#I hate when these girls especially ones who are conveniently attractive talk about stuff like this under the guise of speaking for all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angry-geese · 3 years

Note

Hi there <3 I've read some of your works and i'm in love with your writing. May I please request a fluff gojo x fem!reader? Like they finished their work in the evening and spend the rest of the night together at home💕 It could be a oneshot or a hc, whichever you feel to write. Thank you so much ^^ I'm sorry just in case my request is somehow not really clear☺️

Of course! here you go <3

Mochi

Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: none! entirely fluff! this will quite literally rot your teeth. afab reader

a/n: this ended up being a little longer than I intended lol whoops

Word Count: 2.5k

Satoru Gojo is a busy man.

The strongest can't really take a break. He’s on call 24/7. People are pulling him in all directions simultaneously. With everything that's been going on, between the mess with Sukuna, and everything happening at the school, he’s been short on time.

He needs a break.

He's more tired than he lets on. He’s good at hiding it. Especially around his students. It's hard to pull him away from his work. He's insistent that he’s fine. When you’re around someone for so long, you learn to pick up when they aren't. He can pretend to be fine all he wants. You know otherwise.

Sometimes what the strongest needs is someone to boss him around.

He’s capable of taking care of himself. He’s proven that already. But worrying is in your nature. You care about him, of course you’re going to worry.

You were a first year when you met him, having just transfered schools after an incident involving a curse. In a matter of weeks your life had seemingly been flipped on its head. The switch took some time to get used to. Switching schools your first year, let alone switching to this one in particular, was never going to be easy. Getting used to the way Jujutsu society worked took a while. He was a year above you, and you remember absolutely hating him. Gojo was insufferable- or you found him to be such. But he was friends with Nanami, who was a friend of yours, so you reluctantly hung out with him. Nanami, being in the same year as you, was the first to help you out, extending a hand and helping you get used to the way things worked.

Spending time with him didn't do much to change your views. The two of you couldn't have been more different. You still are. But something about opposites attracts.

The first time you gave him the benefit of the doubt was the first time he saved your life.

It may be a bit of an over exaggeration. You’re certain you would have survived without his help, but that could also be an attempt to preserve your pride. You went after a curse, not expecting it to be as strong as it was. As far as you knew, it shouldn't have been stronger than a grade three. Being a grade two at the time, this should have been well in your ability. There ended up being more than one curse, and they were stronger than anyone had realized. You were in over your head.

It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. It's not like you could pick and choose which curses you fought. As a student, that was decided for you.

You had resigned to your fate, separated from the others, injured. Nothing fatal. It left a cool scar, though. But you were well out of your league, put on an assignment far harder than you could deal with. You hate to admit defeat, but you had no other option.

Out of what seemed like thin air came Gojo, taking out both curses like it was nothing. Despite not liking him all that much, it was hard to not be impressed. He was strong. Stronger than you could ever hope to be.

You made it home in one piece.

It was three days before you’d finally confront him.

Getting him alone was hard enough. Being an underclassman, you didn't interact with him a whole lot. You didn't have any classes together. The few times you ran into him were when you hung out with Nanami, who was gone at the time.

When the opportunity presented itself, you took it, cornering him behind the school.

Even back then it was impossible to sneak up on him. He could sense you coming.

“Jesus-” he said, referring to you by your last name, “you look like you want to kill me.”

“You helped me out.” You said. “Why?”

He only shrugged. Not wanting to take that for an answer, you followed him. You were insistent you paid him back. You’d never let a debt like that go unpaid. The first debts are always the hardest to pay back. And when a first debt involves saving your life, well, you’ve got a lifetime to pay back. You only left once Gojo showed up. He needed to talk to Gojo about something, and although you were curious, you didn't feel like sticking around.

Gojo spent the next couple days scheming. You were determined enough you would do just about anything. He could have easily abused his power. It would have been even easier to force you to drop it, but something told him you weren't about to take no for an answer.

You wouldn't.

3pm in the bathrooms. It was hardly a week later. Your last class had ended for the day. You had snuck cigarettes in, blowing the smoke out of the crack in the window. You don't smoke anymore, but you went through nearly a pack a day in high school. There wasn't a specific brand you liked—you didn't necessarily like smoking, but you did it when you were stressed—you just used whatever you got ahold of.

You didn't hear the door open. Gojo wasn't the sneaky type, but he could be when he wanted. You weren't too hard to sneak up on.

If you didn't have contraband that likely would have gotten you expelled, you would have screamed when you saw him. He scared you, not to mention he snuck into the girl’s bathrooms. The two of you would be in equally deep shit if you reported the other. So at that moment you came to a silent agreement.

“You still want to pay me back?” He asked. “Cause I have an idea.”

You perked up at his words.

“Get me mochi from that shop just down the road. You know the one that just opened up?” He asked. “Bring me some and I’ll call us even.”

“That's it?” You asked. It was almost anticlimactic. But despite everything, he was insistent.

Gojo hasn't changed a whole lot since then.

He still has his sweet tooth. He still makes you get him mochi from that shop. It feels like you’re the ones keeping it in business nowadays.

You’re not quite sure who made the first move.

Soon you began spending more time together away from Nanami and Geto. You got along better than anyone—mostly you—ever expected. You weren't the most outwardly affectionate. While you were far from shy, pda wasn't really your thing. Gojo is the opposite. Even now, years after you began dating, he’s still clingy. You’ve gotten used to it. Gojo is possessive, he wants everyone to know you’re his. Not that they don't know already. He can't shut up about you.

Getting him alone has always been hard. Not much has changed in the past few years. He’s only gotten busier. Try to drag him away from work all you want, you rarely succeed.

Tonight he's come willingly. He finished his work early, and all you had left was stuff you could finish in the morning.

Nights at home like this—together—are rare. It feels like you hardly see him anymore. You often fall asleep alone, only to wake up to the other side of the bed being cold. He’s been so occupied with this business with Yuji, that he’s hardly had time for anything else. You sneak away during your breaks, like you’re teenagers again, stealing kisses between classes. You almost don't know what to do.

It almost feels like you should do something to celebrate.

The lights are off when you get home. Your apartment looks empty. Megumi must still be out with his friends.

“What should we do for dinner?” Gojo asks.

“Takeout?” You say. "I don't feel like cooking."

Gojo’s a decent cook, but he doesn't feel like doing so either. He’d get takeout every night if you’d let him. But that's not good for him (or Megumi) so you force him to do otherwise. Because you’re normally home, and you like baking, you’re usually the one to make dinner. There's not much in the fridge. You'll have to get groceries eventually. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. It shouldn't take long.

“How does Korean barbeque sound?" He asks. "From that place down the street?”

"Sounds good,"

You find a menu buried in one of your kitchen drawers, stashed with other takeout menus. You pick out something—two meals, plus some sweet buns for dessert—he calls the restaurant. You pay the extra cash to have it delivered. Neither of you feel like going and picking it up. It's more convenient than the alternative.

The tv drones on in the background while you wait. There’s not much on tv at this hour. News, some late night soaps. While you do like your occasional soap opera, none that you normally watch are on. Gojo changes it to the news. The weather. It looks like it'll rain tomorrow morning, but the rest of the day is supposed to be warm.

"We should go to the park tomorrow," you say, "having a picnic sounds nice."

Gojo hums in approval. As long as you make those tea cakes—the ones with honey drizzled on top—he'll agree to tag along. Maybe you'll go check out the bookstore too. It's been a while since you've last gone.

You strip out of your uniform, pulling on some more comfortable clothes; a pair of shorts and one of Gojo's shirts. It smells like him. You can't help but bury your nose in the collar.

When there’s a knock at the door, Gojo is the one to answer. He returns with your food. You gather napkins and utensils. Gojo never saw the point in anything other than stainless steel chopsticks. Or wooden ones—those given to you with takeout—if he wasn't feeling up to doing dishes. You, on the other hand, bought all sorts of colorful ones and stands that may or may not have been lifted from various restaurants. That's one habit from your teenage years you never lost. You'd pocket almost anything that wasn't nailed down. Your apartment has a rather impressive assortment of salt and pepper shakers. Not to mention the box of hotel soaps you never use, but took because you "might" need it. He enables you, taking some whenever he stays out of town, bringing them home for you. Gojo can hardly say no to you.

Gojo settles next to you on the couch, his shoulder pressed to yours. He can't keep his hands off of you. He’s possessive by nature. Everyone has to know you’re his. He always has to be touching you. Not necessarily with his hands, but he presses his thigh against yours while sitting next to you, or his body pressed against yours from behind in public.

The two of you eat in relative silence. Gojo’s attention turns to the tv, but that doesn't stop him from practically laying on top of you. Occasionally he’ll sneak bites of your food, and you of his.

When you’re done, you clear away the empty containers, sitting any leftovers in the fridge. Gojo sprawls out on the couch. He easily takes up any bit of space. The couch can hardly fit all 6-foot-something of Gojo. It hardly fits you. You've been meaning to look for another one, but haven't found the time to.

He opens his arms, and instinctively you go into them. You move so you can rest partially against the arm of the couch, Gojo's head leaning against your shoulder. His arms loop around your waist, his fingers lacing over your stomach.

It doesn't take him long to begin to drift off. He falls asleep in the crook of your neck. The low sound of the tv, combined with the warmth of his body makes you want to drift off to sleep. Sleeping on the couch like this isn't very good for your (or his) back, but you don't want to move.

The next time your eyes open, some late night game show plays, disturbing your sleep with loud music. The clock on the wall reads some time past two. It's hard to read the minute hand. You gently shake Gojo awake. One of his eyes cracks open and he lets out a soft “hm?”

“Come to bed,” you say, your arms wrapping around his neck, “it's late.”

His eyes close, and for a moment you think he’s drifted back off to sleep, when his grip around you tightens, and he’s rolling over on top of you.

“I think I’ll stay here with you, mochi,” he says, planting a wet kiss to your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck makes you shiver.

And though he doesn't move, there's a look in his eyes that tells you he has something planned. You only notice too late that his grip never loosens, and the mischievous glint to his eyes. You couldn't wiggle out of it if you wanted to. You're effectively trapped.

He litters your neck with kisses, sending you into a giggling fit, and he doesn't stop until you’re begging him to. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from laughing. Your nails dig into your palms so hard they leave little crescent-shaped indents.

When you finally settle down, he’s pulling you into his arms bridal style, heading for your shared room. The bed is still unmade from this morning. Neither of you bothered to put it away. You were busy, and the thought slipped your mind.

Gojo shoves the covers aside, pulling you to lay on his chest. His fingers gently trace up the curve of your spine as he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. Goosebumps prickle your exposed skin. He’s careful with how he touches you, loving, and soft. It's like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your body. His heartbeat is audible. Steady, and quet, acting as a lullaby. Your eyes shut, but you’re still awake. The intimacy of the moment doesn't go over your head.

He thinks he could die happy at this moment. Any moment, with you, really. Even during fights, or nights where he doesn't come home until long after you’ve fallen asleep, and you’re left irritated with his lack of time. As long as you’re by his side, he’s content.

He doesn't give much to the thought of settling down. His work will never let him. Neither does he think much about having any biological children. You practically have two already. Settling down isn't really an option for the strongest. This is the closest he’ll get to it.

For now, he just thinks about the park, and the blue sundress you always wear when you go.

Not many people can say they’ve changed who Satoru Gojo is as a person—let alone for the better—but you’ve changed him twice. Once in your meeting behind the school, and once again tonight. He’s found the one.

The first debt is always the hardest to pay back. But you've paid it in full.

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff

216 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

peeping tom(mina)

— Mina finds a peephole in her room that looks directly into your room and discovers a sight that slightly rocks her entire life.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: ashido mina x fem!reader

warning: 18+, smut, voyeur!mina, mutual masturbation, vibrator, dildos, finger fucking, cursing, peephole, lesbianism

word count: 2,815

a/n: sorry its a day late!!!! have some pervy roommate mina rn and some abo shiggy in about a few hours!!!!

kinktober day 11 main kink: voyeurism | kinktober masterlist

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Mina has a dirty secret.

And just thinking about it makes her shy, and she has never been a shy girl.

Since she could fully understand what sex was, she had always been someone who was incredibly sex-positive. Mina was also a full-body worshiper, someone who found everyone’s bodies hot and attractive. It never really surprised anyone when they found this out. She was always the type to point out how that person’s ass looked hot in jeans, or how that shirt made that person’s boobs look full, soft, and luscious. She held back at absolutely nothing, making sure to let everyone know her opinion on how and why she currently found them attractive.

So the ones she would eventually bring to bed were also unsurprised by the enthusiasm she held when she kissed down their bodies, fingers massaging every piece of skin and muscle as she moaned praises. To Mina, bodies were a temple, and when she was visiting, she was going to make sure you knew how fascinating she thought it to be.

Even now, at twenty-two, she never hated pointing out what she thought to be positive about people’s bodies. It was almost second nature.

“Can you please tell me why your legs look hot as fuck in those sweats?!” Mina practically screamed, dramatically fanning herself when you walked into the kitchen.

It was Saturday night, and Mina found herself in her apartment, blinds are drawn open, blankets were strewn around the living room, and hot homemade food sizzling on the stove. You were her roommate, and you’ve been her roommate for about seven months now. Both of you had met in a college class, being paired up multiple times for a few projects in the year had created an unlikely friendship that resulted in a roommate contract because you were moving to Tokyo after graduation, and hey! So was Mina!

You snorted by the stove, flipping the sweet crepes you had been making for the both of you in the pan. Turning your head to look at Mina, you playfully winked at her, posing your body in faux-seductive ways while you dipped your head back.

“What can I say, the sweats of a heartbroken ex always look hotter on a champions fat ass.”

Mina laughed loudly, her hands bringing her sweet rosé to her lips, taking a long, deep drink of the alcoholic beverage. “I can’t believe you keep your exes clothes! I burn all of mine,” Mina states as if the two of you hadn’t already had this conversation a thousand times.

“I don’t think you can talk!” you scoff, spatula in hand, flipping the light sweet into a roll. “You’re the one who goes and buys actual metals for every successive man you fuck! And you have sooo many metals!”

Also, something that had been repeated a million times, and yet never failed to get either one of you two in some laughing flush.

“I do have so many metals,” Mina sighs, the grin on her face bright and proud while you walk over, crepes in hand. Thanking you for the food, Mina waited for you to settle down next to her before resuming the movie the two of you had decided to watch. “I promise, y/n, if you just look a guy in the eye and tell him you like his shoulders and his thighs, you’ll get him in bed in a blink of an eye.”

You hum, taking a chug of the rosé straight from the bottle, releasing it with a small pop that made Mina’s eyes rest on your swollen, wet lips.

“Yeah, no. You see, I’m not really interested in that sort of stuff,” you admit, taking a bite from the crepe as the movie slowly becomes background noise.

“You haven’t dated anyone since high school,” Mina more than points out, tugging at the indeed high school logoed sweatpants. “That was like, four years ago, and you don’t sleep around?! What is it? You waiting for the Prince of some unknown country to come and wed you without you realizing he’s a prince? I mean, you can totally do that, especially with that hot bod of yours, but I know all the princes our age, none of them are even remotely hot!”

Mina watched as your eyes dropped to your food, the smile on your face small, maybe a bit... sad?

“It’s not that,” you shrugged, your eyes moving to lock on Mina. “Mina, I’m gay.”

What?

Processing Data…

Data Processed. Please Continue.

“WHAT?!”

A shit-eating grin spread on your face, and you nodded, taking another gulp of the rosé and shoving more crepe in your mouth.

“YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU ALLOWED ME TO HAVE HETEROSEXUAL SEX WITH YOU IN THE APARTMENT AND DIDN’T TELL ME?!” Mina shrieked, suddenly mortified with her actions as her fingers clenched her curly pink hair. “WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE MEN I TRIED HOOKING YOU UP WITH?! I mean, I know you didn’t fuck any of them, which ended up all fine because I would have cried if Kiri, Denki, or Sero stopped showing up.”

“Mina!” you laughed.

“I can’t believe you allowed me to force men on you; I’m so sorry, sweetie!”

Mina froze when your warm fingers suddenly grabbed onto hers, pulling her cold palms near your chest as your slightly glazed with alcohol eyes took her in.

“Listen, Mina, I’ll say this once, and I’ll repeat this. I didn’t tell you because I don’t care to share my sexuality. Not only that but all those men you introduced me to almost made me wish I was straight! Almost, but they’re a bit too…” Mina watched you trail off, your hammering heart a gentle smooth on her fingers.

“Stupid?” Mina tried, and you laughed as you nodded.

“Yeah, stupid.”

Mina gulped, her head nodding while you finally let go of her hands and sighed.

“Don’t be weird about it, Pinky,” you muse, shoving your shoulder against her. “I won’t hit on ya.”

Mina scoffed, clearly offended, “I think you should, though, my body is hot, and my kisses are just as good.”

It was said in jest, and Mina’s heart fluttered at the way you laughed with her in good spirits. That was normal, right?

Eventually, the contents of the rosé disappeared between the two of you, the movie long done, and the crepes sitting warm and sweet in your stomachs. Mina smiled brightly as she waved at you a simple goodnight as she needed to reorganize her snacks cabinet. Hearing the small click of your room door, Mina slumped against the counter, a weird feeling in her brain at the sudden revelation from you.

It didn’t make you any different in her eyes, she wasn’t a bigot, but there was something different.

Something new.

The cabinet wasn’t fixed up at all, Mina’s attention span forbidding her from reorganizing the cabinet until she turned off the lights and dragged her feet back into her room, conveniently located directly next to yours.

The apartment layout was weird.

Instead of a typical hallway separating the two rooms, it was a single, thin wall.

Now, Mina would categorize herself as many things, but dramatic was never one of them. But the way she had slammed her door in an attempt to clear the muggy storm of her thoughts might have been dramatic of her. Maybe a bit too dramatic.

A loud tear came from the right side of her room, and Mina gasped loudly as the shelf showcasing her plethora of medals for all her sexual conquests tore the wall as it fell off. Stupid heavy bitch! Racing over to the wall, Mina frantically grabbed at the tearing cheap wallpaper, her eyes wide with worry as she tried to fix the shelf to no avail.

“M-Mina, are you okay?” a gasped breath came from the direct another side of the wall.

“It’s all good!” Mina laughed loudly, her heart pounding because she was going to confess what was going on the second you asked again, as you usually do. But the only thing that followed was the roaring of her blood and heart as she stared at the wall.

Weird.

Mina didn’t dwell on it for too long, her hands throwing the medals off the shelf and onto the bed as she picked at the wall. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She grazed the center of the wall and watched in horror as the wall crumbled at the touch, and she bit her tongue to keep from hysterically sobbing as a hole opened up from your room to hers. All things considered, it wasn’t a big hole, no bigger than the diameter of her pinky, but it was still a hole in the wall.

Despite the crack in the wall, Mina swore or prayed that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Pressing to the hole, she peered in and froze immediately.

There weren’t many things in the world that made Mina freeze, but this was one of them. Her eye pressed to the wall saw that you were on the bed. Your sweats dropped around your ankles, shirt bunched above your breasts so that your fingers twisted and pulled at your nipples. The other hand held a vibrator to your clit.

Your face was scrunched up, the low hum of the vibrator suddenly piercing through the small crack in the wall, alerting Mina of a straight fire that erupted between her thighs as she watched you fuck yourself. The arch of your back when you come off the mattress makes her thighs rub together, and how your lips part in what she knows to be the most delicious moan, she’s ever managed to hear.

Mina isn’t sure when you stop masturbating that night, or even more importantly: when her panties became as fucking wet as they are.

She manages to put the shelf back onto the wall, her face absolutely red as she turns off the lights, ashamed to even go to the bathroom despite the discomfort of the slick between her folds. She dreams of having your mouth between her legs that night.

It doesn’t stop there, Mina’s ashamed to admit.

As a matter of fact, she’s probably obsessed.

She definitely didn’t keep her ear to the wall, desperately waiting to hear the low hum of the vibrator through the wall. She definitely didn’t pull the still broken shelf from the wall to peer through that crack to watch as you fucked yourself. She definitely does not, and she means, does not rub her fingers against her clit as she watches you.

But what was she currently doing when she heard the all too familiar consistent humming of one of your plenty of vibrators? She was stumbling off her bed, throwing the shelf off the wall, and using the crack in the wall to stare into your room. Except as she now unashamedly moved her fingers into her swats, fingertips grazing her already humming clit, she froze at the new sight she saw.

Typically, when you masturbated, you would lay along your bed. Your body laid out flat from the side for Mina to see. She never actually saw the slick of your cunt, or the way your pretty cunt would look like as you fucked yourself against a dildo. But today? Oh god, today was different.

You were propped up against the wall, your legs pressed open for Mina to see in all your glory. Your slicked, pretty pussy revealed for her eyes, and your head leaning against the wall as she watched.

Mina moaned as her fingers began to rub her clit, the already fluttering, simmering sensation radiating from her bundle of nerves too tight, too demanding to ignore. She circled her clit as your fingers dipped into your core, and she bit her lower lip at the refined look of elation that wiped over your face.

Your fingers moved in and out of your cunt, and Mina was hooked on the very exact angle your fingers were going in. Her mind wandering as she imagined that it was her in there with you. That it was her holding her fingers to your cunt, and not just fantasizes that drove her insane. Mina gasped as suddenly the dormant warmth in her legs sparked into a growing fire that made her legs shake and had her resting her forehead upon the wall.

Her eyes struggled to open when your feet kicked up off the mattress, toes curled to the balls of your feet as you keened loudly. A whimper left her lips at the way you moaned, the soft, beautiful sounds making Mina sink an impatient hand in her core.

She fucked herself, her eyes fluttering, lips gasping for air as she pressing her warm fingers against her even warmer walls. Mina gasped your name, her eyes trying to focus on that wall, and was absolutely frozen at the sight she saw next.

You were holding a double ended dildo to your cunt, fucking your sopping wet cunt that Mina swore she could hear from her room. The vibrator was still on your clit, and Mina snapped her hips further, stronger into her scissoring fingers. It felt like you were teasing her with the toy as if you knew she was watching in and were teasing and testing her limits. Mina could feel herself shoving that dildo as far up her cunt as she could get it, her hands holding on to your beautiful thighs and bringing you in so that your slick cunts could grind against each other, fuck each other properly. If her brain wasn’t so muddled, she wouldn’t be thinking you were looking at her right now through the peephole, and she wouldn’t be thinking about the million different ways she’d fuck you given the opportunity. She wondered if you had a strap. Would you wear it if her fantasies were to ever come true? Would she?

Mina couldn’t dwell on the secrets she wished to know because suddenly, you let out one of the loudest, most lewd moans Mina had ever heard emitted from your swollen lips. The slick of her heat and the wet of her essence easily letting her fingers glide about her clenching walls with practiced, well-known ease. You gasped, your eyes fluttering to the back of your head as your hand holding the dildo became more frantic, sloppier, before stopping altogether, and although you had reached an orgasm — Mina swore she saw god.

Your orgasmic euphoric face was unlike anything Mina had ever seen.

The flustered, quiet pleasure reeking from every small line in your face, the way your mouth dropped just enough so that your pink tongue was on full display, the way you fought between biting down on your lip or letting yourself moan in your high. But it was the way your eyes crossed that sent Mina’s forehead slamming against her fist on the wall, muting the way Mina felt her walls clench wildly and tightly around her curled, lithe fingers.

She breathed in her descent, her cheeks burning with the same and bliss she always felt after orgasming. It wasn’t fair she came so soon watching you fuck yourself, especially as she knew she typically took so long in bed with men to make cum.

“Do you want to try it out?” your voice slipped into the room, and Mina froze, her blood suddenly turning ice cold. Her eyes snapped back to the dirty peephole to see that you were, in fact, staring into the hole, hand sliding the dildo into your cunt still, still willing and ready to go more round. “It gets a little lonely putting on a show for you night after night, Mina, and for you to never come and collect your prize.”

Mina swallowed, her eyes blinking owlishly at the way you shifted forward, turning so that your ass was in the air, knees, and chest on the mattress.

You knew.

“Come and collect your prize, please.”

“Y-Yes!”

Mina learned two things that night.

One: she especially and equally enjoyed having listless amounts of body worship mantra on her skin. The feeling of wet lips and hot breathes with things she was so used to giving made her cum around your pretty little fingers much more than she’d ever thought possible.

Two: you had known after the first night that she had caught you masturbating. Apparently, Mina was much louder than she thought herself to be, and when whining your name — she doesn’t remember even speaking — you had known and did all you could to finally getting your impulsive roommate to fuck you.

Oh, and I guess there is one more thing too!

Three: Mina had the absolute hots for you and was going to take you out for a proper date, tomorrow.

#mina x reader #mina smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

1K notes · View notes

unholyobsessions · 3 years

Text

K9 Approval

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Description: Spencer starts crushing on the cute dog handler

Requested: Yes

A/N: Not really falling in love, more of a meet cute but I am considering writing a short blurb as pt2 who knows

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, typical criminal minds stuff

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

It’s a pretty standard case. Spencer wishes he didn’t have to classify a number of women getting kidnapped and murdered as ‘standard’ but there is nothing particularly strange about it. The good thing (well not exactly good, more like convenient) is that it’s a local case and he is able to go home to his apartment every night.

When he arrives to the BAU on their third day on the case he knows as soon as he looks at Hotch that this case just became anything but standard.

“He sent a note,” his boss speaks and all color drains from his face. A note can either be extremely helpful, or extremely dangerous. He rushes to follow Hotch into the round table room where the rest of the team is crowded over a lined sheet of paper.

I’ve always enjoyed a nice walk in the park. Especially those with lots of trees. Makes it easy to hide from the monsters crawling in the dark. It’s also easy for the monsters to hide their secrets. Can you find my secret? I’ll give you a hint. She’s no longer breathing.

Spencer’s brain immediately tries to find any codes that could be hidden within the words but comes up with nothing. He picks up the plastic bag the paper is in and starts to read the note again.

“Reid what can you tell us?” Hotch asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“There is a lot of abbreviation. I’ve instead of I have. Lots instead of a lot. It’s casual, almost nonchalant. The pen is pressed lightly against the paper, which shows that he was calm as he wrote it. He’s confident, not worried about getting caught.” Spencer explains his findings without looking up. “Garcia are there any parks within the geographical comfort zone?”

Garcia immediately starts typing away on her computer, not needing to look at the keyboard to click the correct keys. In a matter of seconds she’s speaking the location of two parks, both conveniently placed in the center of the comfort zone.

“We need to get two teams of search dogs in each park. Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss go to the one on fifth avenue. Rossi and JJ you’re with me at the park on eighth. We need to find her.”

. . .

Arriving about twenty minutes later, the park was already crowded with search dogs and their handlers. Spencer crinkled his nose, never particularly excited to work with the dogs. He was vaguely listening to whatever Morgan was saying next to him as he let his eyes scan over the park.

There were certainly a lot of trees and it seemed like the place children would enjoy playing hide and seek in. It wasn’t huge but it was certainly bigger than the average park and the lack of street lamps surrounding the area would have certainly made it easy for the unsub to sneak around at night.

As he kept looking over the area, his eyes caught sight of you and the breath was knocked from his lungs.

You have always loved animals, dogs in particular, and you have known since you were young that you wanted to be able to work with them when you were older. However, eight-year-old you never expected to look for dead bodies for a living, well you look for living people too. And technically you don’t do this for a living, you’re a veterinarian who happens to spend her time volunteering in search and rescue missions.

The decision to start volunteering as a search dog handler came after a girl in your college went missing. Everything was okay and she was thankfully found unharmed but it was two days of your campus being crowded with search dogs. You talked to one of the officers about the job and after a few short minutes of conversation you were instantly hooked. Five years later and you cannot bring yourself to regret your choice.

You remember when you got Ash, a gorgeous German Shepard, after your first training session. He was only three months old and the perfect age to start his training. It required you to spend all of your free time playing hide and seek in your small, one bedroom apartment, which is not as fun as it sounds after a few weeks.

In the end it was all worth it since you are able to help people and it got you a new best friend.

You walk around the park with a tight hold on Ash’s leash. You got the call about fifteen minutes prior and you are thankful that it is your day off from the vet. You keep your eyes on your dog, making sure to look out for any change in his behavior that may indicate that he found something.

The small hesitation in his step was enough to make you stop walking. He started rounding one of the trees, sniffing the ground before looking up at you and giving a loud bark.

You call Hank, one of the members of the team that is carrying the shovel over. “I think we got something.”

Your voice not only attracted the search team, but also three FBI agents. A few seconds later there was a small crowd gathered around you as Ash used his paws to help Hank dig the hole. Once the body has been uncovered you lead Ash away from the crowd, your hand going into the fanny pack strapped around your waist.

“Good job,” you say as you kneel next to him. You hold out the treat and he excitedly licks it off your hand. You can’t stop the smile that comes on your face even though it’s not the most appropriate reaction considering the situation. You feel a pair of eyes on you and you look up to see one of the FBI agents staring at you. He looks embarrassed at getting caught and you wave him over. He does so cautiously, keeping his eyes on Ash.

“Hi,” he says once he gets within speaking distance. You stand up and dust your hands on the fabric of your jeans.

“Hey, you’re from the BAU right?” You already know that he’s from the BAU, your team leader having had told you so as soon as you arrived. But he’s cute and you need a way to start a conversation.

“Yes. I’m Dr. Reid. Uh I mean Spencer…you don’t have to call me doctor.” He looks away bashfully and you smile, finding the blush creeping up his neck endearing.

“Well Spencer, I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself. You notice that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Ash, who is looking up at you as if waiting for you to introduce him. “Everything okay?”

“What? Oh yeah it’s just that dogs don’t particularly enjoy my presence. They actually kinda resent it.” He says it so casually and you are sure that this isn’t the first time he’s had to say it. He looks just about ready to run away if the need arises and he does look a tad surprised to see that Ash isn’t attacking him already.

“Nonsense. Ash is a sweetheart and loves meeting new people. Come on,” you gesture for him to come closer with your hand. What you say is true, however Ash does look a little more vigilant than he usually does, as if he senses a threat in the FBI agent but won’t act upon it without your command. You don’t comment on it though, assuming this will only make Spencer more hesitant. Spencer approaches slowly, afraid that the dog will start barking at him. Once he’s standing next to you, you hear him audibly gulp. “Hold out your hand.” He does as you say, placing his hand out in front of him and toward Ash.

Ash looks at you for confirmation and at the small nod of your head he leans forward, sniffing the stranger’s hand. Spencer looks completely terrified of the situation and after a few seconds, Ash leans back. Spencer is about to retreat his hand but you stop him, knowing that everything is riding on Ash’s next move. Ash lifts his left paw off the ground and places it on top of Spencer’s hand, barking once and you let out a relived sigh. If he had refused to shake Spencer’s hand and barked twice, it would have been a done deal, because even though you are attracted to him, if Ash disproves then it can’t happen.

You smile and nudge Spencer slightly. “See, you just got the Ash stamp of approval.” The laugh that leaves his lips makes your heart flutter and you scold yourself. You just met him, get it together.

You see the grimace on his face once Ash removes his paw and leaves a good amount of dirt on his hand. You reach into the fanny pack and take out a small pack of wipes and a small bottle of hand sanitizer, always prepared. He looks grateful at the items, immediately taking a wipe and running it against his palm. Once he’s done he turns back to look at you. Ash has settled down at your feet, happily wagging his tail and sniffing Spencer’s shoes.

“Does this stamp of approval allow me to ask for your number?” He asks it so casually and it is such a contrast from the shy man a few second before that it takes you completely by surprise. It takes a second for your brain to properly process the question and now you are the one stuttering. Once it catches up, you turn to him with a grin.

“Definitely.” You grab your phone from your pocket and hand it to him and he does the same, both of you typing your contact information. You stare at each other with matching grins but are inevitably broken out of your daze by a voice calling out for Spencer.

“Reid, Hotch wants us back at the BAU. You can flirt with the pretty dog handler later.” The dark skinned agent yells across the park.

Spencer blushes furiously and turns back to you, barely stuttering out, “I have to go.”

You nod your head in understanding. “I’ll talk to you later Spencer.”

“Definitely.” You are pleasantly surprised when he leans down and pets Ash a couple times. “Bye Ash.”

You keep looking at him as he walks away, too distracted to notice the new presence beside you.

“Got a date?” Hank asks.

You shove his shoulder, trying to feign annoyance but the large smile on your face betrays you. “Shut up.” Ash barks up at you, seemingly wanting to join in on the teasing and Hank laughs, lowering his hand to high five Ash. “I hate both of you,” you reply with a frown.

Your façade breaks when your phone chimes with a new notification. You grin at the screen, the text sending butterflies to your stomach.

Want to get coffee on Saturday?

Tilting your phone away from the prying eyes of your team leader and furry friend, you type out a reply.

It’s a date

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #mgg #mgg blurb #mgg x reader #mgg drabble #mgg imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #Mathew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

277 notes · View notes

degenerate-otaku · 3 years

Note

Au where the androids in trunks time arint evil anymore so the three of them just hang out for the rest of their lives time traveling with trunks to save the day after they realised what their doing is wrong somehow cause we need happier times

Hey! I took this in a slightly different direction since I just go with the flow.

I hope you enjoy it though ♡

******************************************

It had been almost a year since the androids had come to an agreement to end their destruction. In some ways it was an anticlimactic ending to an almost 17 year battle. A part of me still wants to bring Gohan justice by destroying them, but that may just be my Saiyan side. I know that Gohan always did his best to be like his father and forgive others, so maybe he'd understand.

It's been a difficult journey, no doubt about it. To keep the androids happy, as well as the people of earth, who probably have not forgiven 17 and 18 and want nothing more to see them dead, I tend to go out with them, just to make sure there are no problems. The androids have to disguise themselves to not be recognised, which isn't too hard since they are incredibly inconspicuous (apart from 17 perhaps, who seems like the type of kid to be stealing and causing havoc anyway). Usually, it's just a case of them hiding their eyes, since that's how people can recognise them.

“Trunks, you really need to brush up on fashion.” 18 remarked as she sipped at her drink. I snapped out of my thoughts immediately, which often consume me.

“Huh? What do you mean?” I was rather offended by her comment but I kept my face and tone neutral.

“Well...you don't have many outfits...and the ones you do have are...” She looked me up and down and continued, “A little...dated to say the least.”

Before I could respond, 17, who was riding on his skateboard as he slurped at his soda interrupted, “Trunks, you look like that guy from that movie 'Back to the Future'.”

I had no clue on what he meant, since I've never seen that movie, but it seemed like no matter what I would say, they'd always have a comeback.

It had always been like that, so what was I expecting?

“Well, we are right outside a mall.” I knew what she was suggesting immediately.

'How convenient' I thought to myself.

“Sis, your shopping trips take whole days!”

I almost laughed at what 17 had said, but held back.

“Shut up! You spend all day in the arcade like a little kid! Plus, you need new clothes too!” 18 poked her brother in the chest, asserting her authority. It's so strange to see 17 shaken like that. As a kid he seemed unmoved by everything, just like his sister.

“Ugh, whatever.” He sighed, throwing the empty cup of soda in the trash.

Strolling casually within the recently rebuilt mall, which my mother helped to fund, 18 finally found a store that she thought had good items for us.

“This place looks lame!” 17 sneered at all the rather classy looking shirts and pants.

“If you're gonna be a brat, go to Hot Topic!” 18 retorted, pointing to the store she was referencing.

“Bitch, I AM the Hot Topic!” 17 loudly declared, walking off. I wasn't sure on how much money he had. The androids liked living large, and still did so, despite my mother not being so pleased about it. She told me once on how it was like she now had three teenage brats but then she realised I was right there and said that I wasn't a brat, though I know I was when I was younger.

“Now that he's out of the way...” 18 sighed, adjusting her hair, before pulling out a shirt from a rack.

“What do you think?” She asked, holding up a blue T-shirt that said something in Japanese.

“See, you gotta stop hiding those muscles! I've seen them up close and I know normal girls will faint over that, especially with your skin tone.”

My cheeks felt hot when she said that and I began to stammer, “W-well..I don't think it's for me...uh, I...don't like showing my arms.” I looked down at the glossy marble floor, and felt her gaze pierce me.

“What, because of those scars?” She scoffed and I looked up at her, not knowing how to react.

“They aren't that bad. Plus...girls like guys who have feelings and have been through stuff.” I didn't get what she meant.

“For a person who hates humans, you sure do understand them.” I don't know why I said that. She frowned and then just moved on, after putting the blue shirt in the basket, whether I liked it or not.

“So...” She tried to steer the conversation back onto clothes, “What do you like wearing anyway?”

“Well...mostly loose, comfortable stuff.” I answered.

“Yeah, like that sweater and pants you used to wear all the time when you were like...what, 13? 14?”

Why had she remembered that?

“Yeah...I have a lot of those kinda outfits.” She walked along to another aisle and I followed, not noticing that there were a few girls looking at me and giggling.

“What made you pick this one? The whole...jacket and vest combo. You wore a similar thing when we beat your ass a year or two ago...wasn't that in the ruins of this mall?”

I felt pain thinking about that. I was a fool, admittedly for going there to try fight them, but I've grown a lot since then.

“Oh...yeah, the light blue jacket and white shirt...uh, I guess I think it looks cool..especially with the sword-”

“Ughhh, what is it with men and their little toys, I've got my brother with his stupid gun, and you with that sword!” She groaned. “They're pointless!”

“Well...technically, my sword has a point-” I smirked.

“Wow, I thought you were incapable of jokes.” She replied, then pulled out a sweatshirt for me. It was a simple grey colour with a logo on it.

“Girls also like guys who dress casual...but that sorta depends. This and some nice loose jeans would look good on you, though you'd need better shoes.” I was rather astonished at how she was able to make so many combinations and knew what would look good on me, but then I realised something.

“Why do you keep trying to find outfits that would attract girls?”

She rolled her eyes at my question.

“Well, c'mon you're almost an adult and you haven't got a girlfriend! Wait...are you gay?”

I blushed hard. “What? Well, I dunno! I haven't really thought about it...”

“I'm just trying to help you find someone.” She smiled, trying to find a price tag on some shoes.

“Wait a sec, I'll ask someone about this.” She left me standing near the basket and as I fixed my hair in while I looked in the mirror, two girls came up to me.

“Hey, uh, you're cute...can I have your number?” One said and I was unsure of what to say. I didn't want to be rude, but I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to them.

“Well, uh, you see-” My brain suddenly seemed to fail me.

“He's taken.” Suddenly, 18 reappeared and out of nowhere kissed me before dragging me by the arm.

“Hey! What was that?!” The kiss was only for a split second but I was so confused.

“Wait, was I your first kiss?” She laughed.

“N-no!” I folded my arms and didn't look at her directly.

“If I didn't know better you wanted it to last longer, hm?”

“WHAT?!” I exclaimed, losing my cool.

“Hey, I'm just messing with you...I just had to get you out of there-” She picked up the basket and walked over to the queue, her hips swaying prominently

“The kiss was unnecessary!”

“You're the first man ever to reject a kiss from me.” She sounded bewildered and I gave up trying.

We exited the store with two bags of clothes and 17 had a bag of his own stuff too.

“So, mind telling me what that was?” 17 inquired and even 18 blushed a little.

"Aww, what an adorable couple!“ He mocked, laughing hard at his own jokes.

”Shut it, bonehead! That meant nothing!“ She scolded him and I don't know why I felt hurt by that.

”I was just trying to make him look good for once, but I really couldn't care less!“ She continued and I wondered if she had even meant what she said about my scars.

For the rest of the day I couldn't stop thinking about that moment. It's stupid of me, I know. I'm so fucking awkward I can't handle a girl talking to me, and when a person I hated growing up does it to me, I want it to happen again, to feel that kinda jolt down my body.

But I guess I won't.

#dbz #dragon ball z #dragon ball #trunks #future trunks #trunks briefs #android 17 #android18 #fanfiction #dbz fanfiction #thanks for the ask!#fic request #enemies to friends to lovers

20 notes · View notes

sluttyten · 4 years

Text

whiplash

summary: you and mark hate each other, but that line between hate and love is really so very thin

words: 4,394

tags: knifeplay, blood play, dry humping, penetration

When SM decides that there should be a female subunit of NCT, you’re one of the members. At first the guys hate the idea of there being female members, but it doesn’t even really matter because your subunit operates almost independently from the rest of NCT. Until one day your manager tells you that NCT U is having a comeback and they want you to be in it.

You’ve met the guys before of course, but you’ve never really practiced with them or even had like a full conversation with any of them. Until now.

The unit is made up of you, Mark, Yuta, Doyoung, Renjun, and Hendery, and one other girl from the female subunit. And instantly, you and Mark don’t get along. Maybe it’s due to a bad first impression or something, but you just grate on each other’s nerves, but it seems that Mark really can’t stand you at all.

Before you met him, before you were in the group, you knew who Mark Lee was. You’d seen videos and stuff of him and he always seemed so nice and sweet and friendly. But now you definitely see that he’s not like that at all. You can’t believe that you were lowkey biasing him before you were actually in the group. Like he’s still very visually attractive but everything else about him…

At some point you’re doing a little bit of overseas promotion for the group, so you’re all staying in a hotel. It’s fun to get to travel overseas with the group and it’s your first time doing so, therefore when you’re talking with the other girl in the group you’re both being loud and laughing, enjoying yourselves on this trip. You’re talking with Hendery and Yuta as well since they’re friendly, but Mark just glared at you, not even a part of this conversation, and he tells you to shut the fuck up. Specifically you. Not your other girl group member, not Yuta, not Hendery. You.

You do shut up, but you sit there internally seething, arms folded as you glare at the back of his head, and just radiate all of your anger, hoping Mark feels it. You can’t stand him, he makes you furious, and it just races through you, violent urges appearing in your mind like pushing Mark up against a wall or maybe having him push you against a wall, hands rough on him or maybe him being rough back with you, and then your imagination shifts and suddenly it’s not just pure anger—the urges in your mind shift the visualization to Mark’s bare shoulders under your hands, his hips against yours.

It’s fucking stupid. Hate and lust are so easily tangled together for you.

Just a few days later, you’re just generally pissed off. You didn’t sleep well the night before because the other girl was talking in her sleep, plus you’re just still mad at Mark for telling you to shut the fuck up, and you just feel angry and frustrated at yourself for your mind creating scenarios that turn sexual every time you want to be mad at Mark.

So, when you’re coming back to the hotel from a performance, neither one of you is actually in a good mood at all. Everyone’s keeping their distance, and as you walk toward the bank of elevators in the hotel lobby, the rest of your group members hurry ahead and the staff members drag behind, but you notice none of this until you’re already in the elevator with the doors closed behind you.

It’s just you and Mark.

“What the fuck.” You groan, turning your back on him.

Mark makes an equally dissatisfied noise as the elevator shudders to life and begins rising. It shudders again and stops. You wait for the doors to open, for some poor hotel guest to step into the hostile air of this elevator, but nothing happens.

The doors stay closed.

And then the lights flicker.

“What did you do?” Mark asks, moving over toward you to move you out of the way so he can look at the panel of buttons you were standing in front of.

You frown at him, wrinkling your nose at his close proximity. “I didn’t do anything. Why would I? You think I want to be stuck in here with you of all people?”

Mark snarks back, and you are just not in the mood at all to deal with him, especially not in light of this new situation.

You shove him.

Mark stumbles backwards until his shoulders hit the opposite wall of the elevator. For just a second his eyes are wide and confused, but then that look disappears and he’s sneering at you, like a challenge.

You close the distance between you, press your hands to his shoulders to keep him pinned like that, but Mark just keeps staring right back at you without any shame or fear or anything more than like this look of satisfaction. As if he’s been waiting for you to snap like this.

And that infuriates you.

“I fucking hate you.” You spit the words, but Mark just smirks.

When you first moved to Seoul, when you left your family behind in pursuit of your career, your father slipped you a gift before you got in the car to leave. “Don’t tell your mother,” he’d whispered. “I just want you to be safe. It’s a big city and there are dangerous people.” He’d pressed the gift into your hands, hugged you tight, and let you climb into the car that would take you away from them.

It was a while later when you finally looked at the gift and found that it was a switchblade he’d slipped you. At first it seemed over dramatic. You would just carry like pepper spray or something. But within your first week in the city, as you walked home alone from the convenience store one night, you wished you had the blade, so you began carrying it.

And even now, a few years later, with bodyguards who protected you, you still carried the switchblade.

You leave one hand on Mark’s shoulder, pinning him to the elevator’s wall, and your other you dip to your waist.

Mark hisses in surprise when you press the cold metal of the blade against his throat. Not hard enough to do any damage, just enough that he feels it’s presence, the sharpness, the threat.

It’s a risky move and you realize it the next second. Mark could freak the fuck out, report you to your managers for threatening him with a weapon. You could be terminated for this.

Luckily, Mark just swears under his breath, and you feel his fingers curl over your hip as he tilts his chin up to expose more of his throat.

Heat unfurls in your belly. The whole atmosphere in the elevator changes. Your pressed against every inch of Mark, your blade grazes his throat when he swallows. When he moans and shifts his hips forward, just enough that you can feel something hard against you, you drop everything, step back.

“Are you turned on, you sick fuck?” You stow the switchblade back in your waistband, noticing the way Mark’s eyes follow it. And though your tone is accusatory, you push away the voice in the back of your mind that reminds you that you’re turned on too. That heat is just pooling inside you; you can still feel the ghostly warmth and weight of Mark’s body against yours, feel the thrill that zipped through you as you held a knife to his throat and he liked it.

The elevator shudders again and moves, smoothly this time until it stops on the floor where your rooms are. You leave the elevator, slipping out before the doors are even all the way open.

You hear Mark leaving behind you, and then you hear the beep of his hotel room unlocking and the soft sound as he falls shut behind him. You shape your head, trying to clear your thoughts that invade, telling you to walk back to his door, to knock and go inside, to just let the list consume you and be fired by that hatred.

Your roommate is sitting on her bed when you come inside your room, and she glances at you sneakily a few times before saying, “What took you so long? We were making bets in our elevator on if you or Mark was going to kill the other first. I don’t see any blood or anything, so I’m only assuming that he’s alive too?”

“Yeah. Our elevator stopped for a couple minutes.” You dig into your suitcase. “I’m going to shower.”

She doesn’t say anything else, just watches you gather your clothes and go. And you’re grateful for the silence because it lets you run things back in your mind, repeating every encounter you’ve had with Mark to date. Is there something you’ve missed? Some detail that showed to you that he would like you holding a knife to his throat like that?

You think about it in the shower until your roommate knocks on the door and says she has to pee. You think about it more as you lay in bed in the dark, your roommate’s sleep-talking making you incapable of falling asleep. Though the thoughts running through your mind could also be to blame for that—how could you sleep when you’re thinking again of Mark’s moan, his hips rolling forward to grind his erection against you.

It’s after one in the morning when you decide you can’t stand it anymore. You pull on a sweatshirt, slip on some shoes, and you tuck your blade into your waistband again.

Mark’s rooming alone. You know that because everyone had made a fuss about it. The other guys hadn’t wanted solo rooms, but Mark won the draw. So you know there’s no one else there to disturb when you walk over to the door. You consider knocking, but it’s late and the noise will echo, it could wake someone else up.

As you stand there contemplating what to do next, your hand raised as if to knock, someone walks up beside you.

“What are you doing?” Your manager asks.

You jump, drop your hand down to your side. “Oh God, you scared me. I’m just—I was coming over to apologize to him. We were arguing in the elevator earlier, and I’ve been thinking about it instead of sleeping, and I just want to apologize. But if I knock it could wake up everyone.”

Your manager, who you know hates that you and Mark don’t get along, smiles. “I think apologizing is a great idea.” He reaches into his pocket, sorts through a few room cards, and then hands one over. “Don’t take too long apologizing, okay? And please don’t make it into a bigger argument. We have a schedule tomorrow that you need to be well rested and on your best mood for, okay?”

You nod, swipe the keycard, and then open the door before handing back the card and watching your manager walk away.

The room is completely dark once the door closes softly. But you stand there for a moment and let your eyes adjust to light offered by the city, shining in through the window since Mark had barely drawn the curtains.

He’s in bed, asleep on his back, so you move carefully as you crawl onto the bed, straddle his waist, and then pull out your switchblade and press the button on the side of it.

Mark’s eyes fly open when he hears the snick of the blade opening. You put the blade to his throat in the same move, quickly quieting him, though he still whispers your name, his voice raspy, surprised and turned on. His hands are on your thighs, his eyes are wide and shimmer in the faint light.

Slowly his lips form into a smile. “Did you come to hurt me?”

You don’t answer him, just carefully draw the tip of the blade over his throat, over the soft skin under his jaw, right to his chin so he angles his face up. You reach with your free hand to touch his hair, brush your fingers through the gentle curls on the top of his head. Your heart pounds in your chest, this close and this intimate with Mark.

“You know, before we were in the same group, I used to really think you were hot. You were my favorite in NCT.” You explain softly. “But then the first time we met, god, it was nothing like I expected. You were totally different than your image, and then the next time was worse. You weren’t nice to me, and I didn’t know what I did wrong. Since then it’s only gotten worse for the two of us, but, shit, you’re still very, very attractive, Mark Lee.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, and say nothing, just slowly roll your hips down over his dick. His fingertips skin up your thigh, dipping under the edge of the shorts you’d worn to sleep in. Your pussy tingles with desire, but you’re in charge here and you want him to feel that.

You sit up, moving your hand with the blade away as you drag Mark upright as well with your hand in his hair. You keep that hand in his hair, but your other goes to his shoulder, and in the moment before you kiss him, you hear Mark’s breath catch and then pick up, and he lurches forward to press your mouths together, a moan slipping from his lips.

You slide the blade over to press against the base of his neck, and Mark groans, his hands on your skin twitch as if to draw your down against him. You sink down against his cock growing hard in his shorts, circle your hips and bite his bottom lip.

“You’re so weird, Mark. Does this turn you on?” You drag the blade down over his collarbones to the neck of his tshirt. “A sharp blade against your throat, a girl who you hate sitting in your lap and wielding it?”

He hums. “Love it. I think I’ve—“ Whatever else he was going to say fades away as you kiss him again.

The tip of the blade snags against the neck of his shirt, and the fire ignited in your belly tells you that maybe it’s time that you just get rid of the shirt all together. You’re pleased at the east slide as your switchblade cuts just right through the fabric. Mark makes a startled sound, but you shush him and kiss him some more until the blade slides sideways and refuses to cut anymore of the shirt.

You sit back on your heels, drop the knife to the side, and grab his shirt instead. Mark watches you with his bottom lip caught beneath his teeth, and you tear his shirt the rest of the way apart. It falls down from his shoulders, leaving Mark’s bare chest in front of you.

When you lips touch his collarbone, Mark makes another quiet contented sound, but the farther down his chest you kiss and lick, the less quiet he gets. When you reach the base of his sternum, he tries to rock his hips up against you, so you press a hand to his shoulder, and push to get him to lay flat again.

You pick up the blade once more, slide it down the center of his chest as you sit up on his hips. Mark watches you closely, try not to breathe too hard when you skim the blade close to his nipples, and when you have it near his abs, he flexes them.

It’s when you start to slide back from his hips, bringing the knife closer to his waistband, that Mark squirms.

“Relax.” You palm his dick. “I’m not going to cut this off or anything.” He pulses in your hand, and you give a gentle squeeze that has Mark closing his eyes and biting back a sound. “Unless you want me to really cut you? The thrill of the knife itself isn’t enough for you, is it, Mark?”

He shakes his head.

You move the knife back up his chest. You hesitate, not wanting to do it in the wrong spot or too deep or anything actually dangerous to him.

“Don’t tell me you’re pussying out now?” Mark asks.

“Of course not.” You touch the tip of the knife to a spot on the right side of his chest. “I’m just building the tension. I know you like it.” You pump your hand over his clothed dick again.

“Then why don’t you just—“

For a moment you think maybe you didn’t actually cut him at all, then a fine line of blood wells up on his chest. Mark hisses, his dick moves in your hand. You drag your thumb through his blood, smearing it over his chest, and you realize your pussy is dripping wet. You didn’t know that you were really and truly into this knifeplay or the blood until right this second.

Mark almost whimpers when you press your thumb against the cut again. “Fuck, fuck. This is hot.” He rocks his hips up into your hand.

It’s a shallow cut, already it’s stopped bleeding.

Mark rolls his hips, trying to get more friction than your hand is offering. When you bring the knife down to his abdomen again, he goes still, but you can almost feel him quivering with the need to move, held back by the thin sliver of the knife’s edge.

Quickly you drop the blade, put both hands to the waistband of his shorts and his underwear and bring them down. His cock springs up, wet and hard, shiny with precum. Mark kicks his shorts off to the foot of the bed, his hand flies to touch himself.

You take up the switchblade again, and gently tap it against the back of his hand, slide it along this forearm and then toward his palm. Mark lets go of his hold on his dick before the blade gets too close to that sensitive part of him.

With nothing touching him, no knife or hands or anything, just you staring down at him, his cock bobs in the cool air, dripping a clear drop of precum to his belly.

You skim the blade through it scooping some up, and you bring it up to Mark’s mouth. His breath clouds the metal, and he looks into your eyes as he holds out his tongue.

You’re very careful as you wipe his wetness off on his tongue. Mark’s cock twitches as he tastes it, the taste of his precum and the cold bite of the metal. You feel powerful like that, fully dressed over his nude body, making him clean his precum off your knife.

And the power feels nice, but as you watch his cock so hard against his abdomen, you’re pretty sure that having him inside you just might feel nicer.

You slip your sweatshirt over your head, and you hear Mark’s gasp as your tight tank top has your tits on full display for him, your nipples stretch against the fabric, and he moans again. You see him lift his hands before he second-guesses himself and drops them to his sides again. You want to feel him touching you, palming your tits while you’re seated on his cock.

You move forward, properly straddling him again, rubbing your still clothed pussy over his bare cock. Mark moans, and you muffle the sounds with your lips on his.

He touches you then, his hands dive into your hair, his hips rock up against you, dry humping you, and making such lovely noises that you swallow down.

You sit up, breaking the kiss, and holding your hands to his shoulders so he can’t follow you (as he tries to do). You glide your hips forward and back, savoring the feel. “Fuck, Mark. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to be inside me?”

“Yes, I always have. First time we met,” Mark’s nearly panting as you keep humping him. “That first day, do you remember? You were fresh from practicing your debut? You were wearing a tight top and short shorts, and you looked so fucking pretty, dewy from exertion, and I just looked at you and thought about how good you would look like that but from my cock.”

He’s saying all the right things right now. You’re soaking wet, and you stop to just grind your clit in little circles against the head of his dick.

“I want to make you cum on my cock, so just stop with this fucking teasing.” Mark groans, bucking his hips up.

You rise up on your knees, reach back to pull aside your shorts and panties, and then you sink back down, rubbing your bare wet pussy over his erection. Mark nearly whimpers, but he covers his mouth with his hand, just watching you tease.

When you sink down on him at last, his cockhead dips inside you, and you just keep going, sinking down down down until Mark’s cock is fully inside you. You sit on him for a minute, savoring the feeling of being full. He hits all the right spots just like this, and you wonder how angry it would make him if you just stayed like this, cockwarming him. Would it make him angry enough to take control?

You couldn’t have that. So you move.

You keep it slow at first. Still teasing, loving the way that Mark bites his lip to try to keep quiet, how his eyes flutter shut when you pull up to just the tip and clench around him. You love seeing him like this, totally under your control.

The switchblade lays forgotten in the sheets beside Mark, so you pick it up, close the blade and toss it onto the bedside table. Enough of that, you got what you came here for, though there is one other thing you want to try.

You sink all the way down on his cock, circling your hips, and you moan his name. Mark hums in response, his hands come up to grasp at your hips, helping you in the way you move. You trail a hand up his chest, and when your fingertips touch his throat, Mark opens his eyes to watch you warily.

You press your thumb in, applying light pressure. You just think Mark would look so pretty with your hand on his throat, and if he likes the threat of a knife, maybe he’ll like being choked too.

Mark’s face shutters, closed and cold suddenly.

“No,” he says, batting your hand away. His tone goes so serious that you fully back off, sitting totally upright. At least now you know not to test it again. So instead you reach for his hands, bring them up from your hips to your chest.

His hands are warm and good, massaging your tits, but then also pinching your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. You drop down hard on his cock. Heat blossoms inside you, hungry and seeking all the pleasure you can get.

Mark sits up as if he needs the same thing. He kisses you again, a clash of lips and teeth and tongues. You swear you catch the metallic tang of blood, but then it’s just the taste of Mark’s kiss, a hint of mint and something else, and you fuck yourself down on his cock, harder and faster, no longer trying to tease him because you just want an orgasm, want to feel yourself unraveling with Mark inside you.

He gets there before you. Your fingers move over his chest, one of them dragging over the cut you gave him, and that’s what finally sets him off.

Mark moans out a series of swears, his hands fall to your hip, pulling you down on him as he rocks up into you, and cums. Shooting his load inside your pussy.

You fall complete into him. Chest to chest. You grasp at his back and his shoulder, your nails scrape his skin, and Mark groans, pulsing the last of his cum inside you. You moan his name, whimpering as your orgasm finally hits you, buzzing to life and burning through you. You shake and clench, and you bite down on Mark’s shoulder as his hands press you down on his cock, still grinding you against him.

After the last of your orgasmic bliss fades and the uncomfortable over sensitivity sets in, you put a hand to his arm, and Mark stops moving your hips in those slow circles. You don’t move, not more than detaching your mouth from his shoulder. You just rest your head there instead, breathing slowly and just settled in to this feeling of being wrapped up in Mark.

Everything is quiet. Maybe somewhere outside the room in the city you hear sounds, distant sirens or road noise. But inside it’s nothing more than quiet breathing and heartbeats, the rustling of sheets when you finally move off of him to lie down beside him instead.

In this quiet it seems okay to touch and be touched by each other. Mark’s fingers are light on your skin, tracing your curves, the shapes of shadows, just touching you to touch you.

“How did you get in here anyway?” Mark asks after an eternity, his fingers stop moving over your body and instead curl against your inner thigh.

You take a moment to answer, to finally find your voice again. “I told our manager I was coming in here to apologize to you. He let me in without another question.” You take his hand away from down there.

Mark smiles and twists his hand around so he can play with your fingers. “Apology accepted, I think. And if this is how you always apologize, I don’t see any reason that we should stop doing what we do outside of this room.”

“I still hate you.” You tell him. “You just happen to also really turn me on while annoying the shit out of me.”

“Good,” Mark guides your joined hands to his chest, brings them down to rest over his steadily beating heart. “I still hate you too.”

based off this message: masochist/sadist mark? You're in a co-ed group, you see eachother everyday and for some reason he fucking hates you?? The longest conversation you had was him telling you to shut the hell up because you were laughing (not even that loud)? The nice christian boy is for press? One day you're not in the mood and you snap on him and threaten to come to his room when he's sleeping with a knife(it gets graphic) and he thinks it's hot?So you grab that knife and hold it to his neck and he smiles?

a/n: this was a message that at first I wasn’t too sure about, but god then I started thinking about it and I had to write this

#mark smut #nct smut #nct mark #nct 127 #mark lee

1K notes · View notes

percyinpanties · 3 years

Note

hey I'm the pipeyna anon and that's ok!!! can u do pipeyna with piper pining after hot jock Reyna which hopefully ends happy (smutty)

just a quick warm-up, i say, i won’t spend too much time on this. i really had to resist just going on and on and on with this. i miss writing this ship, damn.

anyway - this fits really well with an enemy to lovers prompt i have for jercy, so thats what im hinting at too here.

Read on Ao3

for context : i always write college aus from a UK uni perspective bc that’s all i know and i don’t care to adapt to how it might or might not work in the u.s. (sorry)

rating: teen+ (no smut in this one, but let me tell you, this TEMPTED me)

words: 2.2k

___

“An actual goddess” Piper says wistfully from where she’s leaning against the wall next to Percy, taking back the cigarette she’d just bummed of him. Her eyes are glued on the field, and more precisely on Reyna, smile on her face and water bottle in her hand as she jogs over to Jason standing at the side of the field. They greet each other with a hug, even as Reyna wrinkles her face, seemingly complaining about her own sweatiness.

It’s coincidence that the end of Reyna’s soccer practice collides conveniently with Piper’s and Percy’s late seminar on Mondays. It isn’t coincidence that Percy and her have taken to sharing a cigarette on the side of the building that looks out toward the field during their break, however.

Percy makes a non-committal noise and his eyes follow Piper’s gaze while she takes a drag of the cigarette and wrinkles her nose. She needs to quit smoking for good, she thinks, and flicks the ash to the ground. There was a brief moment in first year when Piper thought that Percy might be interested in Reyna, or she in him, but luckily, nothing ever came of that.

“You think they’re dating?” Percy asks, arms crossed over his chest now, making no move to take the cigarette back again. He’s not even pretending not to be staring, his eyes intense where they flit between Reyna and Jason. Piper on the other hand has the common decency to at least cast her eyes away every now and again before she’s caught looking for a little too long.

At the edge of the field, Reyna and Jason are standing close together now, chatting about god knows what, smiling and laughing. They’re certainly comfortable with each other, but Piper can’t say that’s much of an indication given how she’s around Percy.

“I hope not.” Piper mutters and Percy laughs at that, even though she knows he agrees. Percy wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but Piper would bet real money that he has a thing for Jason, too, as much as he claims to hate the guy. She’d have to be deaf and blind not to notice the tension between them.

It would make sense, though, in a way. Jason is captain of the men’s rugby team, Reyna of the women’s soccer team. Some of their practices collide and the two clubs do most of their weekly socials together, and Piper’s seen the two of them hanging out aside from that plenty as well. Reyna and her haven’t talked much about Jason, maybe because Piper hasn’t actually exchanged more than five words with him and never had much of an urge to change that, but she knows that Reyna and Jason have known each other before university.

Around Jason, Reyna seems to let her guard down, something Piper has only managed to achieve a handful of times since they met during their first year.

Jason laughs at something Reyna says, eyes bright and head thrown back and Piper can’t deny that he’s handsome, at the very least. He’s fairly decent, too, as far as guys go, and really, Piper knows she shouldn’t be hoping that there is nothing between Reyna and him if that is what would make Reyna happy.

“Invite her to the party.” Percy suggests then, drawing Piper’s attention back from the tangent her brain was so insistent to start on. When Piper turns her face to look at him, he’s already looking back at her, one eyebrow arched. “I was going to, anyway, but it’s different coming from you yourself.”

He’s not teasing her, it’s an honest suggestion, and technically not even a bad one. It’s Percy’s birthday this weekend, and if nothing else, it would be a good excuse to hang out again. Percy knows a ton of people, but he usually doesn’t invite too many to his party, so with any luck, it won’t be too crowded to actually spend some time with Reyna.

More than that, though, it’s another opportunity for Piper to finally get a move on. Percy, Piper knows, thinks that Piper’s pining had reached a point where it’s almost comical halfway through last year, but even so, Piper has yet to manage to actually act on her feelings.

A party is casual enough that she can always play it off as nothing serious when it ends up blowing up in her face. Piper might finally get over herself and just ask Reyna out already – although she’s tried that a few times before only to find herself tongue tied and staring at Reyna like she hung the moon in the sky. She’s been head over heels for Reyna since maybe three weeks after they met in first year, and now that they’re starting their third and final year, Piper needs to get a move on or it’ll simply be too late. Granted, she’s scared shitless at the prospect of being turned down, but at this point, even that would be better than pining forever and never finding out if she’d even stand a chance.

“Yeah… maybe.” Piper says finally, and manages a small smile towards Percy who bumps his shoulder against hers playfully. They should be heading back inside, so Piper sneaks a last glance toward Reyna and this time, finds her looking back.

They don’t share any classes this year, and Piper doesn’t usually run into Reyna on campus, so on Wednesday morning, she ends up texting Reyna on her way to class. She fumbles with her phone, almost tripping over her own two feet trying to type the words out as fast as possible, and ends up having to sidestep off the path to actually send the texts.

Hey you.

we’re having a party on Saturday, it’s Percy’s birthday.

Piper wants to add more, but instead, she bites her lip and stuffs her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. It’s almost an open invitation like this already anyway, and Piper wants to gauge Reyna’s first reaction before deciding exactly how she’s going about asking. Technically, it would be so easy to just as Reyna to go with her, specifically, to the party, but the intention might be lost over text and anyway, wouldn’t it be simpler to just invite her generally?

Piper frets throughout the entirety of her first lecture, and most of the second one, for nothing. Reyna doesn’t answer, even though the messenger app shows Piper that she’s read both texts already, and Piper tries not to be disappointed about it. She doesn’t know what Reyna’s schedule is like today, the girl might just be busy and planned on replying later. It makes sense, much more than Piper’s second thought that Reyna is not answering because Piper is annoying and Reyna doesn’t actually want to spend any time with her. She knows that thought is stupid, knowing that however does nothing to ease the anxious knot in Piper’s stomach.

Piper finds herself checking her phone more often than not. It would be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous, and if the lecturer wasn’t so clearly catching on that Piper isn’t paying as much attention to the class as she is to her phone. She texts Percy as well, but she knows he’s in that seminar he shares with Jason, so chances are that she won’t be getting a reply on that end anytime soon either. In the end, she has to force herself to put her phone away and actually focus on the lecture up front, even though by that point, she is already lost as to what they’re even talking about in the first place. It’s no good, and Piper can’t deny being relieved when the lecturer eventually dismisses the class.

She doesn’t allow herself to check her messages until she’s across campus in the coffee shop, queuing for some much needed caffeine and fishing out her phone so she doesn’t have to make small talk with anyone while she waits in line. Reyna still hasn’t replied, but at least Percy has messaged her after his seminar.

I’m gonna strangle him, Piper. You’ll have to bust me out of prison because they are going to arrest me for goddamn murder.

All she’d asked was if his classes were as boring as hers today, and while she had expected Percy to go off about Jason in reply, this isn’t exactly what she’d thought to be reading today. She smiles at her phone, types out a quick reply and moves up in the queue.

That bad? What’s he done now?

The way Percy talks about Jason makes Piper think of a Cartoon Network villain, always plotting, provoking and scheming. The few times she’s spoken to Jason, the guy wasn’t half bad, and if Piper is honest, she doesn’t quite get the vendetta these two have with each other. She suspects though that it has something to do with how ‘infuriatingly attractive, like fucking superman or something’ Percy described Jason after their first class together.

It’s like he thinks I’m stupid or something. Got a dumb fucking project to do together and he honestly told me that he ‘needs to pass this class so iif I’m not planning to put in the work, we might as well ask for new partners right away’

Like, excuse me, bitch? My grades are better than yours, for one thing

And for another, it’s not like good-old Dodds is gonna let us switch anyway

Piper huffs audibly while she reads the texts. It’s clear Percy’s actually upset by this, and she figures it will only get worse if they actually have to do the work together in the coming weeks. Before she can shoot Percy a reply though, she’s next in line.

Piper orders her coffee, steps aside to wait once she’s paid, and rereads Percy’s texts before she types her reply to Percy.

Sounds like a dick move.

Piper’s almost inclined to defend Jason for a moment, since Percy mostly doesn’t pay much attention in class, especially in Mrs. Dodds seminars – so how is Jason meant to know how much effort Percy puts in outside of it? On the other hand, though, Piper knows how Percy is, and how personally he’s clearly taken Jason’s comment already, so trying to convince him otherwise would simply be fruitless.

Once Piper’s coffee is done, she heads back outside, finding an empty bench to enjoy the break before her next class. If nothing else, at least Percy’s ranting is distracting her from Reyna, and the party, and asking the other girl out – and in between the rapid texts Percy and her are sending back and forth Piper almost forgets about it entirely. Until she has to head back to her last class, that is, and sees that Reyna has, so far, still left her on read.

Piper hesitates for a moment, clicking on the text field without typing anything just yet. Is she going to come off as desperate if she texts again, or should she just clarify now before it gets too late and Reyna already makes different plans for the weekend?

Piper types out a few words, deletes them again and pockets her phone only to get it back out a few seconds later to try again. She shouldn’t be walking and texting, especially given that she should be going faster to actually make it to her lecture in time, but Piper knows that if she doesn’t send this text now, she’ll spend another lecture agonising over what to say.

So yeah, I wanted to invite you too ofc :)

Piper cringes at her wording, but figuring it won’t get much better, she sends the text anyway and finally tucks her phone back into her pocket to actually hurry to class.

By the time Reyna replies, it’s late and Piper is sitting on the beat-up couch in her shared flat’s living room, watching something trashy on TV without really paying much attention at all. Percy is clanking around in the kitchen, making something that smells good enough to remind Piper that she should probably be getting herself some food, too. She’s about to get up and rummage through her fridge compartment in search of something edible when her lock screen lights up with a message from Reyna, and that derails any thoughts of food immediately. Piper isn’t subtle in the way she practically lunges for her phone, but luckily, Percy can’t see and judge her from his position in the kitchen.

Sorry, long day, reads the first text, following a few seconds later by another one.

Promised Jason to hang out but I’d love to :(

Piper bites her lip, knowing before typing out the words that Percy won’t like what she’s doing in the slightest.

You could bring him? Percy won’t mind.

Except that Percy most certainly will mind, Piper thinks, and grimaces. If she hadn’t come off as desperate before, she most certainly does now – texting back within less than a minute after having been left on read all day, only to offer that Reyna can bring her friend (boyfriend?) along as well if that means she’ll be there.

There’ll be other opportunities, Piper tells herself, and scrubs a hand over her face. She needs to chill, and maybe she needs to grab a cigarette and step outside and calm down before she embarrasses herself even further.

Piper stares at the screen. How on earth is she meant to interpret this? At this rate, she won’t make it until Saturday, dying of one crisis or another before then.

if you’re sure? I’ll ask him.

haven’t seen you in a while, would be nice to hang out again ;)

I’m sure.

#will i continue this? maybe #i do kinda wanna write the party part and have it ending ~spicy~#pipeyna #piper mclean #reyna ramirez avila arellano #my stuff #my fic #prompts #teen+#pjo #Anonymous #jercy #in the bg

36 notes · View notes

420themanbehindtheslaughter69 · 3 years

Text

Found Diary...

This is 100% based on a TikTok I legit just saw by yoongi.xd so full credit to them for the idea :)

R/F/N = Random Female Name R/M/N = Random Male Name

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst(?), lemon(not really)

Au: Non-Idol au, High School au, Gender neutral! Reader, it's 2019, Yoongi is 17

Song: Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and the Diamonds

Word Count

Warnings: swearing,

Pov: alternating

POV - Y/n's First Person

High school... I hate it. I've always hated it. I feared going into high school since I was little. The only reason why I had any bit of motivation is that I got to see my best friend Yoongi.

Min Yoongi. The introvert who can do literally anything. It's crazy. I don't know how we ended up becoming friends, but we did. He's always been a tough cookie and had a hard exterior. Though it didn't take long for me to break into it.

It apparently took less amount of time for this bitch named R/f/n. They met about two months ago, and they're already sucking faces.

Which is what's happening right now.

"Can you guys like not to do that while I'm trying to eat?" I look at Yoongi and R/f/n and they pull away.

"No." R/f/n scoffs trying to pull Yoongi back in for a... I can't even call it a kiss. "No, R/f/n, it's okay. We can continue later, Okay?" R/f/n pouts and nods her head, making me fake a gag.

"Okay, Yoongi-Baby. I should probably get going then. I love you." She stands up giving him another kiss. "I love you too, R/f/n." They wave to each other and she exits the cafeteria.

"Fucking finally. I thought that you'd be stuck there forever." My comment makes Yoongi chuckle. "Yeah, she's really touchy. It's okay though. I like her a lot." He looks down with a shy smile on his face.

"Yeah, I know you like her a lot. And I'm so happy that you've finally found someone that makes you happy." He looks up at me and I smile at him. "What do you mean? You make me happy? You're my friend." The legendary words that make any fool break.

Being friends with him is great and all but I think I would prefer to be more. "You know what I mean, Yoongi. We're friends, not lovers. She makes you happy in a romantic way." I stick my spoon in the pudding of my school lunch and stir it around before deciding that there is no way in Hell am I going to eat it.

"Thank god you're not about to eat that. I probably would've thrown up if you did." Yoongi says chuckling before drinking the chocolate milk in a cardboard box. "It's chunky." He continues after setting the milk down.

I look at the pudding and pull a face of disgust. "Yeah, it's very chunky." I throw the spoon on the tray and look over at the clock on the wall. "We have 10 minutes to get to class... Do you wanna start heading there now?" Yoongi nods and we both stand up and throw our shit away.

As we exit the Cafeteria, this stupid fucking bitch, R/m/n, throws a basketball at me. I hate guys. "Yo Yoongi! You gonna play later? Also sorry..." He stops for a moment and looks at me. "You." He then looks back at Yoongi.

"Nah, I promised Y/n that I'd help them with their homework." R/m/n nods and walks away. I completely forgot that I had asked him to help me.

"Thank fucking god it's Friday. I literally don't wanna have to deal with these fuckers for much longer." Yoongi says wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

~ After School~

"Do you really need help? It seems as if you just wanted to hang out?" Yoongi drops the notebook onto his bed and looking at me. Obviously, I lied. I look away in shame, and he chuckles. "If you wanted to hang out, you could've just asked. We're friends after all."

"But it seems as if we've been so distant." He lets out a long sigh and he rubs his eyes.

"Is this about R/f/n?" Yoongi raises his voice a little bit, making me jump.

"No, it isn't about R/f/n. I mean it kind of is bu-" Yoongi lets out a long irritated sigh.

"Why do you hate her so much? What the fuck did she do to you?" He yells at me.

"I never said I hated her!" Even though I do despise her, I would never admit that, especially to Yoongi. "What the fuck is your problem? Why are you getting so mad at me?" Suddenly, I'm angry. All I wanted was to hang out with Yoongi outside of school after what seems like the first time in months, and he's getting angry with me for no reason? Oh hell no.

"Recently all you've been doing is complaining about the fact that we're never with each other, but you're forgetting that we literally go to the same school and that we have most of the same classes! It's so fucking annoying!" I'm furious now. I stand up and start packing up my stuff with tears in my eyes.

I'm not crying because I'm sad, I'm crying because I'm angry. I run out of his room and get my shoes on at his door. "Y/n... I didn't mean to-" He calmly states as he stands at the top of the stairs.

"No. Fuck you Min Yoongi." I finally walk out of his house wanting nothing more than to lay in my bed. I want nothing more than to be at home, in my own room, with my headphones in, curled up under my blankets. I stomp down the street speedily, I turn around and see Yoongi standing outside his house.

"Yeah... fuck you Min Yoongi," I mutter looking forward again.

Lunchtime... It used to be my favourite subject in school because that's when I got to see Yoongi. It's been about a week since our fight. It was such a silly fight as well. I also haven't felt like eating out in public, so I haven't been buying any lunch.

Yoongi seems happy. He's been with the basketball players, their girlfriends, and R/f/n. He's acting as if nothing happened, as if he didn't freak out at me. I only have two other friends other than him, and one of them, Tara, doesn't have the same lunch as me.

"Hello~ Earth to Y/n!" Tommy says, waving his hand in front of my face. Tommy and Tara are twins, and they both happen to my two other friends. Convenient, I know. "You've been staring at Yoongi for the past ten minutes." Tommy continues before taking a big bite of his sandwich.

A sandwich that includes turkey, bologna, provolone cheese, mayo, and tofurkey. For some reason, he likes the smokey flavour of the fake meat mixed with the real meat. "Yeah, I'm aware I've been staring at him." I roll my eyes, playfully making Tommy laugh.

Tommy. Twin brother of Tara. Both are seventeen and from America. He has messy brown hair and greenish-brown eyes that look green in the right lighting, and in another lighting, looks brown. Cheap warm-tones cafeteria lighting makes his eyes the in-between colour of hazel. He has pale skin with natural red cheeks, along with freckles across his nose. He's not unattractive but he's definitely not on most people's level of beauty.

"How are you after the fight?" He says nonchalantly, peeling the crust off of part of the sandwich he's about to bite into.

"I wouldn't necessarily call it a fight. More of a 'he flipped and I didn't wanna deal with it' situation." I pick at my nails anxiously. I don't wanna talk about this. Tara knows that, but I guess she didn't tell Tommy.

"Yeah... Right." He says squinting his eyes at me to show he doesn't fully believe me. "Anyway, you wanna hang out after school? My biological dad sent a new video game if you wanna try it with me." I look at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle a little.

"Fuck yeah! What time?" He stops and thinks for a moment.

"Four-Thirty? I have theatre club after school."

I also have stuff after school to do. Not like a club, I mean I guess you can call it that, but I just go and chill out in the Library, reading a book with a group of other students. It's not a club where you have to sign up to be in, but more of a free-range. It's fun and relaxing, especially since I don't have to talk to anyone there unless the leader really wants us to, which she's an introvert and doesn't want to.

Alas, the school day is over. It's two-fifteen, the bell has rung indicating that we can now leave, but I head over to the library. Oh, I'm the first one here. I take a deep breath as I sit in the comfortable cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the Library. This area is very isolated, which is why we sit over here. It's quiet and away from other students who are wanting to come in here and study or something.

Though it's isolated, in the seat I am in, I have the perfect view of the door, which is open from Seven-thirty to two-fifteen, and then after, the Librarian, Mr Kim, who isn't too much older than us, closes the door but it remains unlocked.

It's now two-thirty, most of the kids that usually show up are here reading their books, there are a few new students who just wanted an escape, and-

"Ayo Yoongi pass the ball!" I look over at the door and see a dude, I recognize as R/m/n catching the brownish-red ball from a shorter boy with dark hair, I can obviously notice is Yoongi, especially since R/m/n called his name. I whine slightly as I slump into my chair. I hear the girls who are misogynistic for their boyfriend's validation giggle as they watch the guys.

Please God... don't let them see me.

Luckily they didn't, and I continue reading until I finish the book. Then I packed up my stuff and decided that it was better off that I leave early.

POV- Yoongi's First Person

"Hey, Yoongi~" R/f/b comes strutting over with her friends with a notebook in her hand. That looks like Y/n's notebook... she never let anyone touch it.

"I found Y/n's diary." She smiles mischievously.

"Let's read it!" R/m/n says, and the others agree. "But Yoongi should be the one to read it." R/f/n rolls her eyes before handing it to me.

I don't really wanna have to do this...

"Dear Diary, I will be writing all of my important accomplishments or just important things in general here. So starting with today, we have a new kid. He's really cute, I'm afraid to talk to him though."

"Boring! Skip forward!" One of R/f/n friends say. I nod and skip a few pages. October tenth two-thousand thirteen... that's when Y/n and I met.

"Today is October 10, 2013. Oh, dear Diary, I met a boy. He made my dull heart light up with joy. He's shy and kind of mean, but I think I can become his friend. I'm gonna keep trying." Oh god... I continue reading every few pages until the most recent...

"Dear Diary... we fell apart. He yelled at me and called me annoying. I had lied to him, saying I needed help with homework, when in reality, I just wanted to be with him. I wanted to be with him outside of school, with no interruptions from his basketball friends who always push me around when he's not there, with no interruptions from his snobby girlfriend to told me to go kill myself and to stay away from him. Just him and I. But when he noticed that I didn't actually need help, he flipped. I don't know what I did wrong... maybe it was because I kept it a secret that his friends are so shitty. At least I still have Tommy and Tara. They're the only ones I need. Oh, who am I kidding? I miss him so much. I love him." My heart stops as I continue reading. I look up at the people around me who just stare at me awkwardly and apologetically.

"Did you guys really do that to them?" I take them not answering as a yes. I look down at my watch to see it only just hit four o'clock. I have to go see y/n...

I put their diary in my bag and swing it over my shoulder before running out of the library. Everything seems to have turned in slow motion. My heart is pounding My friends are yelling after me, but all I want is to see y/n. I want to see their beautiful smile again. They like me... They like me. I was so blind to notice, but now I think about it, it was so obvious. I smile while running as I think about all the moments I have had with Y/n.

I finally arrived at Y/n's house, I'm out of breath and my legs sting. I walk up to the front door...

POV- Y/n's First Person

It's currently Four twenty-five, so I should probably start heading out to Tommy and Tara's house. Just as I open the door, I am greeted by someone I really don't wanna see. Yoongi.

"Y/n..." He lets out a long sigh and a small smile. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up. I don't even know why I freaked out as I did." I just stand there. I don't know what to say to him. I miss him... I miss being with him. I open my mouth to say something, but my mouth is dry and I can't say anything. Yoongi steps closer. My heart pounds out of my chest. His hand makes contact with my hip hand and...

The world around us has stopped. Nothing else is important. Min Yoongi is standing in my doorway kissing me. His single hand on my waist, slides around to my back, pulling me closer. We can't...

I push him away. "Yoongi..." I whisper. I didn't mean for it to come out so quietly, but with how nervous I am I can't help it. I want to kiss him. I've always wanted to... but now that it's actually happening-

"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much. I'm so sorry... please I need you back in my life... I never realized your feelings for me until just recently, and because I finally realized, that made me rethink everything. I never truly liked R/f/n... I never felt the way I do when I'm with you. You make me happy." He pants, pulling me toward my living room couch. I comply and sit next to him.

"Yoongi... I really like you. I always have. But you never liked me, why has that suddenly changed?" I want to cry. I feel so overwhelmed by everything. He shrugs before placing his hand on my cheek.

"Can I kiss you again... please?" I don't even care anymore. I nod and he pulls me towards him. His soft upturned lips make contact with mine. I move his silky hands from my cheek to my waist, and I hold onto his face. Yoongi's tongue tries to enter my mouth, but I allow it. I suck on his tongue as his lips are still pressed to mine.

Knock Knock Knock Knock

We pull away quickly. He laughs at the string of spit connecting us before I stand up and go over to the door.

"Hey, Tommy."

"It's five o'clock... is everything okay?" I look at my phone and my eyes widen. Has it really been thirty minutes since Yoongi got here?

"Yeah everything's fine, I'll be over in a minute though, okay? I might need to even wait until my mom gets home so she can drive me over since it's getting dark." Tommy nods and smiles. He waves and walks away, so I quickly shut the door and walk back over to Yoongi. "My room, now," I say softly and we both run up the stairs and into my room.

It's been a while since he's been in my room. I never told her, but my mom knew I liked Yoongi and as much as she trusted him, she felt afraid that he would do something.

Yoongi tackles me onto my bed after locking my door. His hands are on either side of my head. He dips down and starts leaving small kisses up my neck to my mouth, once he reaches my mouth he just barely touches it. "Yoongi... please..." I whine and he chuckles. I tangle my fingers in his hair.

Oh god, his beautiful dark hair. People wouldn't consider his hair curly, but it has some natural texture to it. So silky and soft. So healthy... every damn thing about Yoongi is perfect. His soft lips trail from my mouth to the soft dimple on my cheek, down my neck. He lingers at my neck for a little while, allowing me to feel how perfect even his lips are. So good at kissing, I guess that watching him and R/f/n make out had to lead me to think otherwise... R/f/n.

"Wait... Yoongi." He pulls away with a hum and looks at me. His dark lust-filled eyes have now turned into precious puppy dog eyes. They're glossed over and widened, as his lips are in a pout. "What about R/f/n?" He chuckles, making me embarrassed for asking.

"I'm done with her. Don't think about her, or Tommy, or R/m/n, or Tara, or Mr. Kim, or Ms. Jung. Think about us." I nod and he leans down to kiss me again, but before he can, someone knocks on my door.

"Y/n, I'm home." My mom says on the other side of the door.

"Okay, hi mom!" I call out, Yoongi flops softly onto the space next to me and wraps his arms around me.

"Tommy give me my phone!" I yell as Tommy and I run around my living room. Yoongi and Tara laugh at us, and I finally grabbed my phone from him and stuff it in my pants.

"Do you really think that'll stop me?" He says reaching towards me, but stops when Yoongi lets out a cough. "Sorry, Yoongi. Didn't mean that in a creepy way." He awkwardly apologizes and we sit down on the couch. I drape the blanket over Yoongi and I, as Tommy and Tara fight over who gets to hold the popcorn.

"I thought this was gonna be a calm movie night," Yoongi whispers in my ear with a smile. I let out a soft laugh and look over at the two twins.

"At least Tara isn't threatening to shove her fist up his ass again." Just as I say that, Tara then yells she was gonna shove her fist up Tommy's ass.

"I don't want anything else than to be here with you guys," Yoongi whispers again, placing a kiss on my nose. "I love you."

"I love you more."

#min yoongi #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x reader #fanfiction #bts oneshots #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bts rm #bts suga #agust d #suga bts #bts yoongi #x reader #songfic #fanfic #oneshot #fanfiction author #wattpad author #bts

20 notes · View notes

threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

06 | Over the Moon

→ previous | next

→ summary: You feel isolated in the vast American country with no one but your older brother and your six rowdy friends to keep you company. But when they disappear without a trace, you're left with nothing. Nothing until you become dragged into the world of the mob. The mafia world promises glory, fame and big bucks. But that comes with backstabbing, pain, regret and vengeance behind the veils. You're not ready for that alone. Are you?

→ genre: 85% angst, 15% fluff | mafia!au

→ warnings: profanity, intense description of torture, blood, mentions of death by torture

→ wordcount: 6.4k

It's been a few days since you walked out of Yoongi's bedroom after the gala. And you're not going to lie, it's been awkward with him ever since—he probably woke up in the morning confused and alone. Without the familiar curve of your body against his chest. Knowing him, he probably thinks he did something wrong. Which, of course, isn't true.

Yet you've been avoiding him. And he avoids you just the same to give you space.

You've found that not spending time with Yoongi actually allows you to think. You didn't realize how much a distraction Yoongi was in your life—how much he distracted you from getting what you really wanted: revenge.

All that extra time you spent cuddling with him and being with him is now spent thinking of Jimin. What would you say if the Crescents finally caught the murderer? You've been writing a couple of speeches out, trying to memorize the angry words ahead of time so you're not a mess when the true moment comes. You think about how infuriated you would be when you finally see the man that killed your brother. You wonder if, at that moment, you'll want that murderer to suffer. Maybe you'll ask JK to beat him up a little bit so he can have a taste of his own medicine. Or, better yet, drip a few drops of rubbing alcohol down his throat?

You hate yourself when you start thinking of these things. No, I need to take care of it in a civilized manner. But maybe you've spent way too much time as a Crescent, already. You've forgotten where they draw the line between malicious revenge and justified punishment.

And besides that point, you can't get your revenge if you never catch the murderer. It's been several months since you've become a Crescent, yet there hasn't been a single good lead on Jimin's murder. Sure, there are only seven people in the gang... but what was taking so long? The murderer is obviously an enemy of the Crescents. So how many enemies did they really have? And why were you kept in the dark about it?

They're questions that you have been meaning to ask Seokjin. But so very conveniently, he's never home.

"His day job keeps him well-occupied," Namjoon sighs as he shrugs. "I'll try to tell him when he gets home, alright, Y/N?"

Bullshit.

That's what Namjoon's been telling you for days now and not once has Jin come to find you. But knowing Seokjin, he wouldn't lie. The man has a heart of gold, so true to Namjoon's words, Jin's job must really be keeping him busy.

So you leave Namjoon's office feeling quite dejected once more. You shake your head. I need to stop fussing. Things will work out if I'm patient, right? I should probably just apologize to Yoongi so things are back to normal.

Yoongi's been nothing but an angel to you and it was unfair of you to push him away because you needed space to mull over Jimin's death. Yoongi is more than a distraction—he's someone you genuinely see in your future. And you always feel bad that he's left chasing after you...

You finally muster up the confidence to knock on his bedroom door at night. There's a bit of silence, but then he answers:

"Yes?"

"Yoongi..." you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut. "It's um, me." The door opens immediately and you almost fall forward if Yoongi hadn't caught your arms. "Hi..."

"Hey," he mutters. "Wanna talk?"

"Yeah," you nod, walking into his dark room and sitting down on his neatly made bed. "I want to apologize, actually."

Yoongi hums, sitting down next to you. "Okay," he says.

"Well, I think I've been unfair to you," you admit, looking down at your feet. "I like you, Yoongi. But I feel like I have a hard time showing it. When I'm with you... I just forget about everything, you know? I don't feel sad or bothered as I should be because, well, Jimin. But in those small moments when I'm not with you, reality comes crashing down on me and I just get so fucking miserable. It's hard to tell you what I'm exactly feeling because frankly, I'm a little confused, myself. And that day I just walked out of your room after the gala? I swear that was nothing against you. I like you for you, Yoongi..."

Yoongi grunts, pulling his knees to his chest. "I understand, Y/N."

"I'm sorry that you caught me at such bad timing... And I'm sorry I push you away when you're just trying to help, okay?" you sigh. "I really like what we have, and I don't want to butcher it."

Yoongi simply nods. "I didn't think you needed to apologize over this," he shrugs. "I get what you're going through, Y/N. I get that you need your alone time. And frankly, I do too, sometimes. You don't have to apologize for being confused over your life, right now. I'm here to help if you need it, but you shouldn't feel obligated to feel sorry when you need space. You would've done all of this the same for me."

He's right. You would've done the same for him. And in that way, Yoongi becomes the perfect puzzle piece that had been missing for years of your life. You two have similar ideals, similar thoughts, similar ways of conveying yourself. Both of you are straight-forward, preferring to ditch flowery language for concision. You don't believe in stupid fairytale romances and neither does he—in fact, neither of you know anything about romance at all. Dating Yoongi does not give you insane butterflies in your stomach; it does not make you squeal like a hormonal middle school girl. He does not make you feel like the most special woman in the world. But that's fine because you doubt that any man could make you feel that way. You're practical—as much as he is. And you're attracted to him, and him, to you. Maybe you have some unconventional ways of showing your feelings, but he does as well. That's what makes him special. Because he's consistent with his feelings and he understands you.

"And Y/N?" Yoongi asks.

"Hmm?"

"I don't want anything to come in between us," he says, scratching his head awkwardly. "Um, especially not stuff about..." he pauses, "the Crescents."

You nod. "That especially."

"Are you tired?" he asks. "I was just gonna go to bed."

"I'll stay over if you want."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Yoongi smiles. He rolls over to his side of the bed, making room for you to crawl next to him and slip under the covers. Yoongi tucks the both of you in, grabbing your warm hand underneath the blankets.

God. Being with him feels too right. You've never felt this right in your life before.

"Y/N?" As if on cue, Yoongi calls your name.

"Hm?" you answer, turning around to face him in the dark.

"I love you," he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose. "Goodnight."

You smile, processing the weight of those simple words in your head. It's the first time something he says makes you feel like you're soaring in the air. "Goodnight," you whisper back, squeezing your interlocked hands. "And Yoongi?"

"Hm?"

"I love you too."

Sleeping has never been this peaceful.

Ever since you and Yoongi had exchanged meaningful "I love you's," your relationship with him had been much more stable. At this point, you practically live in his room and he in yours. It's a bit foreign for you to feel so much comfort around a single person, but Yoongi's obviously a special case.

For the most part, you try to keep business out of your relationship—the two of you keep it very professional when dealing. You know how worked up you get when talking about your brother's death. But sometimes you just can't help yourself. Waking up to a new day symbolizes another damn day that the person who had killed your brother is walking around free of charge and punishment. It symbolizes growing anxiety on your part. Growing frustration. Growing impatience.

You sigh, placing both hands on your stomach as you adjust your head laying on Yoongi's bare chest. It's late at night and the moon's at its peak, shining brightly through your room's window. Your Crescents marks are connected together once more.

"It's taking so long," you mumble.

"Hm?" Yoongi asks. "What is?"

You hesitate, blinking your eyes a few times to really contemplate whether you should bring up the sensitive topic again. But your frustration prevails. "Finding Jimin's murderer. It's been months. Taehyung acted like it would take less than a week the last time I talked to him. But it's been several weeks since he's told me that."

Yoongi hums thoughtfully but he does not speak.

"Why is it taking so long?" It's more of a rhetorical question, but you wouldn't mind if Yoongi answers.

Your boyfriend sighs. "Well..." he trails off, fingers coming down to play with your hair. "Um..." His eyebrows are crinkled and he looks deeply pensive, staring off into the distance with a hollow but perplexed look on his face. You realize he probably knows as much as you do at this point.

"I'm sorry. Never mind," you whisper. "You don't know either."

"Do you want me to help you get things off your mind?" Yoongi offers. "It seems like you're worrying again."

"No, it's fine," you say. "You're probably tired. You should get some sleep. Don't worry about me. It's just one of those nights, I guess... You know? When I get all sentimental? And I starting missing him... And wondering what it would've been like if he were still here..." You sigh deeply, frowning as you stare at the empty ceiling. "Just one of those nights..."

"Do you need time alone?" Yoongi asks. "It's okay. You can be honest."

"No," you answer without hesitation. "I like you here."

"Hmm..." Yoongi hums again. "Well then, can I help you distract yourself?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I've been meaning to ask you for a while," Yoongi smiles, rubbing your arm gingerly. "What do you think we would've been like as a normal couple?"

"A normal couple?"

"Yeah," Yoongi chuckles. "A couple outside of the Crescents."

"That's so weird," you frown. "I've never thought of that. Wow."

"Right? It's weird," Yoongi laughs at the way you wrinkle your nose in deep thought. "Do you think we would've been together outside of here?"

"I dunno," you say. "I might've been with Taehyung or something if you really think about it."

"Or Jungkook. Or Seokjin," Yoongi teases. "I would've been in the sidelines with Hoseok, right?"

"Who knows? I might've still pranked Hoseok with Jungkook and Taehyung," you giggle. "Maybe I never even grew up because of those two. Maybe Hoseok hated me because I pranked him and you hated me because I pranked Hoseok!"

"I can see that," Yoongi chuckles. "Then I'm happy with the way things are right now."

"Really?" you smile. "Me too."

"You know, our marks connect when we lay like this in bed."

You beam. "I know."

"Good." Yoongi wraps his arm around you. "Doesn't sleep sound welcoming right now?"

"You know what? Yeah," you agree. "It actually does."

Yoongi's somehow miraculously able to calm you down to the point you're able to feel tired again.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N."

"Goodnight," you whisper, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of your boyfriend as you drift off to sleep.

I’m writing this down so I don’t forget! Is it just me or does writing things down help you remember things better? I dunno. It’s late. I’m a bit tired and I feel like confessing my thoughts and feelings in writing. So, I guess I’ll be writing about the Crescents today.

The name honestly originated years ago back when I was in high school. I remember that particular day. Joon and I were sitting outside the balcony of his house, the rest of the squad lounging around in front of the television. We were talking about how pretty the moon was, too. I remember Joon and I were having a friendly debate about whether it was a waxing crescent moon or waning crescent moon for the longest time. Looking back now, I should’ve just admitted I was wrong. The moon had definitely been a waxing crescent. But despite the fact that we disagreed whether the moon was waxing or waning, we agreed that it was a crescent moon. And Joon specifically pointed out then that that was a beautiful name. It’s full of meaning too. A crescent moon is sharp at the two points but round—it’s well-balanced and no matter how small it is, it shines brightly in the darkness. A waxing crescent moon is always growing, developing to fill into a full moon, which the waning crescent moon prepares to start over as a new moon. We couldn’t pass up that symbolism.

Fast forward a few years later, that’s the name of our little gang: the Crescents. Plus, the mark looks damn nice, doesn’t it?

I can’t stop admiring the scar at the back of my neck. It hurt, but it was totally worth it.

Us Crescents chose our marks carefully and meaningfully, of course. We didn’t want anyone snooping around and calling us out for being in a gang, nor did we want to have a permanent mark on a place that didn’t mean much.

Seokjin spent two glorious days thinking about where to put his mark. He works in a bright kitchen so he couldn’t put it anywhere that could possible be visible to others (his hands, ankles, neck). He had to be smart about it. I told him he should get the mark where he felt the most confident in himself. Jin told me that was his shoulders, to which I’d laughed and replied that he couldn’t get two marks on each shoulder because that would technically be breaking protocol. Seokjin shrugged. He came back the next day and told everyone he was getting his mark on his collarbone. Not a bad choice. A lot of ladies swooned over his collarbone in our high school days.

if I thought Jin took long to decide... well, Joon took a whole week! I think it’s because he had to really factor in good hiding spots on his body so that no one in court could see his bond to the mafia. He didn’t want to place it anywhere obvious, nor did he want to place it anywhere too well-hidden. He told me simple is best and that he was having trouble coming up with a spot that was ‘simple’ enough. Finally, finally! he came up with the perfect place. Behind his ear. Joon told me that the spot behind your ear is actually one of the most painful places to get a tattoo or scarification for that matter. He said that the pain would be worth it, and it was signify his true bond to the Crescents. Joon always wears glasses at his day job, which would hide the mark, too. Genius, I tell you.

Yoongi chose a spot that was kind of obvious, in my opinion. He said if we were really going to go all out to bond ourselves as Crescents, he wanted to go all out as well. he decided in literally less than thirty seconds that he wanted it on his chest, and we all knew that his mark would rest near his beating heart.

Jungkook and Taehyung teamed up to get marks on matching places. It took them only ten minutes to decide too, and I can’t seem to find out the reason they chose those places but I’m starting to think the place didn’t matter for them. What did was that they’d be matching. Taehyung chose his left thigh and Jungkook, his right. I thought it was a loyal move more than an intelligent one.

I took a good few hours deciding where I wanted my mark to be. But if the Crescents were really going to be my family, I’d want them to watch my back. So I conveniently chose that I would get my mark on the back of my neck. I usually wear high-neck sweaters so no one at the bars would see. If I had to symbol of a Crescent on the back of my neck, I felt like the Crescents would always be watching out for my back! Even when I’m looking in the wrong direction, they’d be able to help me when danger is trying to ambush me. I like the meaning I chose for the placement of my mark a lot. And I’m not gonna lie, but Hoseok kind of copied me.

He wanted his mark somewhere on the backside of him because he had really liked my idea of the Crescents watching each other’s backs. But he couldn’t do it on the back of his neck. As a doctor, he’d surely have people snoop around and accidentally catch sight of it. Plus if he put it there, he’d really be copying me. That’s probably why he had to choose to place his mark on his literal back. I’m kind of glad it worked out that way because we all silently agreed not to get the marks in the same places.

Anyways, even though the whole choosing thing was a bit of a fiasco, I thought it was fun. We’ll have these marks forever. And they’re basically physical proof that we’re blood-bonded as the Crescents.

It’s beautiful, really.

I know we were already a family before all of this... But just having these marks as something official? Damn. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?

You've come to terms with yourself that you will never get used to this room. The walls are too white, the lights are too bright—everywhere you look nearly blinds your eyes. You're left casting your gaze downwards, looking at the tops of your shoes, or staring straight down at the grand table. You rarely participate, either. The tension is too thick, almost suffocating your throat and keeping you from speaking. There are fights in that white room. Fights and arguments and heated debates that you do not like to take part in.

No matter how brightly the lights of the white room shine, the meetings there are always grim.

"Do you think this constitutes the very starting point of a trend of boss murders again?" Namjoon asks, rigid in his seat, his posture so poise and perfect you would've thought he was a frozen statue if he hadn't just spoken.

"No," Seokjin answers right away. "One death does not mean anything. It could've been an accident. There is no reason to bring panic across the county gangs." His soft but authoritative voice makes you glance up to check if he's as calm as he sounds. But when you look up, his eyes meet yours and you freeze. But Jin merely smiles at you, giving you a small, reassuring nod. "There is no need to be scared."

It seems as though he is speaking to you and you only.

Hoseok scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. "Boss, I think we should be scared. And out of all of us, you should be the most scared. They're going after the mob bosses, again. Does that mean nothing to you?"

"We have no evidence whether that was a murder or not," Seokjin sighs. "Fear and panic will do us no good right now. We have to stay calm and collected before we jump to conclusions."

"Boss, I'm pretty sure he was murdered," Taehyung says. "They said he was shot twice—in the head and in his dick. I don't think even an accident would have done that."

"The correct term, Taehyung, is groin," Namjoon says in exasperation. "Stay professional. Please."

"Tae's right," Jungkook pipes in. "My police squad was talking about it the other day. It was definitely murder. They were going for the kill."

"Okay," Seokjin says, nodding slowly. "So it is a murder, then. But the boss of the Bloods was neither an ally nor foe. We are safe because we have no connections."

"We can't be sure of that," Hoseok gripes. "Constant fucking vigilance, you know? We're already keeping so many secrets. If the other gangs find out we don't have hundreds of hitmen sprinkled everywhere throughout LA, they're going to come for our fucking throats! We should all know that we're seriously outnumbered."

"Well, they haven't figured out how many are actually in the Crescents for around six years now," Namjoon says. "If we're careful, they'll never know."

Hoseok scoffs. "Mhm. Sure."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Seokjin tries again. "Lucky for us, we've been playing middle man since the game began. We don't have many enemies."

You raise your eyebrows in shock. What? "Wait—"

"We don't have many allies either, Boss," Taehyung points out. "We don't have anyone but ourselves."

"But—" you try again.

"Essentially, we can't trust anyone but ourselves," Namjoon clarifies. "And—"

"W-Wait! Just... Wait, please," you interrupt, your voice ringing painfully in the white void. "Someone said something about us not having many enemies?"

You've spoken out of turn, you can tell. Hoseok shoots you a look, Yoongi places a hand on top of yours and Namjoon raises his eyebrows. It's because you hadn't interrupted JK or Tae. Or Yoongi or Hoseok, your so-called "equals." You've interrupted the underboss and apparently, that's some sort of crime—a product of the hierarchy you wanted to avoid.

The awkward, uncomfortable silence commences. No one bothers to answer your desperate question.

"And," Namjoon continues, clearing his throat and doing away with the silence. "We must unite in times like this and become a family."

"I agree," Seokjin says. "We can only hope that we are united in this emerging crisis."

Everyone nods except for you.

"Meeting's dismissed," Seokjin says, standing up. He looks straight at you. "But I'd like to talk to you, Y/N. Please, stay."

Yoongi narrows his eyes. "For what?" he says.

Seokjin raises his eyebrows at Yoongi's defiant tone. "You may stay too if you wish," he finally says after a moment of silence.

No one looks back as they file out of the room, Jungkook closing the door as he steps out last. Seokjin stands, towering over you and Yoongi who are still sitting down.

"I understand you have frustrations, Y/N," Seokjin says.

"Yeah, well, frankly, I don't understand anything at all," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. "You don't have many enemies, but enemies are the only ones you have to check for his murder? What's taking so long? Are you trying to delay it? Don't you want to justify his death? I don't understand! Don't you want to know who killed him?"

Yoongi makes a move to hold your hand, trying to calm you down, but your breaths are ragged and you clench your other fist.

"Y/N," Seokjin soothes. "We're trying as hard as we can."

"Are you?!" you say. "You acted like this job was a piece of cake!"

"It's not as easy as it seems," Jin says.

"Well, I would've known that if you told me," you sigh. "I'm a Crescent too, you know. You don't have to hide anything from me!"

"We're afraid you won't like what's going on," Yoongi finally speaks. He squeezes your intertwined hands. "I—we don't want to scare you away from staying."

"I'll stay!" you say. "Where would I go if I left?"

It's a rhetorical question. No one answers.

"Y/N, you have to understand that we didn't know it was going to take this long, either. I know Jungkook and Taehyung might've said it would take a couple of weeks, but unfortunately, it's taking longer," Jin says. "It's out of our control at this point, Y/N. We can't force information out of everyone."

You stay silent.

"There will be another meeting dedicated to Jimin tomorrow," Seokjin says. "We'll talk about it more then. Is that okay with you?"

You ignore him, too lost in your thoughts that Yoongi has to shake you a bit. "Hey," he says. "You good?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm sorry," you mutter, standing up and taking your hand way from Yoongi. "I'd just like some time alone."

Seokjin and Yoongi watch you leave, neither making a move to stop you.

Once you're completely out of sight, Yoongi turns to Seokjin, slowly crossing his arms over his chest. "She's smart, you know. She's already suspicious... You can't argue with gut instinct, Boss. She's going to find out sooner or later."

The boss shakes his head smiling slightly before looking up at Yoongi. "She won't find out. Not unless you tell her."

The movies make everything seem so easy.

Living a life in the mob is not something you can switch on and off at your will. No, Hollywood screenwriters, being in the mafia is a lifestyle. It's not all guns and games and tuxes and wealth. It's about trusting no one but yourself—trusting anyone else could leave you vulnerable for anything.

I'm starting to feel heavily nostalgic about the times I played around with my friends when we were kids. We'd joke around, pretend to target each other, wear our best clothes and pretend we were undercover on a secret, high-level mafia mission. We thought the mafia would be fun.

I just think we forgot how dangerous it could be. Any of us could die at any moment because of one wrong step.

Well, when I'm killed—no, if I'm killed, I want it to be quick, torture-less. I know that's a lot to ask for, but if I had one wish in the world that could be granted, that would be it. I don't want to die by the hands of someone else. I try not to make enemies. I try to be careful. I try not to hurt anyone.

But what good is it in this world? There are strangers lurking around in the dark to kill you not because they have a personal vendetta against you but because you were a convenient target their sadistic selves could fuck around with.

There's nothing worse than being killed by someone you don't know for absolutely no reason. Because then, there is no apparent reason for your death. I wish I never have to kill anyone I don't know—if I will ever kill that is...

Seokjin says it's imminent. I wish it's not.

I don't know. I just want a reason for my death—if I even die here. This entry has gotten quite depressing. I think I'll have to call it a day and go to bed.

True to Seokjin's word, there is a meeting in the white room again the next day about Jimin's murderer.

The meeting starts with something Seokjin and Namjoon calls open discussion, which essentially lets anyone talk over each other. You and Yoongi don't have much to say as always, but Jungkook and Taehyung are being quite loud.

"Oh, if we find that sick fucking bastard, we're going to skin him so good he'll wish he's dead!" Taehyung snorts and Jungkook agrees, nodding his head. "Anyone who messes with our family gets the fucking hammer." Taehyung makes a squashing motion with his hand, grinning at Jungkook who supports his again by clapping his hands together.

"Or maybe we should do the things he did to Jimin to him," Jungkook suggests. "Eye for an eye. Toe for a toe. Life for a life."

"Genius!" Taehyung pipes up. "Fucking lovely."

You grimace at their graphic descriptions but stay quiet. It seems that everyone else is enjoying this talk of graphic torture and murder that will happen when the Crescents finally catch Jimin's murderer.

Finally, Seokjin silences all conversation by raising his hand. "We're closer than ever now," he says after clearing his throat. "We've narrowed it down to just a few gangs. Then we'll narrow it down to one person."

"But how do you know it's one person?" you challenge.

"Hours and hours of torture," Taehyung grins. "Don't worry, Y/N. We'll find that man and make sure the last few days of his life are fucking miserable."

You can't say that makes you feel any better.

"You look like you have something to say," Yoongi says, tucking a strand of your stray hair behind your ear as he cuddles you in bed. "Was it about the meeting today?"

You sigh. "Yeah... I don't know." You bury yourself in Yoongi's arms, seeking his warmth and comfort before pulling away and finally asking, "Don't you think something's just... off?"

Yoongi frowns. "About our relationship?"

"No," you say, shaking your head. "I meant about Jimin's death."

"Really?" Yoongi raises his eyebrows.

"It's just weird," you say slowly, choosing your words carefully. "We don't have many enemies. Jimin's never mentioned anyone specifically hating him... And if the enemies really do hate me and my brother for whatever reason, I just think they would've killed me already, you know? I don't know. Maybe mourning's getting to my head. Something just feels... off."

"Y/N..."

"I know, I know," you sigh. "Sometimes, I think this lifestyle isn't for me. I know I'm not doing anything remotely dangerous compared to what Jungkook and Taehyung are doing, but I'm just always living in constant fear and hatred and sadness and that feeling of vengeance... I mean, of course, you, Yoongi, you keep me grounded but... I don't know," you say. "This is going to sound crazy."

"It's okay. You can let it out," Yoongi says. "I won't judge."

"Well... I'm starting to think I'm being lied to. You know? Like Seokjin and Namjoon are lying to us all. I've just been thinking—because I have so much time to think these days—but what if the person who killed Jimin didn't even know him? What if the murderer was told to kill some random, innocent guy to be formally accepted in his own gang? It's like that stupid ritual thing you told me about! And I just can't help but think... what if Jimin had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Doesn't that make more sense? That's why it's taking them so fucking long to find the killer! Because there are so many gangs to check!"

You look toward Yoongi for some validation or any kind of reaction for that matter. But he merely sighs. "That's an interesting theory," he mutters.

"Yeah," you say. "If it's true, then that would mean I'm not even in danger because no one's looking to take my life... And I was dragged into all of this for no reason..." You shudder, looking at Yoongi expectantly for any sort of reaction.

He grunts, shifting his position in bed. "Let's not jump into conclusions, though," he says. Though you want to continue on with the subject, Yoongi seems like he wants you to drop it. And you guess you understand. You hadn't meant to attack and accuse his friends of being liars, but it might've come off like that when you were speaking. So you drop the matter and snuggle into Yoongi's warm arms.

You shouldn't be having doubts this far into the game. These people are your family.

You suspect Yoongi's been a bit pissed off at your accusation that Seokjin and Namjoon were lying to all of you because he's been kind of distant these days. You guess you deserve it. After all, you shouldn't have jumped into conclusions—especially conclusions as harsh as that. Besides, Jin and Joon would never lie to you. They're your family.

You'd just been desperate that day, looking for any scapegoat that you could get your hands on. But thinking about that theory now makes you realize how utterly crazy it is. You've dropped it completely. And since Yoongi's been having his 'me-time,' you suddenly have a lot of time leftover. So you've been using it to binge read your brother's diary.

It's all too soon when you're at his last, er first entry.

You recognize the first few lines because you'd read it before, months ago. You hadn't been able to continue on at that time, but now, you're ready. Your eyes carefully follow the lines of your brother's neat writing:

I can’t believe I’m in the mafia. I mean, I’ve thought about it for years, wondered what it would be like... if I’d even feel a difference. But I don’t. I feel the same. But this blood that courses through my veins... it doesn’t belong to me anymore. It belongs to us all. The Crescents. Beautiful name, isn’t it? Joon and I came up with it years ago and decided it was finally time to put it to use. It’s my dream come true, actually. Being in the mafia with the people I would die for. I’m ready for anything with these six people by my side.

There are so many stories I'll be able to tell in his diary, so many happenings and so many great news! I'm excited for what's in store for me in the future. This has always been my dream, and it's finally coming true! There are so many things to learn, of course, but that's not going to deter me.

God, I just can't wait until we're a few years into this. I know it's early to say this, but I can't wait to look back and laugh at my inexperience or lack of street knowledge. I can't wait to look back and see how much I've improved. (Can you even improve as a gang member?)

Anyways, the Crescents got away with their first grand mission just yesterday. We had to fake certificates, IDs, hire false witnesses and god, that all took so long, but we've accomplished it. We put Yoongi and Hoseok in medical jobs. They're probably the youngest practicing physicians in the country at this point. It's just step one of our elaborate plan to become millionaires!

Joon suggested that I faked my degree and whatnot too, but I didn't really want to be that involved... although the medical field has been an on and off interest of mine. I think I might go into bartending. The late-night gossip is the best around here.

Joon's already passed his LSAT—with a perfect score, of course, so he'll be a lawyer. Seokjin's planning on waiting to invest in a building to turn into his dream restaurant. JK's been training as a cop these days. Taehyung's wandering around lost, but he'll find a job to do.

I think it's perfect that we've all chosen to have side jobs to disguise our real careers. It's the best cover-up, really.

There's a lot to be excited about at this point. We're just starting out, so there's not much to do, so much to know, so much to see and try and have. We'll get everything as time progresses.

I'm mildly aware of the dangers that follow being in the mafia. But to that, I only have one thing to say: I never want any unnecessary violence. It's stupid and a small thing to ask for in such a violent community, but all of the Crescents have promised to solely base the gang off of the black market—nothing else. I think that's become my catchphrase, by the way. 'Unnecessary violence.' Everyone's starting to quote me on that. So maybe it'll become true.

So, here's to new beginnings, the Crescents, myself, my future... and Y/N (though she's strong and has probably already forgotten about me to chase after her career). Here's to unnecessary violence. May the new year and years beyond that bring peace and a shit ton of prosperity!

The moment you finish reading the last line, you have to turn away to wipe away the tears welling up in your eyes. The first entry is so light-hearted, so oblivious to the darkness of what's to come that it physically hurts.

You're just about to reread the entry again when there's a knock on your door. The knock is soft, delicate.

Yoongi?? Your heart leaps in your chest—you'd missed your boyfriend, after all.

"Y/N?"

Your face falls. That wasn't Yoongi's voice; it was Jungkook's.

"Yeah?" you call out. "Do you need me?"

"Yoongi's asking to see you," Jungkook says. "He wants me to tell you that he's in his room."

You frown. Yoongi was fully capable of coming to your room and telling you he wanted to see you himself. "Do you know what it's about?" Maybe it was dealing with business? But if it was dealing with business, it would've been in his best interest to meet in the white room and not his bedroom.

"He didn't say..." Jungkook says. "He sounded urgent, though."

"I'll be there in a minute," you call.

Jungkook mutters an "okay," and you hear him leave your doorway shortly after. You huff, stashing Jimin's diary away under your mattress before walking out your door and towards Yoongi's room. Maybe he was going to apologize for avoiding you? But you weren't even mad at him in the first place. Maybe he was calling you so you could apologize for accusing his friends? With Yoongi, anything and everything is a wild card.

You knock on his door, expecting truly nothing. You hear him croak, "Come in," so you do, opening the door and closing it behind you.

"Yoongi?" you say. The room is dark, the curtains are closed and a shadowy figure is sitting at the edge of the bed with his hands covering his face entirely. The room sinks your mood. "Hey..." you whisper, slowly approaching your boyfriend, "are you okay?"

"No," he says, refusing to look up at you. "I'm not."

You're a bit taken aback at the roughness of his voice, but you press on. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You're going to hate me."

"What?"

"Please," Yoongi pleads. "Don't hate me... I love you... Please don't think I never loved you."

His urgency brings chills down your spine as you frown. "What are you talking about?" you ask, fidgeting with the nervousness building up inside you. "Hey, look at me," you say, taking his hands in your own. They're surprisingly cold. "What's wrong?"

Yoongi looks up into your eyes so suddenly, you almost jump. He looks at you with such regret, misery, hurt, and he squeezes your hands before he speaks: "I lied to you. We all did."

—previous | next

—masterpost

—masterlist

#bts #bts fanfiction #ot7 #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #mafia au #over the moon #otm

31 notes · View notes

mikasocks · 4 years

Text

Dating Shoto Todoroki would include...

A/n : HI! hope you all enjoy my first post, much lovee Paring(s) : Shoto Todoroki x Reader Tyoe/Warning(s) : Mm swearing?

Synopsis: How would Shoto Todoroki act as you boyfriend?

Tbh todo was intrigued by you from day one, I mean you gave 110% to everything you did. don’t think the boy didn’t notice you.

He found you admirable, albeit a dummy when you worked so hard you looked like you’d puke.

Todo worried about you somtimes but from a distance of course.

It started with little glances, it almost became a tradition to just peak your way before and after class. I guess you could say he just wanted to check up on you.

Glances became longer until one day you noticed, the stoic boy who sat across the class was looking right at you.

>.>

<.<

Neither one of you tore away just staring at each other until the bell rang. A hot blush crawled up your neck.

wtf

After that you ran into the boy at the dorms, you and shoto both rounding the corner at the same time in the still of the night.

You walked straight into his chest, gripping at his shirt so you wouldn’t fall backwards. His hand placed on your shoulder to keep you steady.

looking up slowly you hoped it wasn’t bakugo who’d surely wake up everyone.

You looked up to see todoroki’s eyes on you

>.>

<.<

You both quickly let go of each other, as he straighten his shirt.

“I’m so so sorry todoroki-kun, I didn’t think anyone would be awake at this hour.”

“Why are you awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep, mm what about you?”

“Me too.”

You two spent the rest of the night talking/sitting in a comfortable silence under the moon until you began feeling sleepy.

You both returned to your rooms. Not without a small “sleep well.” From todoroki.

Todo wasn’t gonna lie, he definitely started to take a liking to you after that day. Not that he didn’t like you prior, you were just easy to be around now that you’ve shared a conversation.

He started walking you to class

The first day everyone was surprised to say the least, seeing you both walk into togther.

Walking each other to class slowly turned into training together, eating togther, studying togther, and anything else you would think of.

He was your person and you were his through it all

Todo never fully realized he had feelings for you until one day when you were both sparring without your quirks.

You punched him square in the jaw and he fell back looking up at your figure.

You looked gorgeous your hair was down to emulate a real fight and your forehead glistened from your sweat. You held your hand out to the boy.

You were strong with or without your quirk. He knew you could take care of yourself and that fact made you so very attractive in his eyes.

He fell literally and figuratively

“You getting up? Or should I put my hand down todo?”

Todoroki confessed on accident tbh ha..... ha

Of course you and todoroki would study togther for finals

You worked so hard trying to get a good mark, you left little time to eat or sleep. Once you set a goal there was no way you wouldn’t reach it.

You two usually studied in your dorm, you sprawled your stuff on your bed while todo sat on the floor his papers on the small table in the middle of the room.

Ngl you both always faced each other while you studied, It was an unspoken tradition.

little glances made your heart go kajskjakaia

Wow he’s so pretty

You honestly didn’t need his help to study and he didn’t need yours, you both just enjoyed the company.

One day you were feeling sick, you pulled an all nighter the day prior to study and do homework, only to do it the next day with todo.

Of course todoroki noticed he was observant with the ones he loved

Oo love

You looked pale and kept rubbing your temples

Todo sighed, standing up and gathering your papers before sitting on your bed next to you.

“Okay, time to take a break.”

“Mm Why?”

This boys sooo blunt

“Because I love you and hate that you aren’t taking care of yourself.”

0.0 <- u

-_- <- todoroki on the outside

0.0 <- todoroki on the inside

You guys stare at each other for awhile

Todo thinks he fucked up big time.. damn poor boy, he really didn’t mean to just confess like that but ig there’s no going back now.

“Do you just love you me or are you in love with me?”

Gulp..

“I’m in love you with Y/n, I’ve always been.”

“I love you too shoto.”

“Oh.”

Baby doesn’t know how what to say ha.... ha.. yikes

For your first date todo so nervous, he wants it to be perfect. To him you deserve it.

He even searched up cute date ideas, pick up lines, and how to ask a girl out.

What a cute loser

Todo ends ups setting up a beautiful picnic by a quite River, it’s just you and him. A blanket sprawled under a tree and soba for two.

It really was prefect. You shared your first kiss under that tree and even collected a cute rock that you still have lying on display in your room.

“Can we kiss again?”

Thus began your relationship with icy hot

Touching is unlike todo at first tbh, he doenst really initiate skinship very often so you usually have to.

But once he gets comfy, he really is all over you.

When shoto gets clingy and you’re not paying attention to him, all he does is tap your leg repeatedly and look up at you until you start loving on him.

Shotos hands are a bigger than yours so somtimes when you two are lying in bed, he’s just playing with your fingers and wrapping them around his own absentmindedly.

He likes hugging you from behind and putting his head on top of yours or on your shoulder.

Best know shoto loves when you wrap your arms around his neck when you hug. He loves just being fully engulfed by you. Somtimes he picks you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist and he’ll just carry you to bed for cuddles.

Shoto switches between big and little spoon

He really like being little spoon though, hearing your heart and knowing that it belongs him.

The boys a little possessive. Growing up, nothing was ever just his.

But here you are, all his.

Sometimes he mumbles in his sleep and it’s super duper cute but never coherent enough to make fun of him for anything he says.

Other times when he has nightmares he’ll wake up to your sleeping body pushed up against his side. He’ll sigh grateful that you’re next to him, awake or not just looking at you comforts his heart. Todo will then pepper kisses along your collarbone and hold you close.

If he wakes you up ?

Oops. But not really. He’d feel bad obviously, but honestly in that moment of fear all he wants is for you to hold him and tell him everything will be okay.

And that’s exactly what you’d do?

“It’s okay, it was just a nightmare sho.. I’m here. I got you.”

At first he thought cuddling was weird, like holding somone while they sleep? the slight chance of rolling onto them and suffocating them ? Yeah no.

He needs you alive.

But slowly you forced him to cuddle and now he loves it.

Forehead kisses are a must

His favorite place to kiss you is your cheek

And his favorite places to be kissed are his is jaw/shoulder

His mom loves you to bits, you’re so good for shoto and she sees that.

Endeavor.. well.. he doesn’t mind you, scratch that he doenst mind your impressive quirk. In all honestly though he’d rather you stay away, you’re a distraction. Fucking asshat

No.. but actually he’s a fucking asshat

Anyways..

You’re parent(s)? (Guardian(s)/silbing(s)) love shoto, he’s so quite and nervous at first so they didn’t really have an opinion tbh. Until they see how well he treats you and how happy you are. Overall their love for shoto is endless, it’s gonna take a lot to mess that up.

Sometimes when shoto is feeling down about anything or his father, you two just lay togther. His head on you chest while you massage his scalp, his arm wrapped around your waist slightly under your shirt.

When you’re upset, shoto sits with his back against leaning against whatever is convenient. You curl up in his lap, and he’ll pat your head and kiss away your tears.

You two don’t really like talking when you’re hurting. A comfortable silence always lifts your spirts and if you wanna talk about it later? of course he’s ready to listen. Always.

You two almost never fight

There’s no reason to fight in todoroki’s eyes. He’s had enough fighting. He doesn’t like yelling at you ever.

If you two end up in a disagreement, you both talk through it calmly.

If you do fight though, hes quick to apologize. He hates anything that reminds him of his father. The yelling. the screaming.

Just know if you cry, he cries. He can’t stand stand seeing his baby hurting. Especially if he’s the cause.

“Hey hey baby I’m so sorry, it’s okay, we’re okay. We’ll figure this out, I love you y/n please forgive me.”

Jealous todo? so hot (but actually)

One time mineta tried to lift your skirt, in front of todo. (Before anyone knew you were togther) bro.... I mean shoto was fuming, like actually smoking.

“Mineta.” He would grab mineta shirt and slowly pull him close, honestly the most aggressive you’ve ever seen him.

Good thing there was only midoriya and Iida in the classroom

“You got some nerve touching my girlfriend like that mineta. Don’t ever pill that shit again understand?”

A quick nod sends the small boy flying out of your boyfriends hand

There’s a ashy hole in mineta shirt now. oops.

Midoriya and lida are this 0.0 until they hear girlfriend, then their like this “??”

You grab shotos shoulder gently

“I’m okay sho.”

Shoto lets go and minetas gone. no where to be seen the rest of the day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey don’t apologize, I know you always got me and I always got you.”

You tiptoe to kiss his nose and hug him completely forgetting the two boys standing in the corner

lida and midoriya are just •o•

PETNAMES??

Shoto calls you..

Baby :) RARLEYYY. he honestly doesn’t get it, but after you call him that a couple times he starts to think it’s kinda sexy.

Sweetie :) he thinks it’s cute and simple. Only in private when he’s super cuddly.

Y/n, l/n, n/n :) he’s a simple guy, he loves your name as it is.

What you call shoto..

Baby/bub :)

Cutie :) look at him I’ll wait

Sho, todo, Todoroki, shoto

Honestly your relationship with shoto is super pure and wholesome. You guys go through loads togther. You’re each other’s person and he loves you so much. Love straight out of a book :)

Fluffy extra :

Shit todoroki asks to you

“Did you eat today?”

“Can you play with my hair?”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Do you want some soba baby?”

“How’d I get so lucky?”

“Are you cold?”

“Is it too hot?”

“Do you need a hug?”

#my hero academia #todoroki shouto #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha todoroki #headcanon #bnha x reader #shoto x reader #katsuki bakugo headcanons #my hero acadamy #anime #mha dabi #imagines #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha shoto todoroki #bakugou katsuki

37 notes · View notes

voltronfandomhag · 4 years

Note

"Or we that we hate most of the male GoLion pilots because they were 20 something year-old men who spent about half the series ogling a teenage girl." Can you explain this?

In GoLion all the male pilots had a crush on Princess Fala (Allura) to varying degrees. I’m going to show you a few examples to get my point across.

There’s a scene in “Introducing Beautiful Honerva” where Fala dashes straight to castle control from her bath, clad only in a bath towel, to answer Raible’s (Coran’s) summons.

The male pilots all blatantly ogle her:

The rest of this is going behind a cut because of all the images. Also, there’s going to be some discourse and salt. So if you want to avoid that, consider yourself warned.

There’s a scene in “Friday the 13th” where the team is swimming in the lake surrounding the castle. Fala wears a tiny pink bikini.

Here is Kurogane and Seido’s (Lance and Hunk’s) reaction to the sight:

In “Altea’s Sister Planet” there’s a scene where Fala lets her pet mouse Platt climb into her flight suit to escape the cold.

Kurogane’s reaction:

In “The Prince Imperial’s Dark Love” Raible and the male pilots are rowing a boat around the lake while Fala waves to her people gathered around the shore. Kurogane asks Raible why they’re doing this:

All the pilot pilots dive into the water and race to pick Fala flowers in hopes of receiving a kiss.

All the male pilots also had crushes on Allura in Voltron. I also feel it’s important to note that in both shows these crushes largely fade into the background as the story progresses. However there are a few key differences between how this plays out in GoLion vs Voltron:

1) While Kogane (Keith) is also attracted to Fala, nothing becomes of it, with Kogane becoming more akin to a mentor/big brother figure to Fala. In Voltron this attraction eventually develops into a budding romance between Keith and Allura.

2) Allura’s age is never stated in Voltron. The narrative, however, treats her as around the same age as the grown male pilots. Also, changes to the time-line in Voltron vs GoLion suggest she could very likely be a few years older than Fala. Most people in the fandom headcanoned her as being around 18 to early 20s.

3)GoLion states Fala is 16 years-old. We’re never given ages for the male pilots but fans generally assume that they’re around 20-24 years-old, with the obvious exception of Suzuishi (Pidge).

Now, this is where we get to discussion of how some of the self-identified anti-fans who actually watched GoLion handled this and the double standards involved. Most of them did, to some degree, acknowledge that supposedly 20-something year-old dudes wanting to romance a 16 year-old was problematic. This stuff was one of the reasons many of them condemned Kallura, including VLD Kallura, as problematic trash. Never mind Keith and Allura are both teenagers in VLD; never mind they’re likely both adults in DoTU; never mind both of them are undeniably adults in Voltron Force and V3D. All versions of the pairing must be hated because of the GoLion dynamic.

However, many antis really liked Kogane, Kurogane, and Seido! They liked those characters in other Voltron retellings too, especially VLD (until they turned on the show, anyway)! You could argue that since all these characters were teenagers in VLD, it wouldn’t make sense to hate them because of what happened in GoLion. But remember, according to them we’re supposed to hate Kallura because of the age difference in GoLion. Also, according to their logic regarding Lotor, we can’t separate a character from their past incarnations.

This refusal to apply the same logic and standards to all the characters led to this weird state of acknowledging GoLion’s problematic aspects while at the same time shifting blame or downplaying them when convenient. I once saw a post from anti-fan blaming Kurogane’s behavior towards Fala on the writers, for example. Like, I don’t know how to tell you this, but none of these characters have any agency of their own. Literally everything they do is because a writer had them do it. Then these fans would talk about how glad they were the guys (or the writers) “learned better.”

There were also a lot of post from these people calling the grown male GoLion pilots “space dads” and Fala their adopted daughter. Ugh, yeah, it’s very obvious they didn’t see Fala as a daughter figure. Now, you could argue they eventually came to see her as a sister figure. Like I said, their crushes on her gradually faded away about halfway into the story. But why would people in their early 20s see a 16 year-old as a daughter to them?! lol

But, of course, these types of fans are always going to find reasons why the characters and ships like are okay even when, by their logic, they should be condemned as problematic trash. Meanwhile, characters and ships they don’t like will somehow, always, because be garbage no one should ever touch. So naturally they’re not going to apply a consist logic to everything or else their arguments would fall apart.

#ask #anon #discourse #salt

13 notes · View notes

geniuslab · 5 years

Text

Dirty Laundry (M)

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader

→ Genre: Smut with a lil fluff

→ Word Count: 5k

→ Summary: Doing your laundry isn’t exactly fun, but when you run into a hot stranger at your local laundromat, you decide it isn’t half bad.

→ What to Expect: oral sex (receiving), fingering, a little bit of public indecency, questionable laundromat conduct, a plot if you squint a little and turn your head

You learned your lesson on the very first day at the laundromat. You’d put your clothing in the washer, and not wanting to sit there and wait, you’d left to run a couple quick errands before returning to put your clothes in the dryer. But when you got back inside, bags slung over your arms, you saw a pile of clothing crumpled on top of the counter. Your familiar soft pink cardigan poking out on top let you know the hideous wadded up pile belonged to you.

“Oh come on,” you huffed under your breath and set your bags down next to your clothes on the counter. You inspected your clothing, including your pillow cases which were now resting on the dirty counter. You weren’t the biggest germaphobe in the world, but the multiple stains on the counter were enough to make you want to rewash. You let out a massive sigh as you plucked up your laundry and looked for an open washer, eyes scanning the laundromat.

“You’re not gonna find an open one at this hour,” a voice said from beside you, and you jumped a little and looked to your left.

A man around your age was sitting up on the counter as if he’d been there the entire time, but he definitely had not been there before. Among the stainless steel of the laundromat, his pink hair was a surprising splash of color that pulled you forward unconsciously. It was as if he was the only alive thing in the laundromat, despite it being packed.

“You must be new to this,” he said.

You thought about lying, not wanting to admit that you were a complete amateur, but your crumpled up clothing betrayed any lie you could’ve told.

A smile crept onto his face, and if he didn’t look soft before with his pink hair, the fact that his eyes crinkled shut with his smile made him positively adorable.

“First rule is to never leave your laundry unattended.”

You tried not to roll your eyes and turned away from him. “Thanks, I think I learned that one already.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him throw his hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to help.”

You groaned and leaned against the counter. It was dinnertime, and the last thing you wanted to do was spend the next hour at the laundromat. Especially considering the traitor who’d thrown your clothing out of the washer was only a few feet away and kept throwing glances at you as if you were the stupidest person on earth.

“My clothing’s almost done, you can use the washer after me,” the pink haired guy said rather gently, and you peeked at him and let out the tension in your muscles that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto.

“Thanks,” you replied sheepishly, and you saw him throw you a smile before he leapt down from the counter and opened the washer.

You followed him with your laundry so you could load it in before someone else grabbed it. It was as if everyone came in from work to do their laundry, which you supposed was exactly what you’d done.

Once you poured in the detergent and started the machine, you turned around and saw the man sitting back up on the counter facing the driers. Since you knew you couldn’t leave without risking your clothes being taken out for a second time, you jumped up on the counter next to the man but faced the other direction.

“Are you new here?” the man asked you, and you turned a little so you could look at him. The counter wasn’t very large, so the two of you were practically sitting right next to each other even though you weren’t facing the same way. He was fussing with a bag of chips, his hands seemed to be too damp from moving his clothes that he couldn’t get a good enough grip to open them.

“Yeah, I just moved here,” you replied and reached for the bag of chips. He let go of them without resisting, and watched you open them and hand them back to him.

The man nodded, although you weren’t sure if it was in response to what you’d said or because you’d opened the chips for him. He popped one into his mouth and turned the bag to you, offering you some.

Your stomach growled, having still not eaten dinner. You pulled one out and nearly moaned when the salt hit your tongue.

“My best advice is never come after work unless you have to,” he said, his eyes twinkling in amusement at your reaction to the chips.

“Then why are you here?” you asked and grabbed another chip since he hadn’t moved the bag.

“I had to.”

“What, gotta wash the blood out of your clothing from your last murder or something?” you asked, and when you didn’t get a response you looked up from the bag of chips. He was looking at you seriously, and you gulped.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend—”

He broke out into laughter, his eyes crinkling closed and his whole body shaking.

“I like you,” he said between his laughter.

“I like you too, as long as you’re not a murderer,” you said with a small chuckle. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve met here so far.”

“I’m not a murderer, I was traveling for work before this and I couldn’t go another day with dirty laundry.” You watched as he popped another chip into his mouth before his brows furrowed. “Hey wait, I’m the only person you’ve met here so far.”

“Exactly.” You smiled at his offended expression, his mouth hanging open. You hated the fact that you paid more attention to his plump lips than you should’ve. You cleared your throat and looked away. “Well, you and the person who took my washer. But it’s hard not to beat that.”

“I’m Jimin, the most interesting person you will ever meet here.” He locked eyes with you as he emphasized his words and you bit your lip.

“I’m Y/N, and you’ll have to prove that to me, I guess,” you replied, the words slipping out almost seductively before you even realized it. The laundromat wasn’t the quietest place in the world, what with all the machines running, but those words practically dripped from your mouth and you blushed at the implication. You grabbed another chip to busy yourself with something so that he wouldn’t notice your blush and the fact that, despite only knowing him for several minutes, you were incredibly attracted to him.

“I guess I will,” he replied, and you nearly choked at the matched seduction in his voice. While his voice had been soft before, his most recent words were rough, brushing over your skin and leaving goosebumps.

Just when you thought your entire face must be red, you looked down at your ringing phone appreciatively.

“I can watch your clothes,” Jimin said. You nodded thanks and picked up the phone, stepping outside into the cool air to help stop your blush. If every visit to the laundromat was going to be like this, you were going to have to start bringing a fan.

“Come during the day or the middle of the night, although I wouldn’t really recommend a pretty girl like you coming here at night alone,” Jimin had told you later that day.

“When do you come?” you asked, praying your blush wouldn’t come back, especially at his words.

“I’m usually here on Thursday afternoons and random nights when I can be bothered.” You nodded your head at this information, but stored it away. And so, you found yourself conveniently needing to do laundry the following Thursday. Your work was flexible, and you left midday to grab lunch and swing by the laundromat to wash some items of clothing that you’d practically dug for in the morning so you’d have something to bring even though you’d just washed all of your stuff a few days before.

You weren’t sure if he’d be there considering it hadn’t been that long, but a smile came onto your face as you opened the door and saw pink hair across the room.

“Back already?” he asked across the laundromat. It wasn’t a very big business, so it only took you a few seconds to let the door swing shut behind you and walk up to him.

“I’ve got a lot to wash,” you replied with a shrug and put your bag down. He looked you up and down with a smirk and you busied yourself with taking your clothing out.

You were not at the laundromat washing your clothes again just so you could see a guy. But the way his eyes scanned you made your skin tingle just like his words the other day had, and you bit your lip again and sorted your laundry. Okay, so maybe you were here to see him again. But it didn’t mean anything, and you might as well make sure your clothes are clean, right? Besides, you were going to have to wash your clothes weekly, so why not wash them on a day you knew someone cute would be there?

This is how you justified making Thursdays your laundry day, and it became routine to go at the same time so you could see Jimin. Every week, you would hop up onto the counter next to him and talk. He almost always had a snack, but you’d started bringing some as well, and the two of you would sit cross legged on the counter and share snacks and stories.

“What do you mean you went on tour with one of the country’s most popular artists?” you asked one day, nearly choking on your food just like the first time you’d met him.

He shrugged and smirked. “I’m a dancer, I got hired to backup for their world tour.”

Your jaw dropped and then you snapped it shut. “Wow, you’re trying really hard to prove me wrong about that whole interesting thing, aren’t you?”

“This isn’t even the beginning,” he said and winked at you.

You hid your blush by tipping your head down so your hair would cover your face.

“What do you do?” he asked you, and you were grateful for the change in topic.

“I’m a video game developer,” you replied, and his eyes got wide.

“No shit, working on anything I’d know of?”

“Probably not,” you laughed. “I work at a small indie company at the moment, but I’m hoping to work my way up in the industry.”

“Don’t forget me when you’re famous,” he said and grabbed your chips out of your lap.

“That’s funny coming from the guy who went on a world tour.”

“What can I say, I’m pretty amazing.”

You rolled your eyes and stole the chips back from him, pouring the remnants into your mouth. He watched as you did this, and you saw his tongue slip out and lick his bottom lip. You lowered the bag and looked at him silently, certain you were blushing outright.

You’d hoped that the way his gaze made your heart skip a beat was just fleeting, something that happened just because he was cute and new and exciting. But as the weeks went by, and you two became genuine friends, the sexual tension between you two only increased. It was always small moments, like him brushing up against you when he’d reach for his laundry, or the way his eyes would travel up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking, or his finger brushing crumbs away from the corner of your lip as the two of you snacked. It felt as if something were going to happen, but the time was never right. Too many people were there, the buzzer would go off signaling that your laundry was done, your roommate called saying that she’d set the fire alarm off and the whole building was evacuated and she was in a lot of trouble and can you please come home now and talk to the landlord before he kicked both of you out?

It was for this very reason that you hadn’t asked him to hang out outside of the laundromat, not because you didn’t want to see him, but because you knew the second you were alone with him that something would happen. And you wanted it to, almost desperately so, which was exactly why you didn’t see him alone. The way you wanted him was so primal and deliciously tempting that it almost scared you. You liked control, but somehow you knew you’d lose all of that once he had his hands on you.

Not to mention, a man distracting you was the last thing you needed while you worked on your new work project. Things were increasingly coming together on the game you’d been working on, and you didn’t need anything pulling you away from that. Unfortunately, your mind tended to wander despite your wishes against it. Even small things reminded you of him, and before you knew it your legs would be crossed and you’d be biting your lip. Thoughts of Jimin, and what he could do to you and what you could do to him, entered your mind far more than you cared to admit.

“You okay?” your coworker asked one day, and you blinked up from your computer screen and looked at him. You’d been working on more sketches of the main character, but you’d gotten lost in his lips, realizing that they were almost exactly like Jimin’s. The pen in your hand hadn’t moved for the past several minutes as you pondered this.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied. The deadline for your proposal was fast approaching, and getting lost in a replica of the hot laundromat guys’ lips wasn’t on the agenda. You cleared your throat and got back to work, but throughout the rest of the day it kept nagging you that maybe resisting Jimin wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps giving in was exactly what you needed.

“So ummm, please don’t get mad at me,” your roommate, Yerim, said.

“What happened?” you asked. You were curled up on the couch with a glass of wine watching a movie to de-stress, but the second you saw Yerim standing in front of you with your dress, your eyes went wide and you set down your glass.

“I wore this out a few nights ago, and I kinda got a drink spilled on me,” she said sheepishly.

“Yerim, that’s the dress I’m wearing to my presentation at work tomorrow!” you practically screeched and jumped up. You grabbed the dress from her hands and looked at the damage. All down the front of the gray dress was a red stain.

“Why wouldn’t you have told me sooner?” you asked. “Actually, why did you wear this out in the first place?”

“You said I could always borrow your clothes! And I didn’t have any clean dresses, and I was going on a nice date with this new guy and I thought I’d look put together in something of yours. I didn’t know how to tell you after it happened.”

She was pouting, which softened your anger a little bit, but you stood there speechless holding onto the only dress you owned that was professional enough for a formal presentation. You weren’t just hanging around at work sketching tomorrow, you were presenting your new game to a massive company.

“I have to wear this tomorrow,” you groaned.

“You could wear one of my dresses instead?”

You knew your roommate’s wardrobe, and her short party dresses weren’t going to cut it.

“I’ve gotta go see if I can wash this out,” you said and fumbled for your phone. It was already past midnight, and you’d always followed Jimin’s advice to not go to the laundromat alone at night. You shot him a quick text and he replied in a matter of moments.

Yeah, I’ve got some laundry I can do. See you there.

“I’m really sorry!” Yerim yelled as you shut the door behind you and practically ran down the block. You were only in your t-shirt and shorts, having barely had enough time to throw on some sneakers before you’d flown out of your apartment. But thankfully it wasn’t very far, and no one was out to witness the girl wildly running down the sidewalk in pajamas with a dress in her hands.

Jimin was already at the laundromat when you arrived, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you realized he was the only one there.

“Clothing emergency?” he asked, and you held up the dress in front of you so he could see it. “Is that what you said you’re wearing to your presentation tomorrow?”

You just nodded.

“Yikes, okay let’s see what we can do about this.”

He had all the laundry essentials, and he went to work on spraying it and scrubbing as you watched, horrified, at the red stain that surely would not come out.

“Thankfully, I have some experience getting red out of clothing,” he said, and then looked up at you with a smile. “You’re not laughing, that was supposed to be a joke.”

“I’m just really stressed out right now,” you blurted out.

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. I’ll get the stain out, we’ll wash your dress, and you’ll be able to give your presentation.”

You nodded your head silently and watched him scrub, and miraculously the stain got lighter and lighter. By the time he was done scrubbing, there was only a faint stain on the dress. You could feel a little bit of your anxiety slip away and let out a sigh of relief.

“Time to wash it now, and if it’s still not out then I’ll give it another scrub.” He put your dress in the washer and then tugged on your hand so you’d jump up onto the counter with him. You hopped up and went to pull your hand away, but he didn’t let go. You watched as he traced patterns into your skin, the familiar tingling sensation you often got when you were around him returning.

“You’re gonna have to wait a while for that to finish, so just try to relax.”

“You realizing telling someone who’s stressed out to relax is the opposite of helpful, right?” you said. Your heart rate was picking up, although you weren’t sure if it was from worrying over your dress and the presentation tomorrow, or the fact that he was pulling your hand, and effectively you, closer to him on the counter.

“What if I can distract you and help relieve some of your stress?” he asked, and when he looked up at you between his lashes you felt a bolt of fire shoot straight through you down to your core.

“What kind of distraction?” you asked, but you knew exactly what he meant. He pulled you closer, his hand now inching up your arm slowly. You swallowed hard but didn’t pull away. You’d been fighting thoughts of Jimin for weeks now, and you didn’t want to any longer.

“You seem to be really stressed whenever you see me,” he said. “Like a tightly wound coil about to spring free.”

“It’s just work,” you said, but both of you knew it wasn’t true. His fingers danced along the sensitive skin on your arm and made you shiver.

“I’m not the only one who feels this, am I?” he asked, and when he looked up at you from beneath his eyelashes, you lost your breath. “Is it just me who wants this so badly?”

You couldn’t find the words to respond right away, but when you did they fell out of your mouth. “I want you so fucking much.”

“Good.” His hand moved up from your arm and wound around your neck to gently pull you closer. “I told you I would be the most interesting person you ever met here, didn’t I?” he asked, and you nodded and let your eyes flutter shut as he leaned in.

You felt his breath on your lips, and you leaned forward until you could feel his against yours. But he didn’t lean in closer, just stayed there, his lips just a faint impression against yours.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked, and you could feel him chuckle against your lips.

“I’m waiting for you to answer.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward, but he pulled back and looked you in the eyes, waiting.

“Fine, you did and you were right,” you huffed and leaned forward even more. “Now give me what I’ve been waiting for.” Finally, he leaned into you and pressed his lips against yours. Resisting him in the past had been so, so wrong. You tried to stifle the moan that crept its way up, but his lips were so soft and his hand on your waist was much too delightfully sinful for you to keep quiet.

Your kissing grew feverish, no amount satisfying you enough. He felt you pushing up against him harder, heard your ragged breaths in between kisses and noticed your desperate hands gripping his shirt harder and harder. While his tongue pressed against yours, he gently pushed you backwards until you were lying down on the counter.

You may have imagined lying underneath Jimin before, but you’d never imagined doing it in the laundromat. This didn’t stop you, however, from lifting your knees and trapping Jimin against you, or your hips from slowly rocking against his.

He moaned into your mouth at the sensation. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting this from the moment I saw you.”

“Me too,” you confessed, your voice breathless. The friction was nothing short of bliss, and you picked up your pace against him and his growing erection to help satiate the throbbing between your legs. When you pulled apart for air, you realized something.

“What if someone sees?” you asked, your worry cutting through the cloud of your arousal.

“All the windows are covered,” he said and kissed your neck, causing your hips to jerk up into him.

“But what if someone walks in?”

He chuckled, his laugh reverberating against the soft spot between your neck and your collarbone. “That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

Jimin ground harder into you, and your fingers tangled in his hair as both of you devoured each other, no amount of kisses or friction enough. You wrapped a leg around his waist and sighed into his mouth at the closer contact.

“Looks like your dress isn’t the only dirty thing here,” Jimin said, and you gently bit his bottom lip in response.

“You don’t like my jokes?” he asked and pulled backwards, the devilish glint in his eyes suggesting that he knew no matter what joke he made, you were putty beneath him.

“Please just don’t stop,” you whimpered and grabbed at his shirt to pull him back down towards you.

“I won’t, princess,” he promised, and the combination of the pet name paired with him playing with the waistband of your shorts ripped a moan out of you. He toyed with your shorts for a few moments, savoring each time your eyes squeezed shut when you felt his skin brush against yours. Then he slowly pulled your shorts down your legs, inching down with them. Once they were off, he planted kisses up your legs, and you used everything in your power to keep your legs from shaking when he got to your thighs. Your fingers were knotted in his hair as he sucked on your skin, leaving a hickey that you were both infuriated and aroused by.

“Did I say you could mark me?” you asked. You’d hoped to sound stern, but the sight of such a gorgeous man between your legs, and the feeling of his hands on your thighs, made your voice come out in a squeak.

“As if you weren’t going to beg for it anyway,” he replied and sucked on the sensitive skin of your thigh again. You wanted to object, but you could only moan and grip his hair harder.

He began roaming up higher, his breath fanning over your underwear and what lay beneath. Just the heat of him had you squirming, and before you could stop yourself a series of requests spilled from your mouth. You wanted him all over you, on you, inside of you.

“I knew you’d be a beggar,” he said teasingly, but you didn’t even care that he was right, you just needed him.

When you felt his hot breath between your legs you whimpered but kept yourself still, every atom in you buzzing at how close he was to what you needed, what you craved so badly.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmured and then finally gave you what you so desperately wanted. Nothing could have prepared you for the flood of pleasure that rushed through your body when he pushed your underwear to the side and let his tongue finally touch your throbbing center. Your legs were shaking now as he wrapped his tongue around your clit, pushing against it and licking it.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged again, even though you knew he had no intentions of stopping.

He moaned against you and you felt his hand on your thigh inch higher, and then his fingers were inside of you, pumping in and out slowly.

“Oh my god,” you cried. Your thoughts were all muddled, his name spilling out of your lips in broken whimpers. It felt like your entire body was about to crumble every time he thrust his fingers up into you. Your orgasm was building, stealing your breath away as you got closer to tipping over the edge. You were torn between wanting to thrust up into him and pull away, the sensation of him in and on you too much and yet not enough.

He could sense you were close, and you could feel him smile against you, no doubt smirking at how weak you were under his touch.

“Can you cum for me, princess?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. His pace became relentless, and you soon fell apart against his fingers. No sound came from your mouth, you were absolutely breathless for the several seconds of pure bliss that rocked through your body.

Jimin didn’t pull away until you were gasping for air again, and when he did he planted a kiss on your inner thigh and then let your underwear fall back into place before he hopped off of the table. Neither of you had to share a single word to express how good that was, it was clear in his cocky expression and your flushed cheeks.

You’d barely sat upright on the table when you heard the bell for the door ring, and a cranky looking man walked in, looked both of you up and down, and grumbled under his breath before he started loading his laundry. Your heart was going a mile a minute, but you were wearing an oversized t-shirt, and Jimin had quickly pulled apart from you and kicked your shorts under the table before the man had walked in. All it would look like was two people hanging out while waiting for their laundry to be done. At least that’s what you hoped the man thought, because you sure as hell didn’t want him knowing you’d just gotten eaten out on the very table he’d just placed his basket down on the end of.

Jimin cleared his throat and pointed at the machine. “The cycle should be done soon.” His cheeks were a bit pink now too, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stop a giggle from slipping out.

The old man grumbled something again about “youth these days” and left, apparently unconcerned about his laundry being taken in the middle of the night. As soon as the door swung shut you broke out into laughter and Jimin did too. He came up close to you and pulled you to the edge of the table, and you wrapped your legs around him. Your stomach flipped when you realized how natural it felt having him there in front of you, between your legs with his arms around you.

“When can I return the favor?” you asked. You didn’t know how he’d concealed his boner from the stranger, because the bulge in his pants was incredibly obvious. His lips were swollen and even more pink and plump than normal, and you smoothed his hair down that you’d previously been clutching.

“Unfortunately not anytime soon, considering that man already thinks we’re up to something,” he sighed.

“How about you come back to my place after my dress is done?” you asked before you even thought it through. You rarely brought men home, mostly because your roommate would badger you about it for weeks afterward. But you didn’t want things to end here, tonight, in this dingy laundromat. What you’d had wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. Maybe you were selfish, but you wanted so much more of him. Not just physically, either.

“Don’t you have a presentation to give tomorrow?” he asked, but the glint in his eyes and the smile creeping at the edge of his lips betrayed his concern.

“I’m starting to think you were right, you’re a very good stress reliever,” you replied.

“Well then it would almost be criminal for me to not help you out,” he said. “You know, since you’re so stressed about the presentation.”

“Exactly.” You smiled and pulled him even closer to you.

“Although I’m not gonna lie, I wonder what it would feel like to have you pressed up against the dryer when it’s on,” he said, and you swatted your hand against his chest.

“I’ll have to get my own washer and dryer for you to experience that.” You looked pointedly at the washing machine that was cleaning the stranger’s clothes. It had already been a close call, and you weren’t trying that one again.

“I’d be more than happy to help you install them,” Jimin said. “In fact, maybe then I can start doing my laundry at yours.”

“That’s not part of the deal. My washer, my laundry.”

“Then we’ll start with your sheets,” he quipped. “You’ll probably want to wash those after we’re done.”

You groaned at his comment and buried your face in his chest, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about all the things you’d be doing on those very sheets with the handsome man in front of you. Who knew doing laundry could be so fun?

[masterlist link will be added later! search ‘my fic’ or ‘masterlist’]

718 notes · View notes

cravingcrazewriting · 4 years

Text

Reinvent Yourself {Treebros}

(Sorry about the error in the first one! It won’t let me edit it at the moment)

Being a shapeshifter was convenient for a number of reasons.

Evan could pretend to be anyone but himself, well, as long as he didn't strain himself too hard (that was never fun). He could completely redesign his body and alter the features he hated so much.

Even if he'd grown up in the confides of a government lab, and he didn't exactly get a childhood, he deserved to have a little fun, damn it, and explore the world he barely knew. He was finally free, and could do whatever he wanted.

Well, nothing illegal, obviously. He also had to keep an eye out for any government agents looking for him. But that was besides the point.

After flashing an ID at the bouncer, he stepped inside the bar and immediately was met with quite possibly the most beautiful person there.

They had a long, well built figure, with oak brown hair that poured down to their shoulders. Around their waist was a leather jacket, and they were wearing a black tank top, accompanied with multiple rings on long fingers, and ripped jeans to tie the whole outfit together.

Immediately, Evan turned on his heel and ran out and into an alleyway. He had to impress the beautiful stranger, and well, he couldn't, being his actual, boring self. His boring, actual self, who had sandy blonde hair, green eyes and the right mixed with red, soft skin, a snake tattoo on his upper back, little to no muscle whatsoever, and sort of plump build.

Throwing off a drawstring bag he previously had around his shoulders, he quickly stripped naked so his clothes wouldn't rip. Once this was done, he shut his eyes, and tried to imagine himself changing into a more attractive person.

He imagined curly, brown hair, a large physique, skinny waist, and a sharp jawline. Yeah, that'd do. He could change into the opposite sex, but most times he preferred using a male form, but couldn't do an animal, but everything else was fair game.

Bones began to unhinge and rearrange, as muscles started to expand, as his size grew, hair curled to his will, his vocal cords deepened, as his body made snapping and twisting sounds (it was never pleasant to do, let alone listen to).

When he opened his eyes, he was an entirely different person. On the outside, at least, but he could fake it till he made it, he supposed. It would work for the time being, until he didn't have to pretend anymore.

He doubted that'd be anytime soon, though, but that was beside the point.

Evan pulled out his ID again and looked directly at it. What was special about it was that it scanned all of his new facial features, and printed it onto the photo, adding on other specifics, like his height and stuff.

He strode over to the bouncer with confidence in his step, after putting a different set of clothes on, showed him the new ID, and went inside to find the beautiful stranger.

The Beautiful Stranger was sitting on a stool, on their phone, and a class of water sitting in front of them. They moved a hand downwards, and moved the sleeve of their leather jacket, before grabbing the water and taking a sip.

Evan decided to take the initiative, slowly sitting next to them, sparing a glance at their features.

They were a lot stronger than Evan anticipated. While they didn't have a body builder physic, the discarded jacket left a full view of two defined and broad biceps that this person could use to easily pin Evan against a wall or something because he just wasn't that strong of a guy. Sure, he could make himself strong, but it wore him out faster.

He wanted to speak to Beautiful Stranger, but the bartender already came over, and was asking him what he wanted to drink.

"Just some water, please," Evan didn't put any thought into the order, he just wanted the bartender to leave him alone. He spared a glance at Beautiful Stranger, wanting to initiate a conversation somehow.

Maybe a compliment would do? He wouldn't know, he never flirted with anyone before.

"Your hair looks soft," as he let the words unintentionally tumble out of his mouth, he realized that was a really fucking weird thing to say to someone. It sounded weird, too, and he was probably freaking Beautiful Stranger out, now.

Beautiful Stranger turned their head towards Evan, surprised by the compliment, but they smiled, and it was small and kind and friendly and just really nice.

"Thank you," they nodded their head at Evan, in a friendly type of way.

Evan wasn't good at upholding conversations. He really preferred it when someone else upheld it for him, because coming up with questions and creating small talk just wasn't his forte. "Where— where do you get it styled?"

"Oh um, this is all natural, actually," Beautiful Stranger gestured to the wild curls. Evan internally decided he'd keep referring to them as them until he heard a name or other characteristics because he did not want to assume anything. "It's god awful to take care of. It just— does it's own thing— that's how curly it is, it's ridiculous. Back in high school my dad would always tell me to chop it if I complained, but I was as stubborn as a mule, I suppose."

"I can't say the same," Evan chuckled meekly. "My uh— I was never aloud to grow out my hair. They always c-chopped it if I tried growing it out." Back when he was still living in a lab, his primary caretaker, Doctor Sherman, didn't let Evan grow out his hair or change it in any way, shape, or form. Previously before, he didn't know why they wouldn't let him grow it out or dye it, but he knew it was just to keep his appearance consistent on his file. Now that he was free, he was growing out his natural hair to a mullet.

"Oh," Beautiful Stranger looked like they wanted to say more, but chose not to. "I'm sorry," they looked away from him.

And just like that, the conversation died.

Evan resisted the urge to sigh, instead drinking his water, slightly disappointed. He needed a new plan, so he paid and left the bar, going back to the alleyway.

If some friendly banter didn't work, maybe seduction would do the trick? While he didn't know what attracted Beautiful Stranger, he decided he'd settle on a tall, skinny girl, with long, black hair, and would wear a shiny, ruby red dress with flats. It'd be the easiest way to find out what exactly caught Beautiful Stranger's eye (and if Beautiful Stranger seemed uncomfortable, Evan would back off, because he would never want to do something like that to them).

He let his muscles shrink and become more femininely shaped, as fat faded away and gentle curves smoothed their way up his thighs and hips, and his bones shrank and rearranged, as his face become a softer shape (despite having a women's body, he still preferred being as a guy).

Evan once again showed the bouncer his ID as he entered, spotting Beautiful Stranger just where he left them. He strutted over to him, feigning confidence, and willing his hands not to shake.

He gave them a gentle shoulder stroke to catch their attention, and trailed his finger down their arm.

Beautiful Stranger shuddered at the touch, and looked at Evan, seeming to be surprised.

"Hey hot stuff," he purred, silently hoping he was coming off as seductive and not as a predator or anything. "You're looking very nice tonight."

They chuckled somewhat awkwardly, and gave a little smile. "Um.. thanks?"

"You come here often?" Evan leant against the counter, allowing a relaxed pose to take its place.

"Not really? Look, you're attractive, and I mean like, super attractive, you're so beautiful but..." Beautiful Stranger let out a sigh. "I've stopped doing one night stands, and I'm here with my sister, celebrating something kinda important. So if you're looking for a hookup, sorry, but I can't."

Evan was surprised by his honesty, but stood up straight, knowing he wasn't wanted anymore. "Alright, I get it. I'll be on my way."

"Thank you," They seemed relieved. As Evan made his way out, he could feel their eyes on them. They cleared their throat and said, "Is that a snake tattoo?"

Evan turned his head back, seeing some of his tattoo slip out. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, as the dress he wore was a bit revealing, especially in his backside. He just nodded.

"What's it mean?" Beautiful Stranger asked.

Ironically, Evan had never been the one who chosen that tattoo. Doctor Sherman chose where it went and what it was, and that was that. That was four years ago, and he was just twenty two, and while he could try to get it removed, it was a special tattoo that changed along with whatever form he took (the same went with his right red-green eye).

"Er— I guess it's a conception of judging something by it's appearance, but it being completely different," he just made all of that up, because what else was he supposed to say?

Beautiful Stranger hummed thoughtfully, before turning away from him.

Throughout the night, Evan tried using different forms and personalities in an attempt to impress Beautiful Stranger, but none seemed to work. They didn't seem to bat an eye at the different people he made, and whatever conversations they had were short and unimportant. Evan could only assume they just didn't like him. It was somehow, still, just him.

Evan entered the bar a final time that evening, wearing a basic blue button up, neat jeans that had little to no holes, and a grey jacket, as he swung his drawstring bag that was filled with his various outfits he'd used that night. Evan was tired, and quite frankly just wanted to drink and to drown his sorrows in them. In the back of his mind, he told himself to stay sober enough to rent a motel to pass out in (he didn't have an actual place to stay).

He sat down a couple of seats away from Beautiful Stranger. He just couldn't bear another rejection or let down. He wanted to be alone, probably for the first time all night, with whatever drink he'd buy.

"What'll it be?" The bartender from earlier approached him.

"I'd like some Rose Wine, p-please," Evan fidgeted with the hem on his jacket. "And put it on my tab?"

As he ordered, he couldn't help but feel a set of eyes on him, which was weird, because he wasn't remotely interesting to be watching. While granted, Evan was a shapeshifter, he tried to live his life as vanilla as possible, because that's what he missed, he never got to live normally, and he probably never will, because the government is still after him, and all he wants to do is meet his mom, who supposedly just 'gave him up', which he doesn't really buy, not at all, and go live in Canada, because he erased all files on him before he left, so they wouldn't be able to get him (or at least, he assumed). The only thing holding him back was the lack of money he had, and he'd need a job for a good solid few months, but he also couldn't stay on the streets, because that was unsanitary, and it was only going to get colder and colder each and every day.

"Bad day?" A familiar voice asked above him, settling into the seat beside his.

Evan didn't even want to raise his head to face them, so he just shrugged feebly. "Shitty night..." he said softly, and fuck, when did his eyes start watering? Doctor Sherman always called him sensitive, and told him he needed to mask and control his emotions. It wasn't like he could control his emotions, no matter how much he wanted to, because feelings were complicated and messy, and he just wanted them gone so he wouldn't have to deal with him.

"You um, wanna talk about it?" The stranger offered, and his curiosity got the better of him, as he raised his head from the counter top, and wow, okay, it was Beautiful Stranger sitting next to him, giving him a look of worry that could be compared to offering someone their condolences when a family/friend died, which was kind of baffling, because they hadn't really cared about him before, well, more like the different versions of him, actually, they'd never formally met like his true, god awful form, and yet he was getting more attention than any of his others did.

For obvious reasons, he couldn't tell him he was trying to talk to him all night, because he'd sound crazy, so he had to make something up. "Er— my b-boyfriend, he didn't like how anxious I was— or well, still am, actually— with like, everything, and I— I tried to change for him, but... nothing worked... so he b-broke it off with me..."

"So wait. You were trying to change yourself for some selfish asshole, while you have anxiety?" Beautiful Stranger looked pissed off, but not at him.

Evan nodded feebly, not saying anything. Really, what could he have said?

"You deserve better than him," Beautiful Stranger said firmly, shaking their head. "You're better off."

The bartender set down a cup of Rose Wine, and Evan suddenly remembered his plan. Taking the cup, he downed it and asked, "Why're you here?"

"Celebrating with my sis. I'm four years clean from cutting and two years clean from smoking weed," it was weird, because they seemed more eager to tell him about this than before in his other form.

"That— that's great," he smiled at them, because it was great, and it had to be a big achievement if they felt the need to celebrate it.

"It hasn't been easy, but it's worth it... What about you?" Again, there's hesitation in their voice, but they fight through it. It's kind of admirable.

In a way, Evan's addicted to shapeshifting. He absolutely loves being able to reinvent himself, despite the pain that rushes through his body, and it never fails to get his blood pumping.

But it's another thing he can't tell Beautiful Stranger. So, he says, "Lying. I hate conflict."

"But you aren't lying to me," Beautiful Stranger was smiling at him, and was he flirting? Evan couldn't tell.

"Or— or so you think," really, he was lying to them, but only about small stuff.

"If you were lying, you'd get defensive, and well, you aren't," Beautiful Stranger laughed slightly.

Evan sputtered, "I mean— well—I guess."

Beautiful Stranger squinted at him, and then smiled, "Wait, hold on, you have it too?"

"Have— have w-what too?" Evan was confused by what he meant.

"Your eye. It's got a little red in it," they clarified.

Evan's face flushed, and he looked away, covering it. Doctor Sherman could never find out where the red came from, and called it a 'scientific anomaly'. "Oh... sorry. It's weird, I know."

"Wait, no! I didn't mean it like that!" Beautiful Stranger rushed, and— that's their hand? It's so soft. "Just. Look at me?"

Evan sighed internally, but complied, and watched Beautiful Stranger brush their beautiful, long hair out of their face, revealing his left brown eye with a large amount of blue in it. He gasped, gazing at it.

"I wanted to say we both have Heterochromia," they chuckled awkwardly.

"Oh..." Evan said softly, trying hard not to stare at them. He knew from experience how awkward it was to have people staring at him, but he couldn't help it. They were just... so beautiful (hence the nickname), and Evan would stare at them for forever if he could, and fuck, their hand was still on top of his, and their gaze was directed at him and felt all too tingly in a sudden moment.

His thoughts were interrupted by the bartender coming by. "Want a refill?"

Evan nodded to them, and watched as the cup filled once more with the Rose Wine, taking it afterwards, and took another drink.

Beautiful Stranger grimaced, "Please tell me you didn't drive here."

Evan finished half of it before setting the cup down. The alcohol was really starting to set in. "Can't drive if I don't have a car," he shot finger guns at him somewhat awkwardly.

"So you walked," they assumed, "cause I don't think you'll be okay to go out on the streets like this."

"I'll be fine!" Evan laughed, and oh yeah, the alcohol was really hitting now. "I don't—" he hiccuped, probably from not having any water in between drinks. "I don't even know y-your— name!"

"It's Connor. Connor Murphy," Beautif— no, Connor Mur— no, beautiful Connor Murphy, smiled at him, and Evan decided it was safe to assume his pronouns were he/him unless told otherwise.

Evan slowly raised his arm so Connor could take his hand, but it probably looked weird, but everything was spinning and he'd rather not fall off of his stool and get a concussion. Never the less, Connor The Beautiful took his hand and shook it.

"I'm... beautiful," he whispered, not really used to calling Connor by his actual name. He was just so beautiful, he couldn't help it.

"While I won't deny that, I still need your name," Connor laughed, letting go of his hand. Evan just let it drop, sort of like it was weightless.

"Oh," Evan drank the rest of his second cup, and asked for a third. He laughed at the fuzziness gathering in his chest and said, "It's Evan."

Oh so beautiful Connor was smiling shyly at him. "Well Evan, maybe I can convince my sister to give you a ride home?"

It dawns on Evan that he kind of can't accept his offer. He'd love to, definitely, without a doubt, but he just have a home. His cup was filled once again, so he took another drink, trying to figure out how to tell Connor he couldn't without hurting his feelings.

"I— don't have one," well, congratulations Evan, for being brutally honest with this super hot stranger that he'd never see again.

Admitting to homelessness probably always sparked concerned, Evan reasoned to himself, as he saw Connor's expression melt into shock. "What? But where have you been staying?"

"Shelters, hotels, motels, and sometimes on a bench," he laughed dryly. He was painfully used to this routine by now, but it's not like he could leave.

"God, I'm so sorry for asking," Connor groaned, hiding his face in his hand.

Another drink went down the hatch. " 'm not mad or anyth'ng, you d'dn't know." He was forgetting to articulate his 'i's, he was aware, but did that really matter? No, he was drunk, and he could do whatever he wanted (well, he'd probably get in trouble, but that didn't matter to his drunken mind).

"Fuck, are you going to be okay?" Again, there was that look of worry, while Sober Evan would appreciated, Drunk Evan didn't want to be pitied.

" 'll be fine," he insisted, his cup becoming empty. "Just need a motel."

"Well when you're done, can I take you to one?" Connor took a moment to pause. "And I know it's weird, because we barely know each other, but I promise it's not out of pity, but because you're important."

'Important to the government? Yes. Important around here? No,' Evan thought to himself, but didn't actually say it. "Okay."

While Evan had a couple more drinks, Connor made some small talk. He talked about how hellous his high school years were, as he was at the bottom of the food chain, among with the relentless expectations from his parents didn't make life easier. He'd spiraled into depression, and struggled with it for the longest time, but eventually got a support system he could fall back on if needed be. He went into Graphic Design and was interning to design Buildboards with a company. In the spring, he'd graduate and start working there, while his sister majored in Astromony, and her girlfriend, Alana graduated early with to be a Paralegal (that was normal for her, because she always went the extra mile, he explained).

Once done, Connor talked to a blonde haired girl Evan could only assume was Zoe. With every passing moment, he could feel his legs wobble and he had to use the counter to stay upright. Connor noticed this, and coaxed Evan into grabbing onto his shoulder for balance, which was super nice, as he lead him out into his car.

It was embarrassing that he couldn't even get his seatbelt on without help, but all he could do was slump back against against the seat and mope. Connor was typing into his phone, looking for a nearby motel, most likely, and Evan couldn't help but feel just... so lucky. He knew guys like Connor weren't nearly as common as he'd like to believe, and just the fact he was doing this for him... Just was amazing.

Finding a motel didn't take nearly as long as he thought it would, much to Evan's disappointment. Was it wrong he wanted to be around him so much? He barely knew him, and yet there he was, wanting to see him again.

"Can you get inside okay?" Connor turned to him once the car was parked.

Really, Connor was just too sweet for his own good. Was he trying to leave Evan swooning hopelessly after him, cause he hoped not. "Yeah. It's just a few feet."

But just when he was about to step out of the car, Connor spoke up, "Can I have your number?"

Evan felt frozen in his spot, out of fear or anticipation, he couldn't tell.

"It's just— believe it or not, I've had a really nice time talking with you tonight, and I wanted to see you again," Holy fuck, that smile, it was like finding a diamond in the rough. So beautiful and rare, and aimed just at him.

Evan could feel himself fumbling for his phone, and handed it over, watching Connor take his out so he could take it. He silently typed in his number, seeing Connor smiling as he did the same, and they swapped back. He couldn't believe it. He'd gotten Connor's number.

And as he stumbled into the cheapest motel room he could find for the night, he felt like he finally did something right for once.

#deh #dear evan hansen #evan #evan hansen #connor #connor murphy #zoe #zoe murphy #alana #alana beck #shapeshifter evan #shapeshifter #meeting #bar

9 notes · View notes

littlesugarwords · 5 years

Text

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “The Things We Do”

Title: The Things We Do Characters: Clementine, Luke, Kenny Summary: When Clementine gets her first period and sends Kenny and Luke out to find her products, the two bicker the entire way. Kenny makes fun of Luke and, in the end, Luke gets his revenge. All in the name of getting Clem tampons. Author's Note: this one was so fun to write!! i hope you guys like it!! Requested By: simply_psychopathic on Wattpad support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

“You have what happening right now?”

Luke closed his eyes, mortified by Kenny’s question. Of course, he knew that Clementine was far more mortified than he could ever be.

Clementine took a deep breath, exhaling sharply through her nose. Her hands were balled into fists, her face flushed red, and that grew even darker when she needed to repeat herself. “I’m,” she hesitated, gulping. “Bleeding. And I need stuff for it.”

Kenny stared at her, confused out of his skull. Beside him, smirking, Luke found his lack of comprehension hilarious. Deciding to spare Clementine the trauma of Kenny fumbling through even more questions, he stepped in. “I get it, Clem. We’ll handle it.”

“Handle what?” Kenny snapped, turning to the male. He absolutely hated feeling out of the loop, and right now? The loop was nowhere near him. They weren't even in the same realm.

Luke had a plethora of sisters when he was growing up. Seeing as he was the middle child — with girls in his house both younger and older than him — he learned about everything. His mother very much valued teaching him everything alongside his sisters. “There’s no value in keeping this a secret.” She’d said. “You’ll value knowing this. It affects you too.”

So, when Luke entered high school and his peers were learning all the ins and outs of contraception, safe sex and, of course, menstruation, Luke was well ahead of the game. To him, the topics didn’t phase him.

Clearly, Kenny hadn’t gone through the same treatment.

“My God,” he sighed as they wandered the forest road. Whether it was out of embarrassment, or shock, or disbelief that Clementine was growing up, Luke didn’t know. He chose not to ask.

“It’ll be an easy trip,” Luke said, adjusting his machete strap. “We’ll walk in, grab all that we can, then head back home.”

They were headed toward an abandoned convenience store on the side of the road. It was about a 20-minute walk — 30 with Kenny slowing Luke down — and the plan was to grab as much supplies as they could. That way, Clem wouldn’t need to worry about running out for a while.

“If it’s such an ‘easy trip,’ then why’d you have to drag me along?”

“Because I didn’t want you embarrassing Clem more than you have to.”

Kenny glared at the comment. Luke just smirked. All he knew about Kenny was that he, in the past, had a wife and a son. It didn’t surprise him that he knew so little, especially in their new world where children were so rare. Needless to say, the longer he could keep Kenny from saying anything awkward to Clem, the better.

Luke’s job was to make sure of that just like he had done for his sisters in the past. The memory gave his chest a bittersweet ache.

In silence, the two stumbled across the convenience store right on time and, just like they’d planned, slipped in without complication. The store, to that day, hadn’t been used as a base by any group. While Luke wanted to find it surprising, the truth was that it was so out-of-the-way people rarely stumbled across it. Considering that Carver’s camp was nearby, and that most of the road’s travellers were either escaping him or about to be kidnapped by him, no one wanted to linger for long.

The doors were unlocked and, weapons drawn, the two made their way in. When it was empty, they relaxed.

“Let’s search the place first,” Luke said, returning his machete and adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder. “There’s probably some stuff here we can use.”

Kenny hummed in agreement, pocketing his gun and adjusting his backpack. His only request was that Luke be the one who fetched what Clementine needed. Kenny knew absolutely nothing about what to get to help her.

Luke started in the cereal, crackers, and granola aisle. Three granola bars laid on the ground, clearly dropped from the last group to swing through. He tossed them into his bag and kept searching. On the other end of the store, Kenny was rifling through canned food, ignoring the ones that were punctured or swollen and instead bagging those in good condition.

Time passed in silence, and the two continued to scan the aisles, noting the one that carried the supplies they came for. Kenny avoided it. Luke glanced at it fleetingly, seeing how much space he needed to leave in his bag to swipe the aisle clean.

“Hey look,” Sounded through the silence.

Luke glanced up from where he was studying dusty, old boxes of what he assumed were cereal. He turned, passing an aisle for where Kenny was. “What?” He asked.

Stepping to the side, Kenny gestured to a baby doll. “It’s you.” He said. He was in the toy aisle which held only a handful of items. The smirk on his face at the insult — albeit a bad one — made Luke’s lip twitch.

Luke pursed his lips. Turning, he gestured to a small cluster of dust swept into the corner of a shelf. “And that’s you, old man.”

Kenny’s gaze turned and his smirk instantly vanished. “Let’s just get the shit and go.”

Luke was in charge of gathering and packing Clementine’s supplies as it was easiest for both of them. After all, Luke actually knew what he was getting. Kenny was lost beyond belief. So, as planned, Luke went to the section and swiped it clean. After stuffing his bag to the brim and transferring all of their collected food into Kenny’s bag, they continued on their way.

“So, your girlfriend’s never talked to you about any of this?”

Oh Lord did Kenny hate where this conversation was going. “No.” He said.

Luke puffed out his lower lip, but said nothing. It was strange to him that someone could live in a world where not only did they not know how menstruation worked, but that thought it was gross opposed to natural and normal.

“I know how it works. It’s not my place to ask for all the details about how they handle it.” Kenny furthered.

Luke shrugged. “It’s useful to know. Especially now since we’re all in such close quarters.”

Kenny knew Luke was right, but it would be a cold day in hell before he admitted that aloud. So, he remained silent.

He’d never had a daughter; he’d only ever had Duck. Seeing as Katjaa and Sarita were private people, they never thought to have a conversation about how they handled it. It felt pointless and needlessly embarrassing; something that could never emerge naturally in conversation, and seeing as he never had a daughter, it felt even less needed.

Should he learn all about it as a courtesy for the people he lived with? Probably. Was he going to? He didn’t know.

“Oh shit,” Kenny groaned, doubling over.

Luke turned hearing Kenny’s footsteps stop, staring at his hunched over figure. He raised a brow, skeptical. That was, until he spotted blood droplets hit the floor of the dirt path. His eyes widened and he jumped. “Kenny?” He asked, starting closer. “Hey, are you okay?”

The male groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and gradually forcing himself to be more upright. His head remained downcast. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Nosebleed.”

Luke blinked, watching as another blood droplet fell from his face and crashed to the floor. He raised a brow, considering, then relaxing. “Do you need a minute?”

“No shit.” He snapped. “I need to get the bleeding to stop before we start attracting.”

Luke placed his hands on his hips. Kenny has a point — walkers were attracted to the smell of blood. If they caught wind of him, that was trouble. Trouble that would lead them right back to the lodge.

So, they needed to stop the bleeding. And fast.

Louis paced, and looked around, and considered. Then, he smirked. Then, he laughed.

He rummaged through his bag and Kenny heard the crinkling of packaging. He groaned, assuming Luke was taking it easy, opening one of the granola bars they’d found. Instead, after a moment of bitterly waiting, his chin was jolted up and an object was shoved up his nose. The only thing he could see in his field-of-view was Luke’s cheeky grin.

Instantly, he knew what had happened. His gaze heaved in displeasure.

Well, now he didn’t ever need to have that conversation with Sarita. He knew exactly how women handled their cycle. He knew exactly how those strangely designed products benefited them.

“You’re an asshole,” Kenny scoffed, his voice nasally and congested.

Luke bit on his lower lip to force back a laugh as he stared at the male. He turned away, not wanting to make him even angrier. “I think it’s a really great look for you.”

“Luke--”

“Very educational.”

“Fuck you.”

His plan of ‘not making him angry’ was out the window. Though, what else had he expected? It was Kenny. He could breathe and Kenny would call him selfish for stealing oxygen from others.

They wandered in bitter silence, occasionally Kenny slinging another ‘you’re an asshole’ or ‘was this really necessary’ his way. Luke only ever chuckled. “Hey, it worked.” He’d say.

Because he was right, Kenny wouldn’t say anything.

Approaching the cabin, Luke went in first. His priority was to get Clementine’s supplies to her ASAP. It would settle her worries and bring her peace; why they set out on their mission to begin with. Maybe it would make seeing Kenny in the state he was in a little less traumatic.

“You’re back!” Clem beamed, scurrying to the top of the stairs as the two slipped inside. She’d emerged from one of the back rooms she’d been aimlessly waiting in, pleading they could to find what she needed.

Luke came up first, taking up her field-of-view. “And we were successful.” He slid the bag off of his back and passed it, sealed, to Clementine’s open arms.

“Thank you,” she sighed, the panic in her eyes washing away. “Where’s Ken…” but before the words could escape her lips, her eyes landed on the very person she’d been missing.

Luke stepped to the side as she began, exposing the very male she’d been looking for. At the bottom of the stairs, Kenny was abandoning his gun on the weapons bench, his glare cool and calculated.

As he started up the stairs, Clementine’s confused stare contracted. “Uh, Kenny?”

When he reached the top, his eyes closed, and he huffed a sigh out of his only free nostril seeing as a tampon was wedged up his bleeding nose. “Don’t ask,” he snarled, his voice nasally and constricted. He started away into one of the back rooms to clean himself up and sort himself out.

Luke smirked as he watched him wander away. He watched how red Clem’s flared cheeks became, eyes wide as she stared dead-ahead, the reality of the situation settling in. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think he might have a skewed view of what those are actually used for now.”

Then, the embarrassment washing away as quickly as it had drawn upon her cheeks, Clem smiled and laughed; eyes closed, head dipped forward to muffle her giggles, face bright and happy.

It was his favourite sound, and he couldn’t help but giggle too. Her embarrassment was beginning to fade and joy was taking hold. It was exactly what he always wanted to offer Clementine: protection, comfort, and happiness.

Just like he used to offer his sisters. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

49 notes · View notes

rycewrites · 5 years

Text

lookism rant #1

so... it’s spring break. and i’ve spent the entire break doing what any smart ap student would do: ignoring my five looming ap tests and draining my phone battery by looking at webtoons and instagram. since most of my favorite webtoons are on hiatus, i have resolved to rereading my favorites, and one that i’ve reread the most so far is lookism. as spring break comes to a finish in two days, i decided to get my life back on track and instead of simply rereading the comic, i will rant about my most and least favorite characters starting with the fandom’s all-time favorite character (yes, if you check the wiki for lookism there is a poll and it is fact that he is the majority’s favorite), jay hong/hong jae yeol. (also, note that these are my opinions so if you disagree with them don’t be offended but i would be happy to hear other people’s opinions on the webtoon! please comment who would be on your list because i need to talk to more people who read lookism!)

top favorite characters~

1. jay hong/hong jae yeol:

let’s just list off reasons why everyone loves him: he is well-dressed (even plans out other people’s outfits), generous (gives daniel literally everything he wants), selfless (he fricking took in enu’s pups even though he is scared of dogs), RICH (main reason for kouji’s admiration), strong (manz uses his systema well), and CAN RIDE A MOTORCYCLE (yes, i love a man who can ride a bike). he may not be the most dynamic character, but his static puppy status makes it impossible for me to put him lower on this list. we honestly don’t know that much about his backstory and i am super curious about why his family relationships are so strained (except with his sister, joy). for now, he remains a mystery, but like an attractive mystery. overall, me -> ( ･_･)♡

2. zach lee/lee jin sung:

honestly hated this boi in the beginning because he was a big bully to daniel, but he has been through some SERIOUS character development. mira was a big part in this but i feel like overall his morals have changed so much even when mira isn’t around. he does still fight often, but now it’s not meaningless violence as he uses his boxing skills to defend his friends (ex: defending johan during the god dogs arc).

i also hated his eyebrows and hair in the beginning of the comic but like that’s personal preference. however, in the last few episodes, his hair looks SO GOOD (reference image above).

he is second on my list of favorite characters because i feel that his development throughout the story has been the most dynamic. he not only changed mentally as he overlooks lookism more (ex: he is not only friends with big daniel but also little daniel) but also physically as he doesn’t simply depend on his inherent talent for boxing but actually goes back and trains again in order to get better (to defend mira >.<)

in the future, i hope to see more development with his relationship with mira and his friends because i hold a lot of high hopes for this boi! ♥‿♥

3. vasco/lee eun tae/tabasco:

BIG CUTIE ENERGY ♥╣[-_-]╠♥! first off, he may not have as much long-term development over the course of the story like zach, but we do see a lot of his development with his own arc and bullying story. he was always a pure boi and his inherent innocence creates a discrepancy with his appearance which makes him more endearing in my opinion. the idea of lookism is very apparent in his character because most people look at him and see him as a gangster or someone very intimidating, but in reality his personality and mindset are very innocent (showing another way that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover). i honestly LOVED the scene in the god dogs arc in which he defended zach and daniel joins in because that friendship is GOLDEN. i love how he always strives to be stronger and more powerful to defeat the evil in the world because it shows that he truly cares about the weaker people and those impacted by lookism. in my opinion, i think that vasco and zach will end up being the most powerful in the story (but that’s my opinion)

4. mira kim/kim mi jin:

pure! cute! sweet! moral! (✿ ♥‿♥)! mira is just an all-around great gal that makes it impossible for me to find flaws with. although she isn’t super major in terms of daniel’s story, she does impact zach significantly and makes him a better person. like she is the sole reason that zach has become a character that i truly admire and like. (although she did think that daniel was the r-word when he tried hitting on her in the beginning of the story. but throughout the story we see that she isn’t really a person to judge people on looks and stuff as we see that she gives jasmine the benefit of the doubt even after the vasco fiasco)

5. yena/eli jang’s (jang hyun’s) daughter:

honestly too cute for words. like the episodes where zach and mira find her are my favorites so i just wanted to include her in my favorite character list. also, she seems to be a character that really impacts other characters (zach and eli really changed for her ಥ_ಥ)

least favorite characters~

park ji ho:

always doing dumb things and making it harder for the people around him. he tries too hard to be a part of the popular group and as zach said, he doesn’t really think of them as friends because he just thinks about what the benefits are for hanging out with daniel and co. i think we all went from being tolerant of jiho in the beginning and then hating him at the end. i especially hated how he kept blaming other people and yet not accepting when people were being friendly. especially during the fake bank account arc, he just brushed off daniel when he asked jiho if he wanted to go to the convenience store then jiho goes running back to daniel and his friends when he realizes his mistake. overall, -123912830/10.

2. james gong:

don’t even know where to start with this punk. very violent for very little reason! i know i stated before that i hate jiho but i still felt kinda bad for him when he realized that james had sold the bank account he made for him. just overall a very intimidating character that hurt zach (ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

3. jasmine huh:

needs to get her shit(ake) together. first off, she almost got vasco expelled from the school because of her lies. like big! red! flag! it seems that she really doesn’t care about other people (except james) and is willing to put so many other people at risk to save her own behind. also, i hate how she uses other people. like how she uses mira to make money when mira didn’t do anything wrong ヾ(ﾟдﾟ)ﾉ. i hope she one day realizes that her lies are gonna hurt so many other people and then herself.

4. heemin kim/zeus/creepy dude from the boot camp arc:

sexual assault is a big no in this household. i hate how he thinks that being handsome can defend him of his crimes! also, he broke zach’s arms which made me FLIP OUT. LIKE HOW DO YOU DARE TO HARM MY BOXER BOI. he also attacked mira, an actual angel ლ(ﾟдﾟლ). words can’t describe how much i hate this man but numbers can -> 0/10

5. logan lee/lee tae sung:

big bully energy. he needs to lay his hands off of everyone (especially zoe!). blackmail? big no go in this household. he also dumped his plate of food on mira? BIG NO GO! he needs to get his life together and realize that people don’t hate him because he’s “ugly,” it’s because he has THE WORST PERSONALITY!

6. strong contenders for least favorite: stalker girl, animal cruelty cat mom/hoarder, zoe’s stalker

characters that i need more information about to form stronger opinions about~

vin jin/jin ho bin:

dislike him because he abused enu but also want to know more about him. big bully energy but i feel like he has a deep backstory behind him so i want to know more. why did he quite judo? why does he wear sunglasses? hope he gets over his superiority complex and changes because i feel like he has a lot of potential.

2. eli jang/jang hyun:

so far, very cute and strong is all i have to say about him. also, he is a good dad like that scene where he put out that god dog’s cigarette? MAJOR PROPS TO YOU ELI. i’m very curious about his backstory as well because it seems that he was a contender for gun’s successor but he changed drastically to take care of yena. i also just love a man with good hair sooo…

3. jong gun + joon goo:

i want to know more about these two! like what’s their backstory? why did gun create the 4 big crews? why was goo sent to the juvenile detention center before? (look at vasco’s bullying arc for reference) why did gun leave goo alone with the money collection? overall very mysterious and i want to learn more.

random characters that just deserve appreciation~

crystal choi/choi soo jung:

we stan a strong female character. however, i don’t like how she is immediately prejudiced against handsome men in the beginning of her appearance. i think over time she’ll realize that her prejudice isn’t right and her experience as someone who has to deal with lookism doesn’t justify her immediate judgements. however, we need more female fighters in this story so she is a big yes.

2. duke pyeon:

WE STAN A MAN WHO FOLLOWS HIS DREAMS DESPITE BEING BULLIED AND JUDGED. yes, we stan.

3. daniel park/park hyung suk:

honestly, he’s a great character and all, but i don’t know if he could ever reach favorite character status. i just have a mindset that makes me unable to pick the protagonist as a favorite character because i feel like they are sometimes created specifically to just bring the story together. don’t get me wrong, he’s a great person, defends his friends, and doesn’t fight for no reason, but i feel like there isn’t anything super special about his personality (other than the fact that he has two bodies but like so does crystal). he also looks like kim seokjin in his new body which is a big plus.

4. inu/enu + inu/enu’s pups:

i love dogs

5. mary kim/idk her korean name someone help me:

strong female character? i think yes. honestly such a fav. she doesn’t take sh*t from vin jin and i honestly want to know more about her character and background. *spoiler alert* i read ahead in the korean version and saw that she can beat people up too so like… she’s a bada**.

6. kouji:

as a person interested in computer science, I STAN. i also love a man with good hair. his cocky personality is sometimes off-putting but honestly his confidence is endearing at times. also we both love money!

7. jace park/park bum jae:

during vasco’s bullying story, i was so sad when he left vasco, but i love how he realized that he should’ve been a better friend and has stuck with vasco after all of this time. also love how he listens to vasco and tries to make him happy even when he knows that vasco does some silly things (like planting durian seeds in korea)

8. zoe park/park ha neul:

i love her development! she still fights with herself over whether she should like big daniel or small daniel, which displays her internal conflict with lookism. over time she has stopped judging people solely on their appearance and she is even able to distinguish between daniel and his cousin! (in my opinion, if daniel doesn’t end up with jay he better end up with zoe instead)

9. daniel’s (hyung suk’s) mother:

ICON! WE NEED TO APPRECIATE OUR PARENTS MORE! I AM A BIG STAN! SHE WORKS HARD FOR DANIEL AND IT BREAKS MY HEART WHEN DANIEL DOESN’T REALIZE!

10. song johan:

deserved better. he was just trying to help his mom which makes him so pure! but i feel like he should realize that he has friends (zach and mira) that could help him get through his problems! overall, want to see more of him and i hope he develops even more.

#lookism #daniel park #crystal choi #zach lee #vasco #jay hong #kouji #johan #webtoon #zoe park #logan lee #jace park #mary kim #vin jin #eli jang #james gong #mira kim

84 notes · View notes

transboygenius · 5 years

Text

Nick Dean is gay

Y'all remember reading my trans Jimmy Neutron headcanon post, right? While trans headcanons have 10 out of 10,000 chances of being official, here's another headcanon, with a character from the same series, that could possibly be true. Here are the reasons:

Nick is not really fond of girls.

He would smile at them, wink, fingerguns, even flirt with them for just a second, but he always ends up ignoring the dames. He doesn't even indulge their presence. Cindy is the only girl he’s ever interacted with the most, but he still gives her the cold shoulder afterwards. Sure, he was about to accept a date with her, only because she was offering one free concert ticket to him. By the second and third season, he no longer speaks to her. He seems to prefer the company of guys, and takes more effort talking to them than the girls. He likes to brag about how pretty and awesome he is, but he’s never bragged about the girls he easily attracts, which is something a ladies’ man usually does. Nick doesn’t even talk about girls, either. It seems he doesn’t really care about them.

“Well, he seemed to be into Betty Quinlan in Out Darn Spotlight! uwu!” He. Was. Acting. Fucking acting. That rehearsal didn’t define any romantic chemistry between him and Betty, other than a fake one. Besides, the look on his face backstage where he shifts an eye to her, he looked like he was uncomfortable, even putting on a forced-looking smile. He’s brave enough to kiss girls, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He kissed a girl, and he hated it!

The signs

Some of them may come off as stereotypical. He screams like a girl, he doesn’t sit in chairs properly, despite his bad boy image he actually likes participating in lighthearted musicals, he’s obsessed with how his hair looks, and he adores cutesy stuff. It is also implied that he is secretly insecure with himself and doesn’t like to show his softer side to anyone. It could very well be a closet case. Also, on Evil Jimmy’s earth, there dwells an “Evil Nick”, who is popular but as a bully’s victim. Butch, who’s supposedly his friend on Jimmy’s regular Earth, is still a bully in that world and now an enemy to Nick. This could reflect how gay kids experience more bullying than straight kids.

How he’s mistreated

Whatever the reason it might be to cut Nick out of the show and then turning him into a chew toy, maybe Nick was gay afterall. It can’t be another one of those tropes where the cool kid becomes the loser. Even when Nick was still popular, he still wasn’t handled equally like the other main characters, which he used to be considered one. Libby, not yet adapted into a main by then, had more screentime than him. Not having much lines and lack of character development has made him into an obscure character.

Word of advice: Never trust cishets to hand you queer representation on a silver platter. Let’s take Netflix’s Voltron for example. Oh, Voltron, I hate you so much. The show has become infamous to the LGBTQ+ community for its queerbaiting, forced heterosexuality, and supporting the Bury Your Gays trope. Shiro, the token gay character who stays alive, has suffered some shit. He’s been tormented numerous times, put up with depression worst than any of the other characters faced, and lost his arm. He later gets a male fiancé at the end of the series, but we never get the chance to meet, or see, said fiancé.

How convenient that Nick is akin with all the signs that make him gay, and here he is now! Not treated like he’s any important as the other characters, the butt of bad luck, and breaks his leg all the time. This is a show that glorifies the hetero agenda, “if a little girl picks on a little boy, or vice versa, it means love!”

His character was inspired by a gay actor

According to the Words of Satan (cuz John Davis is no God to me), Nick Dean is based on and named after the legend James Dean, an actor best known for his many bad boy roles. He was also gay himself. Actually, we don’t really know whether James Dean was inherently gay or bi. He dated women publicly, but dated men privately, as well as confirmed to having sexual relationships with them. One day, he had plans to marry a woman, but some point later on, he blew off that engagement. He claimed himself he’s not gay, although, James could either mean “I’m not homosexual. But I’m not heterosexual either,” or maybe he was lying. All those women could’ve just been public decoys.

Nick possibly has a crush on Jimmy

I said so before that Nick prefers the company of boys, but he seems to respect Jimmy more than anybody else. He openly appreciates him and doesn’t mind being his friend, despite how unlovable the boy genius may come off to most people. Nick doesn’t talk to Cindy anymore in the two last seasons, but would still speak to Jimmy. Sure, there’s the teasing, the dehumanization of addressing him by his surname only, and that one bit where he threw him into a dumpster. Hey, Nick didn’t treat him worse than Cindy did. Besides, his teasing is more friendlier in compare.

In the movie, Jimmy desperately wanted to go out to RetroLand, but is stuck on a school’s night. Nick rolls in and offers him a life hack. It’s not a very good life hack, but at least he actually cared to let Jimmy have some fun. Aliens abducting your parents is probably the most laughable assumption. The children were still skeptical over Jimmy’s hypothesis, due to how ridiculous it sounds, and Nick could’ve had the opportunity to make everyone laugh with him. Instead, he went with the plan, even telling Jimmy to lead on. He was especially still positive about Jimmy’s space trip plan even when he declared they had a 5% chance of blowing up. The only time he was negative towards Jimmy was in the dungeon scene. Cindy did make a point. Everyone was sad and scared. At the end of the film, he gave Jimmy his sucker as a token of gratitude. Something that was in his mouth, and he gave it to him. (Sounds like an in-direct kiss to me)

Think about it. If Nick really was in love with Betty, he would’ve have gotten in Jimmy’s face and threaten him to stay away from getting in between him and his girl, but he didn’t. He didn’t even threaten Jimmy after showering a rain cloud on him. Hell, he wasn’t even bummed out about loosing that kiss from Betty after breaking his leg.

Nick was the only one to call out Jimmy’s name, well, last name that is, during the Superman passage in Attack of the Twonkies. “It’s a bird!” “It’s a plane!” “It’s Neutron!” Although Nick picked Jimmy last in basketball, at least he picked him. The “last guy standing” challenge usually ends with one of the rivaling team picking someone else instead of that very last person. There’s a lot to say for Send In The Clothes. Nick wouldn’t care if other kids decided to pose just like him, but he was surprised when he saw “Jimmy” do it. He wasn’t hostile when “Jimmy” got up in his face and called him “skateboard boy.” He also let “Jimmy” touch his skateboard. Nick doesn’t seem like the type of guy to let anyone touch his board. Instead of envying “Jimmy” for having better moves than him, he was impressed. Of course he got mad after breaking his skateboard, but would you be mad at your crush for breaking one of your possessions? Later on in the episode, after Jimmy is cornered by an angry mod, Nick yells “I’ll hold him down!” One more thing I might add: This gaze he gives Jimmy in Jimmy For President.

It’s been said that Nick was suppose to have a larger role by the cancelled fourth season. They would have explored Nick’s character more, and he would grow a closer bond with Jimmy. Whatever those plans were, sure sound interesting. He could be the Courtney Gripling to Jimmy’s Ginger Foutley.

#Jimmy Neutron #Nick Dean #lgbtq+ headcanons #mlm #gay #Analysis #Nickelodeon #Long post #Jimmy/Nick #Jimmick #CoolScience #SE4SON

15 notes · View notes