advice more to heart.

。。。。。

   But first, perhaps a little tracing of your steps is in order —some necessary context to fully understand the extension of your plight. 

You see, earlier that day you had woken up full of a peculiar mix of drive and determination. It was indeed Purge Day, the single day of the year you had grown to fear the most  ever since childhood, and yet for once you found yourself oddly relaxed, filled to the brim with resolve instead of your usual nerves. 

Which was already an unexpected turn of events, considering you had just gotten a letter notifying you of your selection as one of the accursed Darlings of the Night. 

A gentle reminder that, if caught, your life would stop belonging to yourself for an entire dreadful year. 

Because a Yandere had their sight on you now, or so the notice had informed you in impeccable typography. Anxious fingertips memorized the slight raise of inked words, inspecting every single detail the letter carried.

You had imagined a monster ready to pounce just outside your door then, fitting enough to be the carrier of your bad news. A preternaturally grotesque being, built from all the Yandere themed horror stories you had heard throughout the years.  

And yet there you were, feeling safer in that instant than you had in years; Because this time you had a plan. He made sure to give you one you could easily follow.

Just like he later made sure to welcome you in with a kind smile and awfully persistent hospitality. 

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

You should've known better than to accept.

。。。。。

   In the present, fingers were now dipping under the elastic of your panties, ghosting across feverish skin and encouraging your whimpers to grow louder. 

"Is this what you want, then?" The man's breath tickled one of your ears, rough digits gathering your slickness with practiced ease. And he sounded genuinely concerned too, as if your discomfort was not a consequence of his own machinations. "Because I wanna ease your pain, baby. Give you what you truly need."

He barely even touched you yet you were already struggling not to crumble, the desire governing your mind mixing with the new sensations to create a new delirious kind of torment. 

Continuing to tease you, the man was relentless in his torture, barely even brushing over your neediest spots. A gentle press of his palm to stimulate you for a moment before pulling back, much to your shameful frustration; Better than nothing, but not close enough. 

In his own way, though, he was urging you to speak up. Expecting you to demand what you truly wanted. 

Yet as a retort, all you could come up with was gasping out his name, dripping from your lips like honeyed prayers as your hips fought to buck up against his hand. 

 A sound you afterward repeated a hundred times over. Chanted until its melody became engraved on your tongue and the man was finally caving in, sliding his fingers inside with a smirk. 

He had known you'd end up caving, had planned for it for months now, and yet nothing had prepared him for the actual view.

。。。。。

   Shou, actually, had been his username when you first met him. Once upon a time recited with a genuine smile and an eagerness to please, such a far cry from the anguished whines it would later lead up to.

You started frequenting the forum he inhabited a few months back. A place which happened to be a hidden corner of the internet for people who did not just stumble upon it, but actually sought it out. A part of the web where its occupants challenged societal norms and, against what society had tried to condition you all into thinking,  chose to voice their taboo Anti-Purge sentiments instead. 

Sentiments perhaps born either due to the inherent discriminatory nature of the holiday (why was it that Yanderes were accommodated for, while Darlings barely got a warning before they were made prey?), a need for contrarianism (when opposing open kidnappings, assault and other debauchery became an act of rebellion), or just a tenuous moral high ground which made it unbearable to stomach. Whatever the reason, it was your first time encountering such a density of like-minded peers.

Despite attempting to commit yourself to being a lurker, deciding to never post or reply to others, your days had still quickly become consumed by the need to read each and every topic. You were simply fascinated with this new dark corner of the web. 

That was, of course, until the aforementioned Shou became the main focus of your attention, a dash of intriguing brightness to break the monotony of your existence.

And like moths rushing to the flame, your curiosity would be your undoing.  

There was something about him that pulled you in (along with many others from the community, which tended to flock on his posts whenever he grazed the forums). His username was clearly just a nickname instead of a carefully crafted pseudonym; profile picture just an image of the back of what you all assumed to be his hair, dual-toned strands catching the light in a hypnotic way.

Truly, his disregard for anonymity within those parts was a bigger statement than you were expecting, almost as commendable as it was dumbfounding. There was the nature of his postings too, never subtle about his inclinations or ideas. 

   How to disarm and reutilize Purge Traps. 

   Most effective ways to incapacitate a violent assailant.  

   Government lies and why they matter. 

   Faking a BOPC (breach of purge code) and getting away with it.

There was little method to the madness that was his forum activity, besides the hint that he was evidently more knowledgeable about the subject than most. Plus the fact that he was proactive about his advice, actually seeking to teach others to fight back instead of just hide away and hope for the best. For another self-proclaimed Darling, Shou was ruthless with his methods —it was hard not to admire him.

And admire you did, keeping tabs of his sporadic bursts of activity and speeding to try and interact with him whenever you caught him online. You were, to voice it simply, simply star-truck by him (and perhaps becoming a bit of a fangirl). 

Because whoever Shou was, it felt like he understood you. And so, against every ounce of your common sense or natural paranoia, you had finally decided to break your golden rule and reach out for the first time since you joined the niche forum. 

And not to just leave a vague comment agreeing on public discourse, but to actually send him a private message. In your defense, how were you supposed to know the chains of events your actions would start?

   Do you actually believe what you post?, had been your lame conversation starter. 

Luckily for you, he did not leave you hanging. You made sure to send the message while he was still active, one of the few days a week you knew he devoted to his presence on the site (and wasn't it slightly creepy, how you had taken the time to learn his schedule by that point?)

   I wouldn't be here if I didn't, dry, to the point and leaving you embarrassed to have even sent the first question. 

Yet for some reason, something about Shou reverted you back into a middle school kid seeking to impress a way cooler senior. 

Perhaps it was what he symbolized (a change for the better), what he appeared to be (everything you wish you were) —whatever it was, your fingers were frantically typing a reply as soon as his appeared on your screen. 

   I just think it's amazingThe things you know

   How you share them with everyone

   The way you see through the lies

   I just think you're— , your digits hovered over the keyboard as you were about to type out the last sentence before quickly deleting it. Even in your excitement, you knew how obsessed you'd sound if you started complimenting him personally in your very first conversation. 

So instead you sent your thoughts on his posts and awaited his answer with bated breath. A few minutes ticked by this time, your anxiety making you count down the seconds in mortified silence, slowly weighted down by your doubts until your notifications for the forum were going off again with a distinct ping. 

   I've seen your replies around. I think you're great too. 

Whatever your hang ups for praising him directly had been, he clearly did not harbor any. As the prongs of nervousness alleviated their hold over your body, you struggled to see any problems with it either…this was a person you had come to idolize, and they thought you were great?

Your smile, while still anxious, was considerable while you quickly responded. 

   I'm just a n00b. Learning from the pros. 

A moment of thought, biting your bottom lip as you decided whether to add a second message or not. Fuck it, you told yourself. 

   I wasn't even supposed to be posting anything, but you made me wanna reach out. 

Was that too forward? Oh god, it was, wasn't it? You must've sounded creepy, must've sounded desperate and…

   That's cute. Did my ramblings teach you anything? 

An actual squeal left you then, sounding like it came from an altogether different person. You were an adult, with a career and responsibilities… Yet somehow, this stranger online indirectly calling you cute made you more excited than you were comfortable admitting.

   Ofc. I didn't even know what a BOPC was before. Didn't know most of the purge traps you mentioned, either. 

The spaces between replies were getting smaller, the conversation turning fluent as you both seemed to be staring straight into the screen, waiting for the other to finish typing. 

   So you really are a n00b then. 

Shit, did you fail some sort of forum etiquette by admitting that? Somehow, the need to impress Shou was more palpable than ever. 

   And you clearly know your stuff. Makes me wanna up my game. 

Be more like you, you left unsaid. 

   So am I your senpai then? 

Your fingers froze just above the keyboards, eyes scanning over Shou's last message and reverted back to staring at his profile pic for a solid minute. You would've squealed again, if you weren't so taken aback. 

   You make it sound like I am, his second message lit up your screen, coming in quickly after your rare pause in replies.

   I don't think that's bad, though. Third message from him, and you were close to fainting now. 

   Then in that case I suppose you are. You wondered whether Shou wouldn't think you were pathetic admitting that, or whether he had been honest by saying he didn't mind... 

   I've also noticed you agreeing with some of my more polarizing views. 

A welcomed change in topics. 

You thought to ask him which ones (most of his posts tended to have a polarizing effect, with people finding him either too radicalized or not radicalized enough), but before you could formulate the question you saw the twinkling circles symbolizing he was typing up another sentence.

   Do you actually believe them? And now it was his turn to spit your words back at you. 

   Well, yah. You make compelling arguments. 

   Color me impressed then, the start of his new retort left your mind spinning. Never met a n00b like you before. 

After his declaration, you found yourself writing and rewriting your answer, hesitating on your word choice, and yet pure elation coursed through your veins. 

He said he's impressed with me, your brain kept supplying on loop. You had no way of knowing just how much of a lasting impression you were leaving. 

   I don't wanna stay one tho. I'd like to jump a few levels. Improve.

Barely a moment's notice before his last message provoked a noticeable hitch in your breath. 

   I can help you with that. 

Which, as short of a reply as it was, left you giddier than would’ve been healthier to admit. 

Perhaps it could be chalked up to your work shifts growing more monotonous and tiresome, your social life becoming a faint echo of what it used to be, or just the regular wear and tear from a too-plain existence —a routine where you didn’t tend to engage with life, but just passively watched it go by.

Whatever the true reason was, that night you went to sleep with such a wide grin that the apples of your cheeks had started to hurt from the exertion, infinitely excited after getting to talk firsthand with someone you had already come to admire by that point. 

It almost made you self-conscious, knowing just how much it all meant to you, how such a small gesture on his part happened to mean the world to you. 

But there was really no reason to feel ashamed or overzealous over your own reaction. If you could’ve seen Shou, you would’ve known you weren’t the only one smiling.

。。。。。

   Almost as open of a smile as the one adorning his features right now, currently hidden from your view as his fingers set a maddening pace. Tortuously slow at first until his knuckles started brushing against your opening with each thrust. 

All you could hear now were the wet sounds of your arousal facilitating his movements, motions whose only purpose seemed to be to drive you more rambling and disoriented by the second. 

"Is this what you want? What you need, perhaps?" His usually calm voice was uncharacteristically affected as he gasped against your ear, the torture he was making you endure clearly getting to him as well. 

You were much too preoccupied with the waves of pleasure and warmth overflowing your body to give a proper response, but your lack of one did not deter him. 

If anything, your needy gasps and whines were the only encouragement he required. 

"Don't worry, Y/N. I'll take care of you, make you feel good."

By that point, the hand that had been petting your hair had found its way to your sopping heat too, calloused pads circling around your pearl while the man continued feeding you his eager promises. 

"I get you, baby. Just like you get me." So close, your entire body taut and ready to snap. "And you want me to take care of you too, right?"

You weren't conscious enough to understand the implications, your impaired judgment prohibiting you from reading further into the meaning of his words. He sounded so encouraging, so deceivingly tender despite stuffing you full of his fingers as you squirmed on his lap. 

All you could do was nod furiously.

And later on, when your senses sadly returned, dedicated yourself to lamenting over which of your actions brought you down this unfortunate path. 

。。。。。

    Perhaps, your consciousness supplied, it had been the fact that you opened up so readily. That you had dared to share with a supposed new friend, things that should’ve better stayed hidden in the first place.   

But goddamn it, you felt downright honored that he even considered you worthy enough to entertain in the first place. From the very first second, Shouto already had the upper hand. 

During the first few conversations, the topics you two discussed were all closely related to the purge and your mutual hang ups with it. Concise and carefully typed out messages were exchanged, discussing opinions you had never expected anyone to be interested in hearing—not from you, at least. 

But then, as the weeks slowly progressed, the subjects of conversation began shifting to both of your lives, to your occupations, hobbies, and, directly against the forum's policy for privacy, the people you two were outside the confines of your online corner. 

Even without actually exchanging any real data or supplying him with your name or age, you found yourself starting to open up more and more with each day.

You told him about your grueling office job, the friends you hadn’t seen or texted in weeks, and the reality of an apartment which more closely resembled a containment cell than a home…

Revelations that you had kept hidden for so long, which now came pouring out without regard for how mortified they made you feel. You were conscious of the limits blurring between you two the further you kept going, of how you were telling him things best left unsaid, cramped and buried in a hard to reach place. 

And yet, for some obscure reason, everything Shou represented made it impossible for you to resist the temptation to speak up, to demand to be heard for the first time in an eternity of quietness. 

You’re pathetic, is what you expected him to say in return. Pathetic, weak, meager, and worthless. Anticipating him, somehow, to echo all the doubts and deeply held fears you carried inside. 

   Most of my friends don’t understand either, was instead the response you  received. But most people don’t see what's wrong, what needs to be changed. You feel lonely because you do.

It wasn’t clear what you would’ve wanted to hear beforehand, the things you had fantasized someone would reply if you ever gathered the courage to share your anxieties. Whatever those expectations had been an eternity ago, they now vastly paled when compared to what your new friend was dangling in front of you. 

It felt like he was giving an excuse for things you had always perceived as personal failings. If what he said was true, it would mean it wasn’t your social ineptitude that kept people away, your uselessness, or uninteresting personality.

It would mean the shadows around you could still be dispelled somehow, exorcising the silhouettes of a suffering that had become a regular companion in your day to day life.

Brandishing a courage that only anonymity could give you, your fingers were a blur on your keyboard as you tried to ignore the rapid heartbeat in your chest, the fear, and exhilaration from opening up for the first time in forever. 

Something you would later regret a thousand times over.

   And you do too, and it wasn’t a question, a nervous comment or a stuttered retort. With the aid of the text format, you could look as confident as you knew you weren’t. You understand as well. 

You understand me, was the tacit meaning behind it. The prickling of unshed tears made it so you were furiously blinking, fighting against the downpour despite your eyes refusing to leave the screen for longer than an instant. 

   I do. More than you realize.

For all intents and purposes, your first mistake was indeed opening up. 

And your second one was being naive enough to let him in. Seriously, why hadn’t you heeded your parent’s advice about stranger danger?

。。。。。

   ...If they could only see you now, coming apart at the seams and with the name of your tormentor being the only word you were able to string together. 

"Such a beauty, and all for me," his praises accompanied you through the rough orgasm ripping through your body, lips kissing your forehead in stark contrast to the digits still pumping inside your heat. "Let me hear your voice, baby. Let me hear how beautiful my name sounds on your lips."

And you obeyed, because what other choice did you have. Mindless, broken, and oh, so needy. 

You continued to audibly moan as your climax unwound, crying out his name in absolute reverence while Shouto's smile deepened against your skin. The chill of his touch was still as soothing as ever, calming down the embers of a lust that refused to completely die down.

When he finally pulled his hands from your core, you felt excruciatingly empty. But you were not given enough time to wallow in your despair, because who you once considered your friend was then grasping your face gently between his hands, leading your gaze to meet his—forcing you to witness the intensity and adoration present there. 

"My Y/N."

Even in your deeply intoxicated state, the last few dredges of your senses supplied just how utterly abhorrent the situation was. 

The sirens signaling the start of the Purge had died down a while ago, drowned out by your own cries of pleasure, but you could still see the remnants of the government logo still plastered all over the TV, its bright glow bathing you both in an eerily scarlet ambiance. 

From the same weak place of coherence, a shiver of fear managed to break through your stupor. 

"You're going to continue to be a good girl for me, aren't you?" 

When he kissed you then, slow and almost ironically hesitant despite what had just transpired moments before, you couldn't begin to tell your body to refuse. Much to your own horror, you were soon eagerly kissing your tormentor back. 

。。。。。                                                      

   The second mistake leading up to your downfall, on the other hand, took a little longer to occur. It was after a few more weeks of conversation. You vented and talked way too much, while Shou listened intently and even rewarded you with a few crumbs of advice of his own.  

So wrapped up in your new seemingly innocuous friendship you were in, you failed to recognize the magnitude of an event that should've sent you scrambling to shut off your monitor. A warning so loud it would've put the Purge sirens themselves to shame. 

You see, with Shou's help, you were slowly becoming more of an active user around those parts. You didn't just stick to replying to his posts or lurking until he shot you a private message anymore; no, you were now officially a contributor, deciding to step out of your anonymity to share what you thought was a fairly interesting article. It was a rather long-winded thinkpiece on the morality of Darlings’ treatment after the Purge had ended—the reality of that year spent in captivity that most people tended to just brush under the carpet, all in the name of making the entire ordeal more palatable to digest. 

In all your eagerness, however, you had failed to realize a very crucial detail, which was that the article was a whole two days old. Already an ancient text by forum's standards, apparently. 

So with that in mind, of course you should've expected the hate, an outpouring of bitterness fit for a community of loners and acidic underdogs. You were on an anonymous forum on one of the darkest parts of the internet, somewhere most sane people actively stayed away from—Clearly, a rookie unwittingly reposting something was the perfect target for a lot of your bitter comrades. An excuse to finally take out all of their pent up frustration.  

   Fuck1ng pleb, thanks for copy-pasting the same post for the 55th time. 

   This is why we shouldn't let newbies post. Look at this mess @mods.

   Time to hang it up, n00b. And by “it”, I mean your f****** neck.  

   i bet ur a girl, [Username]. u type like a b1tch. 

And the icing on the cake for internet interactions, a myriad of wall spamming "KYS" being plastered all across the comment section, bold and daunting as they filled your notification box with the repetitions of hate. If you weren't so sure of your safety behind your screen, perhaps you would've felt intimidated. 

As it stood, you were just embarrassed, mortified at the fact that you had seemingly botched your only attempt at leaving a positive first impression. If anything, it only seemed you had given everyone a common enemy to pick on for once...

Or that was, at least, until Shou happened to log in at exactly that precise moment. You knew he was usually busy around that day and time (he never actually told you whether he had a job, but you had surmised as much from your past chats), so his instantly recognizable profile picture and username popping up had you genuinely gasping at first. It was one hell of a coincidence, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at what looked to be your savior.

   Everyone, stop getting your panties in a twist. This is why no new users end up staying, the environment is abhorrent. 

It was vague enough not to betray the fact that you two weren’t just strangers anymore, as well as keeping Shou’s reputation as a lone wolf from completely shattering.

And a comment which, surprisingly, instantly dulled most of the incoming messages your post was being flooded with. 

People respected him there, his status as a renowned user giving him a genuine sort of power and hold over the rest of the community. One of the first things you had recognized on the forums was the distinct hierarchical structures amongst its users, and there Shou might’ve as well be granted the title of mayor for all the weight his every sentence carried.

Or at least they did with the majority of the community. As in every place where large numbers of people gathered, there were always a few rotten apples just begging to be tossed. 

   and ofc ur whiteknighting for her, Shou The Great. shes sucking ur dick under evry single post u make

You cringed, studying the bitter user that had decided to be a contrarian and easily recognizing him from unsavory past encounters you witnessed. Although, if you were completely honest, this time you couldn't exactly say his words didn't carry a certain degree of validity.

Shou had told you he was glad that was the case with you, that his post resonating with anyone was one of the main reasons why he hadn't just disappeared from the site completely. But in reality, saying you weren't subtle about your agreement with his ideas would be an understatement. 

You were like a puppy skipping behind him, trailing his interactions and always ready to write an eager comment backing him up. Yet you had never thought others actually paid attention to your mostly one-sided interactions, the occasional meager downvote or emote being the only thing that made you aware your comments weren’t just lost in the sea of spam Shou’s posts were usually showered in. 

For the longest time, your support had just felt like leaving letters for the man to find. Letters you hadn’t even been sure had reached their target until a few weeks back...

Suddenly, the sharp sound of Shou's incoming reply drove you from your tribulations.  

   Well, maybe if you weren't such a crude man you wouldn't be permabanned from starting topics yourself. Although I doubt anyone would be sucking your dick either way, shitty ideology considered. [Image attached]

A grimace was quick to grow on your face as you aptly studied the picture Shou decided to close his reply with.

It was a screenshot of what looked to be someone's post history, a rather extensive list with alarmingly offensive titles such as "Why male darlings should be spared", "The purge is a form of cuckoldry" and “Feminist agenda: female yanderes and their biological advantage [Repost]". Almost all of them exhibited a tragic downvote ratio right as well, besides the red symbol signaling the posts had been archived by senior users or mods.

For someone who also loathed the terrible holiday, it was almost admirable how the man managed to be almost as detestable as the criminals you all rallied against. 

But even so, what disturbed you the most wasn't the clear bigotry of the user, but the fact that that screenshot couldn't have been taken from public records. A user's post history was hidden, just another measure on the site’s part to keep people from recognizing too many details about each other and possibly endangering themselves. 

No, it could only have been taken from inside the account. And judging from the other guy's quick reaction, you weren't the only one who came to that realization.

   how the fck did u get that

   I knew u were friends with the mods. fcking rats 

By that point, everyone else had stopped clogging the comments and, you assumed, instead opted to settle down and attentively observe the events transpiring. Apart from the emote reactions and the rapidly rising number of upvotes on Shou’s comments, you had all become a passive audience to the public ridicule.

Although you couldn’t help feeling slightly disjointed by Shou’s behavior. Below your wicked sense of pride at having him defend you, there was still the whispers of your gut telling you the man was going a little too far, his actions spelling a more sinister meaning than just “having a friend’s back”.

   You've been here for years, Minoru. Surprised you haven't yet noticed how much of a pest everyone sees you as. 

Minoru? You did a double-take, going back to read the username of the guy Shou was arguing with. But he just had a randomly generated number as a pseudonym, same as you and most others, and with just a picture of some anime sneezing girl to distinguish his profile from the rest. No trails or signs of what could Shouto be referencing to.

Nothing but an option you preferred not to consider. But it couldn't be, could it? your friend wouldn’t...

   fucking delete that right now, man.

   this isn't a joke, DELETE THAT. 

Only that the abrasive and desperate reaction told you everything you needed to know. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, shock mixing with equal parts horror and amazement you couldn’t even begin to try and disentangle. Because right that second, you were witnessing your friend breaking the forum’s number one rule with a front-row seat to the spectacle. 

And he was doing it all in your name.

   Then maybe think twice before you go out of your way to harass newbies. Or have you had too much time on your hands after being fired, is that it?

It was vague enough not to represent any kind of threat... if not for the context of the site. And yet you all knew the hidden message behind it, the warning for whoever Minoru was to understand Shou knew much more than what he was letting on. That he could expose much more than he was currently alluding to. 

   y are u even doing this, shou? y do u care wtf happens to this noobslut anyways?

Shou's reply took barely a moment to appear, lighting up your screen and, despite the slightly morbid nature of his protection, coaxing out a smile to adorn your lips. It was like a balm being applied to your worries, quieting down most of your incipient concerns in favor of rejoicing. 

   They're a friend. 

For fuck’s sake, you even screenshotted that for posterity. Somehow, him acknowledging the new bond you two had openly felt like a milestone. 

When a mod came in to archive the post and give everyone involved a stern warning later on, you were already way past your previous doubtful sentiments. 

Instead, the last thing you did before going to sleep that day was to open up your private conversation with Shou and send a quick yet heartfelt message of gratitude his way. 

Months prior, you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d be thanking anyone for semi doxxing another human being. How rapidly things were changing, though, and all while you got lost in the thrill of mattering.

   Thanks for sticking up for me. It meant a lot, you typed feeling slightly lightheaded, drunk on the idea that anyone would think you worthy of having your back.

You thought Shou went offline after dishing out his not so thinly veiled threats, but somehow he was back again in an instant, the sound of notifications going off shaking any remnants of your exhaustion.  

   Anything for you, [Y/N]. 

You were so tired, it didn't occur to you that you hadn't yet shared your real name with your friend either.

That night, for once, you fell asleep with a twinkle in your eye and the image of Shou's multicolored locks dancing against your eyelids. Imagining, ever so briefly, your fingers trailing down the back of a neck you now had memorized from analyzing his profile picture. 

And, while you slept with your phone clutched to your side, you also failed to notice the peculiar sound of your own camera going off, the soft glow from the red light beside your lense bathing your features in its subtle illumination, flickering against your eyelashes and the lingering grin on your curved lips. 

You truly looked angelic like that. 

Suffice it to say, Minoru never bothered you again after that day. In fact, his name disappeared from the site not too soon after. 

。。。。。                                                   

    But now, to continue the grueling task of giving a context for your inevitable end, it is necessary to jump a month further into the future, barely a week from the excruciating present. 

Because it was then that the last strike finished nailing the coffin of your proverbial undoing, burying you under the weight of your own ignorance.

You got your notice in the mail on the Day of Announcements, an inconspicuous letter lacking any further distinction beyond a scarlet government seal emblazoned across its front. But even before you opened and read the message, you already knew of its contents—easily recognizing the image before you from several of the varied posts you had seen floating around on the forums lately.

   Purge Notice!!! Help needed Urgently. 

   Just got my letter. Do I stay hidden or fight back? [Open poll]

   Third time getting mine. AMA about my methods. 

The range of how you had seen other users reacting to their own selections was diverse, with some of them being more experienced while others, such as you, had just gotten their first letter ever. If things played out differently for you, then you were sure you would've been another one of the numerous panicked voices, awkwardly trying to maneuver their way out of their new situation.

And maybe, then, your odds wouldn't have been so completely fucked from the start. 

As it stood, as soon as you laid eyes on the notice, the first thing you thought of was how quickly you could boot up your computer and open the forum’s private messages. Because, for the first time in forever, you were overwhelmed by the feeling of someone else being there for you. 

Shou was your friend, had earned that spot fair and square after months of listening to you venting and sharing deep discussions; faster than you could even realize it, and so it was only natural for you to seek his help once the news of your selection for the new yearly Purge reached you. 

He had even threatened another user for your sake, for fuck’s sake. So, really, what harm could come out of relying on someone you were sure was trustworthy?

Maybe it was too late by that point for you to snap out of it, but it was almost amusing seeing you being so easily deceived. 

Just another reason why you needed him, certainly.

 。。。。。

    Already told you I'd have your back, had been his immediate reply barely an instant after you attached a candid photo of your hand holding up the envelope. Whatever you need, I’m here.

His lack of hesitation was palpable through your screen, heart hammering in your chest as you were faced with a kindness you had thought yourself undeserving of not long ago. 

As soon as you closed your mailbox, you had immediately raced to send him the message, completely foregoing telling any of your other friends or family members when you doubted they would even understand you in the first place. Shou had been right when he told you people just didn’t want to see the truth, even if it slapped them right in the face, leaving dark imprints in the shape of their narrow mindedness.

But he was there, he was letting you know as much, in his own words. And for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few months, you felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon the Forums in the first place, to have traced whatever fortunate path had led you to find him—the one person able to distinguish you in a world you always thought you blended straight into. 

   Thank you, Shou, for everything. And at that moment, you really had been truthful, so much so that there were tears prickling at your eyes, an overwhelming feeling of gratitude drowning you with its intensity.

Indeed, your final mistake had been your desperate need for acceptance. A need that had, in the end, cost you everything.

   You can call me Shouto now. No use for nicknames anymore.

Amidst the chaos of your life possibly crashing down all around you, somehow his revelation put a trembling smile back in your face. 

   Then allow me to repeat: thank you, Shouto. 

   Np, Newbie. Told you I'd help you level up, didn't I? 

His teasing managed to garner a small stuttering laugh out of you despite the dreadfulness of your situation. 

But you couldn’t help it. Somehow, every reply Shouto sent you only served to wrap the illusion of safety tighter around you. So tight in fact, that you should’ve started worrying about suffocating. 

。。。。。

   On the other side of the screen, the man with the multicolored hair couldn’t help but keep staring at the picture you had sent him earlier. 

He was transfixed, eyes almost unblinking as they refused to separate from the image. The way your fingers tentatively held the letter up for the picture was simply adorable to him. Beautifully naive. 

It wasn't like he hadn't seen your face before, like he hadn't already memorized the texture of your skin and the everlasting trace of a frown always threatening to dampen your mood. He read your expressions like poetry, every mole and scar furthering the securing of his interest. 

But this was the first picture you had actually chosen to send him out of your own volition, the final symbol of a trust he had worked so tirelessly to earn. Used to catching prey as he was, the man wasn’t entirely sure when you had turned from a game into a priority, from a priority into the only thing he could even make himself care for.

And it didn’t help that it was his letter you were holding, too. His formal declaration of pursuit. 

With time, Shouto was sure you would find it in yourself to appreciate the beauty of such irony. 

But, for now, what he really needed to do was buy some tea. Couldn’t have your own stubbornness ruining your first encounter, could he?

。。。。。

   In the coming weeks, your friend aided you and even coached you as you jointly planned for the horrific holiday, not only suggesting ideas but tracing the safety measures needed for them to succeed. You really had no reason to doubt him by that point.

That evening, after you finished letting Shouto know you were back from work, you made sure to pack all of your supplies into an inconspicuous bag you had acquired for the occasion. Whoever your Yandere was, it was best to not give any hints of your new acquisitions, just in case they were already stalking your movements. 

Shouto had helped you devise the list, mentoring you in your selection of weapons as well as self-defense arsenal—what brands of pepper spray to get, which ammunitions were most efficient and reliable, even what kind of clothing was the least troublesome if the need to escape ever arose. If you had been sure he knew his craft before, now you were surprised at just how vast his wisdom genuinely was. 

After the last few finishing touches of preparations, you were already on your way to the direction you had both agreed on (supplied by him, approved by you). There were several hours until the start of the Purge still, but the adrenaline swimming through your bloodstream was already considerable. 

Shouto had suggested you visited him for the Holiday, quoting how the measures in place for his home made it nothing short of a fortified vault, impossible for any outsiders to break into (and for anyone to break out of, but let's not get ahead of ourselves). 

With that in mind, how could you have refused his offer? Your place was barely an excuse for an apartment, windows that didn't entirely close, and feeble doors that could be easily broken into. Even if you weren't partly driven by the curiosity of meeting your new internet idol turned friend, it would've been foolish to decline. 

So in a few hours, you were sporting a nervous smile on your face as you parked your car in front of the largest apartment complex you had ever encountered. It was luxurious in a way you had only seen staring back at you from a television screen, marble, and gold accents giving you the impression you were about to step into a drama set instead of visiting an online friend. 

Before the surrealism of the entire situation could begin to set in, however, you noticed the young man sitting on the ample stairs of the building. He had an air of effortless elegance, tall and lithe, yet sporting a black turtleneck which hugged his frame and made it clear just how much sheer strength hid behind his movements. 

And he also sported the same peculiarly colored locks you had already memorized from the last few months, the light softly reflecting on them proving to be an even more impressive show when admired live. 

You were dazzled for an instant, wondering if, somehow, this entire thing was a prank and the Shou from the forums had just schemed his way into making a fool out of you in front of a handsome stranger. Way too convoluted, yet entirely too plausible to your bewildered self. 

Until the man lifted his eyes—as beautifully dual-toned as his hair, and catching sight of you standing just beside your recently parked vehicle. 

"Y/N," he was sharply climbing to his feet as he called out your name, the shy hint of a smile in his lip contradicting the monotone cadence of his tone. "Good to finally meet you."

You had first been under the impression that the Shou you knew was cold, the way he interacted with others on the site reminding you of an emotionless robot at times, but the man addressing you seemed like he was ripped straight out of a stereotypical rom-com. 

Maybe he'd be the aloof, tormented heir? Which, in your fantasy drama land, would make you the nearly illiterate and poor love interest. Your feelings of inadequacy only grew at the comparison.

Almost cute, how that had been one of your greatest worries once upon a time. How foolishly eager you were to be liked back then.

"Shouto." The name still felt somewhat strange on your lips, even after he had insisted you started calling him that. "It's good to meet you, too."

He was by your side in an instant, taking your bags from you swiftly and shutting the door to your ride. From this up close, it became considerably harder to disguise your staring. 

Even the scar which covered his left eye, a splash of reddish textured skin, somehow came across like yet another enhancer of his appeal. An underlying harshness which you couldn't help but be intrigued by. 

"Your hair looks even better in person."

And leave it to you to once again find a way to screw first impressions. You were chastising yourself a mere second after the words left your mouth. 

But Shouto only sent you that same hint of a smirk your way, his eyes appearing genuinely pleased at your praise. If he thought you were a weirdo and was regretting ever inviting you to his house, then he was a good enough actor for you to be fooled.

And fooled you he did, but with completely different intentions. 

"You look just like in your pictures," came his serene retort not long after.

Which you assumed was a joke, keeping in mind that the only photo you had ever sent his way had been of the Purge letter you received a few days ago.

Laughing lightly, you tried to ignore the nerves tugging at your chest before catching up with him on the steps of the building. 

As you giddily barged straight into the open jaws of the beast, it once again struck Shouto how utterly unsuspecting you were. How you trusted him so wholeheartedly.

He couldn't wait to see it all come crashing down.

。。。。。

   Inside his honest to god penthouse, your previous feeling of insufficiency only became more severe. 

The interiors were decorated sparingly, albeit fashionably. Filled with different muted shades and being unexpectedly traditional in the way they were designed. It was a stunning abode, even if you couldn't help but mentally point out how utterly unlived in it appeared.

There was not a single cup, shoe, or book out of place, everything perfectly polished and organized to the point that you felt hesitance as your sock-covered feet continued making their way through the place.

"Make yourself at home," Shouto told you most matter-of-factly. If you weren't so sure of his intentions by now, perhaps you would've thought he was being sarcastic. 

Without any of your belongings to distract yourself with, you instead gravitated towards what you could see of the kitchen through one of the sliding doors. 

It was very modern despite the rest of the aesthetic the penthouse sported, shiny stainless steel and spotless dark countertops. It should've looked out of place when paired with the carpeted floors, wooden furniture, and sparse pieces of classical Japanese art…

Yet somehow, it strangely fits. Just like his owner, you supposed, thinking back to the oddities that amounted to his unique brand of appeal.

And you really needed to stop thinking of your friend like that. 

When you heard the door to the apartment being audibly locked with a resounding click, you instantly stopped your fingers grazing the smooth countertops. Your instincts flared up with worry for a moment, right before you forcefully willed yourself to calm down.  

After reminding yourself of the true reason why you were there, the exhale you released next was one of clear relief. 

"Want something to drink?" Shouto appeared in your line of sight again, hands buried in the pockets of his pants and looking like the picture of composure. 

You felt embarrassed once again, knowing he had given you a free pass to roam but still somewhat self-conscious about intruding on his space. 

"You don't need to make me anything. I'm fine." Your timbre was apologetic, not used to slipping into the role of a guest just yet. 

He seemed strangely dissatisfied with your answer, closing some of the distance between you with a presence that had you almost flinching back for a second. 

There was an intensity in his gaze, something which you could not quite yet place. 

"But I want to be a good host. So let me." He appeared very serious about it, too, with his face growing stern as his peculiar eyes bore into yours. 

Not wanting to cause further distress, you imagined relenting would be the best course of action. 

It was like you were molded to be the perfect Darling, so wonderfully meek and gullible.

"Okay then. Water is fine."

Yet Shouto shook his head, still somewhat dissatisfied with your answer. 

"Tea it is." His phrasing allowed little space for argument. "I know you mentioned liking a few brands before, so I took the liberty of stocking up on them."

A surprising burst of laughter broke through your anxious feelings then, drawing Shouto's eyes again from the particular cabinet they had drifted to as he mentioned the beverages. 

He looked at you puzzled, an unasked question written all over his otherwise blank expression, and so you decided to reply from the surge of unexpected amusement you were experiencing. 

"It's only a night, Shou," you didn't even realize you had slipped back into his nickname, too entertained by how much he had apparently overdone his hospitality. "There really wasn't any need for you to go buy my favorite teas."

His eyes blinked quite slowly your way, his expression back to his vacant mask before a smile reappeared.

"I wanted you to feel welcomed," he supplied as he approached the cabinet he was eyeing before, dedicating himself to searching for whatever kind of flavor of tea he had in mind. 

In response, you just shrugged your shoulders with another chuckle. 

"And I didn't get you anything. You're making me feel even more out of place."

"Nonsense," he cut you off in that deadpan way of his, hands rummaging through the most ridiculously vast tea collection you had ever seen. And then he added, decidedly quieter, "today is supposed to be about you, after all."

Too bad you didn't pick up on it. 

When he ushered you back to the salon with barely a wave next, pointing at one of the cushions arranged around the short-legged table, you decided to follow his suggestion and wait there while he finished brewing the drinks. By now, you understood the futility of offering any kind of help when he was still so intent on properly welcoming you. 

So, curious as you were, your eyes continued to inspect each and every inch of the apartment, drinking up all the pieces of info you could observe, that you didn't even think of the potential dangers of letting a stranger fix you a cup while you weren't looking.

Unbeknownst to the other, you were both actively counting down the seconds until the Purge started, minds lost to your own inner turmoils from opposite sides of the suite. 

And for entirely different reasons, you were both filled with anticipation.    

。。。。。

   Meanwhile, finally back in the present after retracing the steps that guided you there, it was becoming increasingly hard to compartmentalize the chaos brewing inside you.

Shouto’s lips were the personification of hunger against yours, an inescapable gluttony to mark and consume every single inch of you he could encompass. 

After a hint of understanding returned to your body post-orgasm, your vision and the sensations you endured were becoming disturbingly vivid. It was impossible to conceive anything beyond his hands ridding you of your flimsy camisole, palms cold in comparison to the heat you felt, splaying against your sides and slowly making their way up the sensitive mounds of your chest.

“All mine, baby.” You barely registered his teeth nipping at your bottom lip until a shock of pain snapped you out of your trance.

He bit you, and quite harshly too, but when you tried to instinctually pull back his response was to hold you even tighter. Before you could attempt to voice your complaints, his tongue was darting out to clean up the droplets of blood he spilled. 

“Out of all the Darlings I’ve played with, you’re the only one I’ve ever even considered keeping, you know?”

And now that had you freezing, even amidst the cloud of desire still muddling your cognizance. His arms pressed you closer still, forcing you to bury your face against his chest, completely unphased by the bloody mess your mouth had morphed into.  

Had he tricked others before then? Was that the reason why he was even on the Forums in the first place? 

You wanted to ask him what he meant, wanted to demand explanations for a phrase that had dread closing around your neck like a noose. But whatever he slipped into your drink to keep you so awfully responsive and pliable, also appeared to make forming any complex sentences incredibly hard…

Shou, ever the receptive one, caught onto your change in demeanor rather aptly. His face nuzzled your hair softly, humming a calming melody as if you were a scared child who could be so easily reassured. Meanwhile, his hands hadn’t abandoned your breasts, still tenderly kneading them with a touch bordering on worship.

“But I’m glad you weren’t my first, baby. Means I could be all ready for when we met.” He rocked you both as he rested his back further on the sofa, opening his legs wider below you and forcing you to settle closer to his clothed groin with a whimper. 

Your arms reached out to grasp his shoulders while you tried to stabilize yourself, the strain of his erection resting snuggly against your still sensitive slit. 

"Helped me to know when to pull back," he kept confessing, purposefully thrusting into you while he kept lovingly massaging your chest, fingers twisting your hardened peaks to coax a new kind of mewl to be uttered against his skin. "Wouldn't want you to break now that I've finally found you."

The fact that your bodies seemed to fit so perfectly, even in your impaired state, was not an irony lost on you. 

Abruptly, Shouto stopped fondling your breasts in order to maneuver your face again, both of your stares meeting in a vehement standoff before he continued. 

“I’ll make this as close to perfection as I can, I promise you.” And you got a direct view of the vulnerability in his uniquely colored eyes, the nature of his words clearly heartfelt despite the atrocities they alluded to. 

As you heard him drag his zipper down, the hand clutching your jaw trembling in anticipation, you couldn’t help the new wave of warmth spreading through your body, negating all the fear and anxiousness warring inside you in order to shamefully expose your baser desires.

Now that whatever had been clouding your  judgment was pulling back slightly, your thought process had begun to snap back into place, overflowing you with a terrible sense of shame at your own reactions.

He gave you something earlier with your drink, you were sure of it, and yet you couldn’t help but still be horrified at just how much you were enjoying it. Once you felt the flushed head of his cock placidly rubbing against your thigh, the sounds leaving your mouth weren’t ones of complaint, peril or dissent.

Quite the contrary, actually, and it only made Shouto grow bolder.

As the hand clutching your face grew tenser, gripping you with force before tugging harshly, you got the hint. Now painfully following his lead, it wasn't long before the previous pressure against your legs was now resting directly against your cunt. 

The pre-cum already gathered on him mixed in with your still oozing arousal, smearing the span of your outer lips as he lightly teased you one last time. 

You were so mortified by that point, that if he had offered to end your embarrassment right then and there with one of the several weapons you knew he kept, you would’ve been very inclined to accept. 

“... I didn’t even think there was such a thing as 'The One' before, actually.” You hadn’t even realized the man was still talking, ardent whispers getting lost on the intensity of the situation. 

His eyes were searching your face, a satisfied twinkle lighting them up as soon as you returned his stare of your very own volition. Perturbed, you wondered if his delusion made him see anything beyond a twisted mix of lust and fear reflected back at him. 

“But I now know just how wrong I was, Y/N.” So sure of himself, tone back to the stern cadence you previously associated with him for a moment, gripped by a gravity befitting of his obsession. “Indeed, I think you were always meant to be my darling… don't you agree?”

To your credit, you did struggle to speak up, to gain back the control over a body which had stopped listening long ago. Too bad you only managed a single pitiful word out.

“Shouto…”

But before you could even fathom attempting a better response, he was breaching into you, sheathing himself with an ease you wished you could overlook, turning your voice from an anguished plea into outrageously labored moans. 

You had once thought Shou had been interested in you because he somehow perceived you as anything but pathetic, but you were beginning to think it had been your weakness which drew him in all along. 

So deliciously frail, that even a predator like him had been driven with an urgent need to protect you. To break you down, just so he could be the one to build you back together.

As he started fucking you with shallow thrusts, hips bucking up from the sofa while he tenderly guided you until your body was mimicked his motion on its own, you couldn’t help but be the most disturbed at his oddly affectionate ways. 

As awful as it sounded, now that your mind had awakened from its stupor all you wanted was for him to bend you over and abuse you, manhandle you and mistreat you in a way which unequivocally screamed assault. You wanted bruises painting your skin, proof that you hadn’t just willingly given up and facilitated your own ruin. 

He was humiliating you despite the pretty words he decided to disguise it as—showing you how easily he could own you and even make you enjoy it, drug-addled drink or not. 

But as his mouth latched around one of your hardened nipples, sucking generously until his name was once again fast on your tongue, you also couldn’t deny the crystal clear responses you were giving.

You could attempt to lie to yourself later, could swear it was all a delusion born out of the deranged man's mind, but the particular brand of your screams was unmistakable.

When your own hand reached down to facilitate your release, you knew you were already acting beyond what you could've previously attributed to the drugs. Toying with your bundle of nerves, you rested your forehead against Shouto's shoulders, tears from the pleasure mixing in with the subjacent agony of your guilt. 

Why did it have to feel so good? And how far did the drugs truly affect you? Or had they just peeled back your inhibitions perhaps, baring you until all you had were dark desires and no self-control to contain them. 

You still tasted blood inside your mouth when your walls started clenching around his cock, the coppery flavor entirely too vivid on your tongue. Hearing his own choked groans gasping against your chest, you felt his mouth abandoning your bud with a pop before his kisses were trailing a path back up—eager in their search of your face, your lips. 

You were still cumming by the time a lascivious kiss connected you two again, unwinding in his grasp until his hands were the only thing keeping you whole. 

“Even if I wasn't taught how,” he began promising while his rhythm grew frantic, barely resisting the allure of your core fluttering around him. “I promise I’ll love you, Y/N. Love you so good, you won’t ever want to leave when the next Purge comes.” He was getting increasingly excited by his own words, imagining a future where you did not need the aid of a little cup of tea to eagerly kiss back. “I’ll fuck you every day, fill you up and show you just how much I care. How much you matter.”

Faced with his degenerate promises, all you could do was gasp out his name one last time, perhaps seeking to express your reticence, perhaps oddly excited by the image he was painting. 

You indulged him in the pitiful sound of your whimpers molding around its syllables, and it wasn’t long before you were coaxing him to join you with an orgasm of his own.

He actually came inside, you recognized inwardly after the aftershocks of enjoyment now quieted down to a lull, a new type of dread quickly following the realization. His cum was still shooting in hot ropes, stuffing you to the brim with the intent and purpose of a man bent on marking you, owning you.

But Shouto was so loving as he kissed you time and time again, painfully reminding you of just how nice he could be for you, how gentle and attentive. It made the lines between your tormentor and a traditional lover blur even further, the confusion clouding your sense not merely born out of narcotics any longer. 

You had been so preoccupied with a monster outside your house once. A creature ripped from the kind of movies that were ripe with cheap scares and considerably cheaper thrills. 

But monsters never were like that in real life, were they? As the man continued to cradle you in his arms like the most vulnerable of creatures, you were suddenly struck by how glaringly obvious things should’ve been from the beginning. 

Because your Yandere’s obsession had not come with claws and a row of sharp teeth. No, it came instead with a suit of deception to hug its frame, the bait of acceptance, and the promise of a reliable ear to comfortably listen. It arrived with whispers that assured you that you were not alone, that it was not you who was flawed, but the world for not welcoming you. 

It dangled everything your little heart desired, so by the time you were reaching out, you were simply too distracted to notice the dangers of the abyss you were throwing yourself at.

Luckily for you, Shouto had made such a void his home. And for however long it took you to consider the darkness as your own, his was a kind of hospitality that no amount of your struggles could ever hope to wear down. 

And if the worst came to pass, if you kept stubbornly refusing and fighting despite your odds? Well…

   He could always brew you another cup of tea.

-------

Well, I can finally rest now 💀

This monster of a one-shot took me a lot longer than expected, so I ended up being a lil later to the collab that I would’ve liked. Either way, I’d really appreciate hearing any feedback or opinions on either the fic or art (or both?)... I swear that’s what keeps me motivated ;___; 

So fr, thanks to everyone who takes the time to let me know your takes! y’all are the bests of the best 🖤 And speaking of bests of best, special thanks and gratitude to the actual angels who helped and gave me feedback for both the art and/or fic @reinawritesbnha , @drxwsyni​, @wootato, @snappysnapo and @coyambition. Don’t catch me seeing y’all drop your crowns bc it’s on sight  😠 👑