#it belonged to nothing. it belonged to no store. it was from nowhere

[bloompompom]

rebounding; one-shot

“Don’t you want to give it a try? I mean, haven’t you ever thought about it?”

✧ content: ~10.5k words. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/roommate au. reader is dumped by unnamed boyfriend for "plot" purposes (what plot?), lighthearted with slight hurt/comfort + angst, complicated feelings, pure filth, eren’s bad with emotions but so are you, rough sex, praise, dirty talk, 'pretty girl' as a pet name, mentions of masturbation, light overstimulation, oral sex (f!receiving), protected PIV sex, explicit sexual content, explicit language, reader discretion advised. 18+ only

It was little more than a passing thought when Eren realized he hadn’t seen you since he’d been home. It wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary, considering your boyfriend’s shoes strewn near the front door—Eren tripped over one earlier—but he thought you would have come out for a snack or a trip to the bathroom or something by now.

Perhaps it was best to give you two some privacy.

On his way out, he opted to text you instead of knocking on your door to check if you needed anything. He took his time gathering his wallet and keys, but even after a few minutes, you still hadn’t opened the message. He got the hint, loud and clear. 

The five-minute drive to the corner store didn’t eat up much time, and Eren spent the first half of the hour trying to figure out how to kill the next. He stalled for as long as he could, running down his mental checklist for household essentials and uselessly debating between soda brands. But after a while, he started to feel like a weirdo for stalking every aisle twice over. 

Eren didn’t like to be at the apartment when he was there, your boyfriend. It wasn’t anything personal—

Okay, maybe he could admit it was a little personal. Eren had told you before that he was a major douchebag, but hey, at least he was honest.

Anyway, it wasn’t like anyone wanted to be around when their roommate was getting laid, but Eren had nowhere else to go and a gas tank bordering on empty. He couldn’t even take the long way back home. 

Somewhere in his gut, Eren hoped you’d be there to greet him when he returned. Not for any special reason; he was just bored. What was the point of having a roommate if they were always locked away in their bedroom? 

Of course, you’d only been ‘locked away’ for a handful of hours, but that was like an eternity to Eren—always one for dramatics. For him, it was an ordinary Tuesday night, with nothing to see or do except wait until he was tired enough to sleep. He couldn’t even enjoy his show because you scolded him for putting on an episode while you were out. ‘I can’t believe you watched our show without me!’ He wasn’t sure when the ‘our show’ thing started because it didn’t even seem like you paid it any attention.

Unfortunately for him, when Eren stepped through the front door, you weren’t curled in your usual nook on the couch. Your boyfriend’s shoes were still annoyingly kicked to the side, and not a single thing had changed since he left. The apartment wasn’t that spacious, and it didn’t take long to learn the walls were about as thin as cardboard, which made the silence eerie as Eren slipped from his shoes. Even the metallic clang of his keys on the table felt out of place, like he was walking on eggshells in his own home. Something was off. 

Before he could put his finger on it—before he could even crack open his bottle of soda—he discerned the first sign of life from your room. Shouting, but Eren couldn’t pick out if it belonged to you or him.

Your bedroom door swung open. Eren didn’t see it but heard the swoosh of it, the rickety wood shrieking in its hinges. Your boyfriend stormed down the hallway, shoulders tensed and hands drawn into fists at his side. What did Eren say about him being a douchebag again?

Then, he shot Eren this glare. This downright nasty glare for no good reason, flagrantly huffing and puffing his way to snatch his jacket. He was rough with it, leaving the chair wobbling but still upright. 

Prickly, and merely seconds away from acting on it, Eren’s disgust curled at his lip to return the sneer. But the asshole was out the door—even made sure to slam it behind him—before Eren could ask what the hell his problem was.

The apartment went quiet again. The door stopped quavering and the room was still. Though your boyfriend was gone, the strangely thick, suffocating air lingered. Eren didn’t know what to make of it. He couldn’t move, firmly planted in the center of the living room like his feet had taken root. He didn’t want to know what just happened, lest he wished to get wrapped up in your relationship drama, but he had this dreaded feeling he was about to learn regardless. Especially once the sniffling began, faint, but spilling from your room and into the hall. 

The door to your bedroom was still open. Eren grazed his knuckles against it, carefully trying to catch your attention. You saw only his head at first, tentatively poked around the corner. After he decided the coast was clear, he made himself known, loosely leaning against the doorframe like he always did when he had something to tell you.

Your instinct was to hide your face—to quickly swat away the tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was your best attempt at collecting yourself, but it was worthless because Eren had already seen the puffy-eyed look on your face.

You straightened out, uncrumpling your legs and letting them hang from the edge of the bed. You started to fumble over snot-coated words. “God, sorry. I probably look like a mess.”

Eren couldn’t begin to guess why you were apologizing, and immediately, he felt a pang of sympathy. Despite how it struck him iron-hot in his chest, he didn’t know what to do with it. His body stiffened. 

Thinking (hoping) you’d laugh, or at the very least chuckle, he didn’t disagree with you. Instead, he pitched you a boyish yet well-meant, “What’s new?”

You pulled a face but otherwise ignored the comment, reaching toward the box of tissues on your nightstand. Eren was surprised there were any left, considering you were surrounded by what appeared to be a hundred of them. Balled up and scattered across your bed, the floor, and even one on your lap. He didn’t want to, but he took a cautious step into your room. He even took another, squeamishly watching you loudly blow your nose. 

He should say something, shouldn’t he?

“So,” Eren started, rocking back on his heels once. “What happened?”

You glanced over at him, still looking pretty awful. You had smeared the streaks of mascara across the crests of your cheeks, even to your temples, tinging them like soot. Eren’s stomach seized up as he fought off his primal urge to back away slowly and retreat to his bedroom. 

You sucked in a breath and answered, “We broke up.” Between the words, your bottom lip started to quiver. “He broke up with me.”

Say what you wanted about Eren—label him a cynic or accuse him of being heartless, perhaps both—but he didn’t particularly enjoy dealing with others’ emotions. To put it bluntly, they repulsed him, most especially the waterworks that accompanied them. 

Eren averted his eyes like you were some tragic spectacle. He hated seeing you like this. It was such a bummer, no different than spotting a kitten forgotten in a rainstorm. He wished he could console you, find an umbrella and run to your rescue, but that was much more complicated than it sounded. 

If he had known about the breakup earlier (if you had responded to his text message), he would have brought you something back from the store. Ice cream or red wine—the sort of stuff he’d seen in movies—he didn’t know. Ugh.

He remembered his bottle of soda, still sealed with its condensation cooling his hand. He extended it to you, offering, “Here. You can take this if you want.”

Face buried in your palms, you pried your gaze higher and, unexpectedly, grimaced.

“What? No, I don’t want that right now,” you grumbled. Eren could be such an idiot sometimes. 

Your voice was sour enough to sting, like he had purposefully salted your brand-new wound. His face said enough—a resounding yikes—but he didn’t stop there; he continued digging his own grave. 

Eren nodded his head in the general direction of the front door. “You know, he probably hasn’t gotten too far. I could go kick his—”

“I think I just want to be left alone.”

“Well, what if we—”

“Seriously, Eren,” you snapped. “Go away.”

Tears collected in the corners of your eyes again, welling up like dew. Then your bottom lip did that trembling thing again. It must have embarrassed you; that was why you rushed to slam the door in Eren’s face. At least, that was what he told himself, rather than admit you didn’t want his help, that he was only making things worse. That maybe he was the last person you wanted to see right then.

Honestly, that might have been the case. Not just in that fleeting moment but for the days to come.

It had been over a week since that night, a very strange eleven days in the little apartment you both called home. It wasn’t like you to keep to yourself. Even when Eren first moved in, when he was little more than a stranger to you, you liked his company. You told him as such. ‘I just like to have someone to talk to. That’s all.’ And you’d do just that, chatting to pass the time it’d take to wash the dishes or whatever menial task you were up to. Eren never minded, but it did make it harder to adjust to the quiet. He could even admit he missed your unnecessary commentary while he watched TV.

He supposed it was naive of him to think you’d bounce back from a breakup after only a week. But were you really that hung up on this guy?

No, Eren was sure you were giving him the cold shoulder for badgering you less than a minute after your boyfriend had stormed out. Not that it wasn’t deserved, but for the record, you never apologized for slamming the door in his face.

Neither of you wanted to lose this childish stand-off, nor were you above butting heads, no better than a couple of rams, if given the right provocation.

To outsiders, the two of you may seem like an unlikely pair. But the reality of it was you shared this apartment for well over a year now. Eren wasn’t your original roommate, that was your friend Mikasa. After a few months of living together, she was offered an internship a few hours south of here, out of commuting range, and took it on a whim. That internship turned into her dream job, and her friend Eren’s sublease turned into one of his own, for no other reason than it just worked; it was as simple as that. 

So one could imagine why Eren had trouble wrapping his head around it. By now, it was customary, borderline a requirement of living together, for you to annoy one another. You’d poke and poke and poke, as roommates tend to, and no matter what, the other would come around. Eren always did. You always did.

But this time, even Eren’s bribes didn’t work. Not even a latte from your favorite cafe—conveniently located on his walk home from the gym—softened you. That was when he knew it was bad, worse than when you discovered he’d been snitching from your expensive hair products in the shower. It was awkward and tense and, frankly, unbearable. 

It was Saturday night, probably creeping into Sunday morning. Eren’s eyes burned, a bit bloodshot when he last checked. He took it as his sign to shut off the computer. 

You still weren’t home. Eren didn’t know where you were; he told himself he didn’t care, but his rampant curiosity said otherwise. Throughout the night, he’d excuse himself from his video game, telling his friends he’d be back in a second, and on his way to ransack the kitchen for the umpteenth time, he’d check to see if your purse had returned to its rightful spot: draped over the back of the loveseat. For whatever reason, your absence irked him.

You knew there was a chance Eren would still be awake when you came home; you just didn’t expect to bump into him. 

You stood in your entryway, your coat only halfway down your arms and sagged around your elbows, when Eren emerged from the hallway. He had a hand shielded over his squinted eyes as they adjusted to the brash overhead light. 

His white tee held the wrinkles of his bedsheets. It was an old shirt, by the look of it, its collar drooped in the front and a hemline that appeared slightly thread-barren against his charcoal sweatpants. He must have fallen asleep with his hair tied back; stray strands framed his cheekbones and curtained his lidded eyes. He blinked them a few times, hard, then let his hand slump to his side. He studied you with a judgy once-over. 

“Did you just get home?” He sounded as groggy as he looked. 

“Yeah.” It was a rather redundant question, given your current state of toying with your strappy heels, bounding around on one foot as you tried to slip free of them.

Eren retrieved his phone from his pocket. “It’s almost three in the morning.” He showed you the screen as if you requested proof.

“So?”

“What were you doing out that late?”

You couldn’t decipher his tone, and for the life of you, you couldn’t read the expression on his face. For once, it was blank. Tired, but blank.

“It’s none of your business,” you snarked.

“It is when you wake me up.”

You had difficulty believing you had woken him up in the thirty seconds you’d been home. Regardless, you brushed him off with, “I was out with a friend.”

You were purposefully vague because it truly was none of his business. But you let your attitude seethe to the forefront, with it, an implication you didn’t intend. 

Eren gave you this look, stern and accusatory, but more than anything, he looked absolutely baffled with you. 

“You didn’t.”

He thought you went crawling back to your ex. 

You didn’t correct him in time to prevent his ranting and raving.

“You can’t be serious. After what he did?” He was referring to the nasty breakup. “After everything?” And that was referring to the rest. You were aware Eren had become an unlucky bystander to your relationship, frequently caught in the fallout of every nuclear fight. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wiping the sleep from the inner corners of his eyes as if it would clear his head. “You could be with anyone you want. Why go back to him?”

You were insulted he’d think so lowly of you, that you needed a fatherly lecture from him of all people. You were fixed on that, not reading between the lines when you barked, “So what if I did? Why do you even care so much?”

Eren didn’t care. What possibly gave you the impression he cared? You were a big girl, you could date whoever you pleased. You were certainly doing whatever you pleased; the only reason he was even talking to you—the only reason he was awake—was because of you, loudly stumbling through the front door in the middle of the night, unwilling to consider his perspective on the situation. 

A situation you created, by the way. Not just tonight but eleven days ago. It didn’t need to exist in the first place. The drama, the theatrics—all of it. You must have forgotten Eren wasn’t the one who dumped you. 

So in his mind, the better question was, “Why are you being like this?”

You defensively knotted your arms over your chest. “Like what?”

Eren opened his mouth, raring to sling some smart-ass comment your way, but he only stammered. He blamed it on the fact that he was torn out of his slumber and immediately thrown into the ring with you, but truthfully, he could have eight hours of sleep and a shot of espresso and still suck at this sort of thing. You know, emotions. 

Words failed him miserably. He gave up on them and waved a hand over you like you were supposed to know what he meant by it. “Weird and stuff.”

“Weird and stuff,” you mocked with a pointed scoff. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.” 

“You’re never here anymore,” he said in exasperation, “and when you are, you’re ignoring—no, you’re actively avoiding me.”

You wanted to do exactly that, to roll your eyes and stomp to your bedroom. Eren knew that. He was daring you to prove him right. 

In a way, ending a spat was much like defusing a bomb, wasn’t it? Both backed you into a corner, forcing you to make a decision on instinct alone. You’d clip a wire, red or blue, the choice was yours, and cross your fingers that it was over. You could deny, deny, deny, put it off for another day, just to see if it explodes. Or you could end it. 

You exhaled reluctantly. “I went out for drinks with Sasha. We went back to her place, got to talking, and I lost track of the time.” He matched your sigh, and you watched the sink in his shoulders. “The breakup was long overdue. I don’t think one night out would change anything between us.” 

You told Eren the truth not because it was any of his business but because guilt pitted your stomach. Yes, he was upset you woke him, you understood that. And undoubtedly, it was a part of the reason—at least why he was testier than normal, which was saying something—but hearing him now, you realized it ran much deeper than that. 

The tension in the room eased its grip on your throats. You sensed he was about to offer you some cliché, but if it would be anything like his last attempt at cheering you up, you weren’t interested. 

You beat him to it, confessing, “He dumped me because of you.”

The sentence fell to the floor with a blundering splat. You plopped this thing between you and expected him to know what to do with it. 

Eren’s eyes narrowed and flickered over you, head to toe. He took in your words, scrutinized and dissected them. Before he could draw his own hasty conclusions, you elaborated, “That’s the reason he broke up with me—why I’ve been avoiding you.”

He snorted derisively. “That’s a load of bullshit.”

“That’s what I said. But he told me I either had to move out—find a place of my own or live with him—or it was over.”

The mood shifted. Eren stared back at you apprehensively, waiting for you to go on as if you hadn’t made up your mind already—as if you were about to break your lease on the spot. He couldn’t fathom the obvious answer.

“And?” 

You exaggerated it when you extended your arms out at your sides. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

You looked and looked at him, but for once, he didn’t say a thing. You disarmed him; he tucked his hands into his pockets in his own Eren-y way of surrendering. 

“It sounds stupid, but I like what we have. I like this,” you said genuinely, even if you weren’t quite sure what ‘this’ was—your living situation, your roommate-ship, your friendship with Eren. Whatever it was, it was comfortable, and maybe it was just some lame proverb, but you couldn’t help but think: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 

You shrugged. “And I’m definitely not about to ditch it for some jealous douchebag.”

He finally cracked. His lips bowed into a small smile. “At least you can finally admit it.”

Deep down—like way down in there—you recognized none of what happened was Eren’s fault, but that didn’t lessen the blow. It became easier to pretend as if he wasn’t there, just for a while. It was irrational, it was your gut reaction, and by the time you realized how petulant it was, you were too ashamed to fess up to it. All it took was a bit of cornering, you supposed.

You and Eren were too close, apparently. That was what your ex-boyfriend believed for however long he chose to keep it to himself. He stewed on it, a simmer at first, until it bubbled to a seething boil, splattering you when you removed the lid and asked, ‘Why have you been so distant lately?’

Once the argument ensued, it was like you no longer spoke the same language. Anything you said, any explanation you gave, wasn’t good enough. To him, you were irredeemable. He had already set his mind on that ultimatum—a rather expensive one at that. 

You weren’t oblivious to the fact that some may find it strange you were in a relationship with one man while living with another, but was it that bizarre a concept? It was how the cards fell, so you made the best of it, which wasn’t too difficult, actually. 

It became clear just how long it’d been bothering him when he began to list everything you’d done wrong over the months, even going as far as to count your crimes on his fingers. Looking back, you should have stopped him there; no one needed to be with that kind of person, anyway. 

Firstly, and what appeared to be your greatest sin, was that he hated when you borrowed Eren’s hoodies; it really didn’t happen often. Eren left them thrown about the apartment, so you’d only wear them to empty the trash when it was raining or when you went grab a coffee down the street on a chilly day. According to him, he was always finding them in your room.

You could appreciate his perspective on that one, but he should have mentioned it sooner. His second reason—and this was where they started to become silly—was that he ‘always’ (he used that word a lot) heard Eren in the background when he’d call. You told him it was farfetched to think Eren’s naturally loud demeanor was somehow your fault.

Then he became more upset, ridiculing you for, in his words, being all ‘Eren this, Eren that’ about everything—another exaggeration. In your defense, if you turned to Eren, it was only a matter of convenience because he was literally across the hall. You never explained this; he didn’t give you the chance, so you tuned out his other reasons, more focused on trying to make sense of this tailspin. 

It hit you then, not like a smack across the face; it was stealthier than that. It prowled from behind in a low rumble, creeping down your spine before pouncing, taking you captive in one go. 

“Eren?” 

The mildness in your voice surprised you. You spoke his name in a quiet request, the same way you would if you needed something from him (you did). He was immediately suspicious. Still, he met your eye, acknowledging you with knitted brows. 

Whenever you needed something, you turned to Eren.

You had to choose your words carefully, but there was no careful way to go about this. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, unwittingly wetting it. “Would you kiss me?”

What you needed now was to forget. To lose yourself in his body, just for one night.

The softness in his voice contended with your own. “Why?”

He didn’t say no. His face certainly didn’t say no, either. And he didn’t draw back when you neared him. 

Sasha spent the evening encouraging you to find a hookup, telling you the only way to get over someone was to get under another. But meeting someone new was hard.

“I don’t know,” you slowly said. “Just want to.” 

Eren flinched, only slightly, when you laid the tips of your fingers on the back of his wrist. You grazed them higher up his arm, noting how the hairs stood up as you went.

“Don’t you,” you started, in an almost temptatious way, “don’t you want to give it a try? I mean, haven’t you ever thought about it?”

He sucked in a breath and his lip went with it, pinched between his teeth. He shut his eyes because he was pretty sure he was about to kiss you. It didn’t help that the sight of you was incredibly distracting, either. He still had to decide what to do, and all the while, his thoughts juggled around in his head; he couldn’t hold onto one without losing another. 

It was a terrible idea. Downright awful. Even so, it didn’t feel so bad when he felt your hand on his chest, even if it made his heartbeat hammer.

Eren opened his eyes to your face, nothing else. He took you in, from the top of your head to the very tip of your chin. Your hair was a bit out of place, expected for three in the morning, but your eyes were as bright as if it were the middle of the afternoon. Something about them was alluring, though he couldn’t pin it. They grew, bigger and bigger, until they were out of focus. Closing in, your noses brushed, and Eren’s ‘yes’ died on his lips as he placed them to yours—an answer to one or both of your questions, he wasn’t sure. 

He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you, losing his words between your lips as he asked, “Should we be doing this?”

You inched back, still extremely close, enough that your breath warmed him. “Why not?”

Eren knew you didn’t need him to break it down for you. You were Mikasa’s friend, his roommate. Someone he wanted to keep the peace with, even if you were making it difficult.

“Won’t it make things weird?”

“I thought I already made things weird. And stuff,” you teased. He shot you the unamused look you anticipated. “Whatever. You already pop a boner when you see me after the shower. Do you really think this is what will make things weird?”

Heat scorched the tips of Eren’s ears. It had only happened twice! And there was no way you knew about that. Unless you were looking for it, he supposed, but thinking about that made him more nervous.

It was that damn robe of yours. The one you only wore from time to time, the telltale sign laundry day was near. Eren had only seen it a few times, incidentally of course, just if you’d pass one another. Still, he could picture it then. It hardly counted as a robe, so frail that he was surprised anyone would spend money on it. It bordered on see-through, clinging to your body as you’d leave the steamy bathroom, into the cool hallway—

You lightly smacked his arm. “I’m just messing with you.”

He deflated in relief, but the feeling didn’t last long because you were still between his hands, sitting dangerously low on your waist. In that moment, his sense drizzled from him much like a leaky faucet: drop by drop at first, then a burst pipe. Now, he wasn’t sure there was even an ounce left. 

You batted your lashes at him. “C’mon, you’re really going to make me get off myself?”

Okay. Now he was absolutely certain any and all sense had drained from him. 

Eren swallowed hard. “Will this help you get over him? Because I’d really like to never see him again.”

Yeah, that worked. That was how he’d justify it: he was merely helping you out. Nothing more. Then things would be fixed, and everything would go back to normal. Better, even, because now he wouldn’t have to deal with your ex-boyfriend anymore. 

“Mhm,” you murmured, but desire had been lowly buzzing between your legs for the better half of the evening, leaving you fuzzy enough to agree to anything he said. Anything to keep the fire in you alive and burning. But right then, you weren’t sure if there was anything—no body of water great enough—that could douse it. You didn’t mind; you found pleasure in it because at least you weren’t burning alone. 

You went to kiss him again, but Eren dodged it with a small tick of his head.

“You just told me you liked this,” he said. “But now you’re willing to risk it? What if this is a mistake?”

He was still struggling to understand you. He always struggled to understand you, even after living with you for over a year, but this was next level. You had him dumbstruck.

Let there be no misunderstanding: Eren wanted this. He was just another twenty-something-year-old guy, of course he wanted this. It was just that he was also very aware of the consequences.  

You touched his mouth with the tips of your fingers. His lips were wet with your spit—a combination of yours and his. You pressed down, ever so lightly, to shush him. You didn’t want words; you wanted incoherency. Purposeless and meaningless sounds and syllables, groans pulled from the back of your throats. 

“If it’s a mistake, then let’s make it together.”

You invited him with a peck at first, a taste, then he pulled you back in to devour you whole.

Eren kissed the same way he lived: passionately, intensely, maddeningly. He was better at it than your ex, which you didn’t expect. The thought of what else he could do better made your stomach flip. 

His palm warmed your cheek as slender fingers wrapped around the back of your head. Like an anchor, it kept your lightheaded self tethered to him. He smelled of sleep, and he smelled like him. The heady scent coiled around you. You inhaled as you kissed him, and when his mouth dipped to the delicate skin behind your ear, you buried your nose in his hair. You imagined your face shoved in his sheets, how they’d smell the same. You’d inhale it then, too, through gasps and an agape mouth. 

You smoothed your hands higher on his chest, over his shoulders. Your nails gently scratched at Eren’s back, and even through his T-shirt, it set his nerves ablaze. 

The part of his brain demanding he pump the breaks finally shut down, his entire body thrilled by it. It was all physical, fueled by carnal desire. He acted solely on what he wanted, and that was for your lips to stay exactly where they were. To stop you now would feel like abandoning a hearth in the winter. Instead of taking his hands against your shoulders, pushing you away to create some distance, he molded them around your hips. 

You clasped your hands around his larger ones and placed them on your ass. You squeezed down on them, encouraging him to fondle you—to feel you—and he took to it as if he’d already thought about everywhere he’d like to grab. 

Mistake or not, Eren knew if he ended it now, the palms of his hands would feel hollow the second you’d left them. 

You didn’t bother debating between bedrooms and made the decision easy by heading for the couch. If you were being honest, you’d thought about fucking on this couch before—not with Eren obviously. The cushions were deep-set and roomier than most. It was evident you and Mikasa didn’t spend a fortune on it, but at least it was firm and wouldn’t give too much beneath you. You felt like it was made for fucking but respected your roommates enough not to give it a spin. But with Eren, everything was shared. Everything belonged to you and him. You could do it wherever you wished. 

Eren laid you back on the couch and positioned himself above you. You wriggled below him, attempting to make any space for him to fit between your legs. It was nearly impossible in such restricting denim. You mumbled a ‘hold on’ into his mouth as you darted your hands down for the button. He was eager to assist. Once your jeans were undone, he pulled them past your knees, freeing one leg so you could kick them off the other. 

Settled between your legs, Eren kissed you again, and you tasted the desire on each other’s tongues. His sweats did little to hide how hard, and heavy, he was against your leg. You imagined if you slipped a hand below his waistband you would find he wasn’t wearing boxers. 

You bunched his shirt in your fist. You tugged at the hem of it, lifting it out of your way so you could greedily glide your hand beneath. Tracing between the divots of his abs, you felt the way they tensed as you trailed higher up his chest. Once it was established that it wasn’t needed, Eren sat back on his calves to peel it over his head, and it was on the floor a second later. Yours was next, but it was a bit more complicated than his cotton tee. 

“What the fuck,” he muttered once he realized it wasn’t coming off. He fiddled with the strings tied around your neck, more frantic to get under the fabric with his fingers and tongue than he was concerned with being romantic. “How did you even get this thing on?”

“Sasha helped,” you relied matter-of-factly, though a bit breathless. 

Did she have to knot it this many times? 

You arched your back as Eren slipped his hands beneath you, blindly reaching for any of the ties. The straps had been digging into your shoulders all night, marking your skin with soft indentations. With every slackened string there was a sense of relief until, eventually, Eren had the shirt bunched around your midsection, your tits out. That was what mattered to him; he could figure out the rest later. 

He cupped your breast in his hand and brought his mouth to it. Your skin was supple and smooth under his impatient lips, balmy and warm from pressing your bodies together. With a pointed tongue, he flicked over your nipple. When it was perked, he sucked lightly until your breathing began to flutter. He pulled off you with a pop, thumbing over your nipple as he turned to gift his attention to the other. 

Eren’s touch was resolute, weighed down by hunger as his hand mapped its way down your side. It both unnerved and ignited you—the titillating vulnerability that came with being with someone new; how he caressed you for the purpose of exploring, seeing for himself what you liked best. 

Heat pooled in your stomach. Lapped at you like the tides, though far less tranquil. Summery waters lured you in, kept you still and contented beneath Eren, kissing him, letting him kiss you, everywhere. From your neck and the dip in the center of your collarbone, focusing the most on your breasts. Then at your hipbones next, where it tickled the most. He must have liked the sound you made, reminiscent of an airy giggle, because he grazed his teeth there, pulling the noise from you again. 

But as was certain, the tides would ebb; tepid waves turned to sea swells. Deep in your stomach, that dull yet glowy ache begged you to do something about it, your hips kneading into him, inviting him to tear off your underwear and fuck you already. 

Eren leaned back when his fingers met your underwear. He hooked the band of them with his index finger, toyingly sliding it along your stomach. On instinct, you twitched, feeling frustratingly helpless to him. You bit back a strangled murmur along with a hiss urging him to get on with it. 

Though your panties separated you and him, his eyes were still transfixed on where you wanted him most. And he knew how badly you wanted him there by the telling damp spot on the fabric.

Eren pressed the pad of his thumb to it, his other fingers rested atop your pelvis. He made soft circles against you, slow and testing. He observed every flick and flinch in your expression, his mouth slightly slacked in a smile that widened with your whimpers. 

When he finally started to remove your underwear, it revealed just how wet you were for him—for your roommate. The back of your neck fevered when you noticed the lewd string connecting you to the soaked fabric. Eren snapped it with his thumb, and your humiliation only worsened when you watched him bring it to his mouth.

He didn’t anticipate going down on you. You only wanted to get off, and so did he, and a quick fuck would more than achieve that. But as he played with your clit, your tiny moans had him craving to hear how you sounded when you were wrecked, sobbing out for more. And with the way you were spread and dripping below him—well, he wouldn’t want any of it to go to waste. Not with how sweet you tasted. 

So without hesitation, Eren dove between your thighs, gripping your hips and pulling you against the heat of his mouth. 

Immediately, you throw your head back. It bumped the armrest with a thud loud enough to catch Eren’s attention. He glanced up to check on you, and right then, you found the sight of him inexplicitly striking. You didn’t know why, but it was as if his piercing eyes had pinned you to the spot for him, like he had control despite being down between your legs. You went blind to anything but him and his eyes, dazzlingly green against the flush tinting his cheeks. 

Once he realized you were all right—it didn’t faze you one bit—Eren pressed a kiss against your clit before swiping his tongue through you. You shivered as he licked you with broad, lazy strokes of his tongue, savoring you, the button tip of his nose nudging your clit. 

“Oh, God,” you breathed sharply, chin tucked to your chest, following it with a series of heavenly moans that were anything but holy.

Eren parted you with two fingers. He added more pressure with his tongue and swirled it around your clit. You screwed your lips together rather than allowing another cry to spill from you. It bubbled in your throat, and you swallowed thickly to keep it at bay before the neighbors could learn how debauched you sounded when Eren made you come. But when he closed his lips around your clit, sucking gently, you had no choice but to bite your knuckle instead. 

Admittedly, you had wondered if he was actually talented at this or if the girls on the other side of his bedroom walls were only trying to boost his ego. He answered your inexplicit question by delving his tongue inside you, fucking you with it. 

“Don’t stop,” you rushed to choke out, your back curving up from the cushions. “I’m almost there.” 

Closer. You needed him closer.

You clung your hand to his head, raked your fingers through his hair. The useless tie slipped from it as you disheveled his bed head further. You pushed back the pieces that hid him from you, tugging as you angled him to the spot that made your thighs quiver. 

“Do that again,” Eren breathed, fanning the command over you. 

You did. He groaned, and you felt the couch shift as he rutted into it. 

Your stomach contracted, that last gasp hitching in your lungs. Whatever glorious thing he was doing with his tongue felt like fire licking up your spine. He brought you to the very brink of becoming undone until you were writhing as you teetered it. 

It was slick between your legs, you and the cushion beneath you drenched in your arousal and saliva. Eren’s mouth slipped around the more you wiggled. It didn’t matter where he held you, how deep his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, he couldn’t keep you still. At this rate, you’d fall off the couch, undoubtedly taking him with you. 

Eren wrapped his hands around the backs of your knees, pinning them to your chest in a reminder to hold them out of his way. You replaced his hands with your own, whining when you felt his fingers at your slit. He glided them between you, coating them until they slipped right inside. He dragged them in and out of you, increasing his speed until he discovered the tempo that made you pulse around him. Then he curled them, just right, aiding his tongue in driving you to your release. 

“I’m coming—fuck, I’m coming,” you whispered, ragged and hardly audible at the end.

Eren sounded equally muffled, groaning as you started rolling your hips over his mouth. You heard him mumbling, but it was distant and overshadowed by your heart thrumming in your ears. You couldn’t make out what he was saying—something about how fucking hot it was—but you felt his raspy timbre vibrating against you as you shattered. 

Your legs dropped to your sides, quivering as you rode out the final pulses of your orgasm. You closed your eyes, unable to focus on anything but finding your breath.

Eren planted a long kiss against you, easing you down with wet, open-mouthed kisses, trailed from your inner thighs to below your navel. Each sent another shock through you. He continued until you were face-to-face again. 

“How was that?” Eren asked. He was cheeky with it, grinning and everything, so you responded by flicking his bicep. 

He was still smug about it as he tilted to kiss beneath your jaw, intermittently nibbling at your earlobe. You lolled your head back, offering the expanse of your neck to him. But when you saw him reach for the band of his sweatpants, you rested a hand against his arm.

It took him a second, but when it clicked, he said, “Condom. Right,” and pushed himself off the couch.

Your shirt was still gathered around your midsection, clammy and sticking to your skin. You wriggled free of it, shimmying it over your head before you flung it to the opposite side of the room. It felt wrong to lay on the couch like this, bare and fully exposed. You thought to cover up with a blanket but reminded yourself there was no point; it’d be on the floor, just like everything else, in a matter of minutes. 

You were still lying there, fidgety and a bit limp, when Eren returned. He was rustling with the condom wrapper as he joined you on the couch. Calmly as ever, like he’d done it a million times before, he lifted your legs to make room, setting them over his lap as he sat beside you. He smirked to himself when he noticed you were shaky in his grasp. 

Eren leaned in as you rose to meet him. One of his hands supported your lower back while his other trailed up your inner thigh. His fingertips ghosted over the spots he had tasted not long ago until he was back between your legs, almost like he had never left. You melted into him with a dreamy sigh the instant he began to rub gently, placing his lips to yours as he did. 

You looped your arms around his neck. His hand left your back, and you heard the familiar crinkling as he reached for the condom.

Eren reveled in every flimsy little breath you let spill into his mouth. He tightened his circles, expertly attuned to your clit. He gauged your reaction, noticing when your lips began to stutter against his own. He felt them curve into a small ‘o’ as he picked up where you couldn’t—kissing you, sucking your tongue, skimming his teeth along it, until your angelic sounds turned depraved.

The intensity at which Eren wanted this—wanted you—surprised him. You had barely spoken in eleven days, and he spent the better of the night grumbling and bitter about it, positive you’d never want to see him again. Now, it was as if you never wanted to leave his lap, and he wasn’t sure he’d let you. He could play with your perfect pussy all night; so perfect that he had no choice but to give you a taste; how warm and wet and soft you were around his fingers; how you’d feel even better around his cock. 

Just thinking about it had him rutting into your leg, just once, in a helpless search for friction. 

Eren caught your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted you away from his lips as he spoke against the side of your face. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your face was puckered, squishing your languid and needy, “Yes.”

He angled your jaw further. “Then tell me how you want it.”

You felt his lips tickle over your pulse point. Kissing it, sucking it, nipping at it.

“Fuck,” you cursed on an agonizingly long hiss. 

“Well obviously.” Eren gave a breathy laugh. The vibrato of it echoed through you. “Look at me.” You did, as much as you could; he was still cupping your face. “How do you want me to fuck you.”

You shook his hand off, panting, “I want it rough.” Grabbing him by the shoulder, you pulled him down until he collapsed over you. You smoothed his hair back before taking his face between your hands. You wanted to see the reaction in his eyes when you told him, “Let me feel it.”

You said it as if you’d thought about it before. Eren couldn’t help but wonder if your ex did, in fact, have a reason to worry. He told himself it was a problem for tomorrow and didn’t question it again. Tonight, his only obstacle was that he was still in his sweatpants, but it was swiftly resolved when you both reached for them. 

Once they were gone, Eren sloppily licked his palm. You’d almost call it crass if it didn’t shamefully turn you on, watching him wrap his hand around his cock. His eyelashes fluttered at the small bit of release. He fisted himself a few times, unbothered by your blatant staring, before rolling the condom on. 

He had you on your back, your head laid on the armrest again. One of your legs was hitched around his waist, and your other dangled from the couch, creating enough space for him to nestle in between.

You felt him—how hard he was for you—pressed in the crease of your thigh. With a hand around his base, he lined himself up with you. The tip of his cock threatened to push inside you, but he only glided it between your folds in one slow, encompassing stroke. And just as slowly, an overwhelming warmth tingled down your spine. 

Eren continued toying with your clit. The condom’s lube and your wetness made it easy for the head of his cock to slip between you, to dip inside and tease you. But it wasn’t long before he was only teasing himself. Teeming with anticipation, you were already clenching around him so nicely, and he hadn’t even put more than the tip in. 

It wasn’t like he was any better. When Eren felt your heel dig into his lower back, wordlessly pleading with him to fuck you, he succumbed. Not with a tilt of his hips but with one plunging thrust.

Your mouth hinged open, but nothing came out. Your wilted gasp was lost somewhere in the depths of your throat. You swallowed it down before you could choke.

Caged between his arms, you were close enough to catch the slight tremble in his biceps, only once he had filled you, entirely, his body flush against your own. Above you, Eren’s eyes squeezed shut. His lips parted in a shaky, dare you say it, beautiful sigh. Thrilled, your muscles naturally spasmed around the thick of him.

Eren stilled to adjust to you; your sensitive, needy pussy wasn’t making it easy on him. Of course, you felt fucking amazing. Just as good as he imagined, but so much tighter when he split you on his cock, not with his fingers. 

He took his sweet time pulling out of you, losing himself a little more as he went, ensuring you felt every inch of him, just to bury inside you generously again. 

Eren fucked you with smooth rolls of his hips. And God, it was effortless how he slid into you, over and over, thanks to how wet you were. You scraped at the cushion as if it were a bed sheet, as if you could twist the taut fabric between your fingers to ground yourself. 

Once Eren discovered a pace that had you both breathing harder, his head dropped. You took it as an opportunity to muffle your moans, mouthing over his neck, right where it met his shoulder. You kissed him there, flattening your hands against his back to hold him to your mouth like you wanted him to smother you. 

His skin tasted salty against your tongue. If he kissed you now, you were sure you’d taste the same, the heat between you growing feverish the more you ground against each other in a sticky lust.

When the blunt of your teeth dragged over his skin, you’d argue the groan he gave tapered into a low whimper. So you did it again, harsher this time. You bit down on him, the lean muscle giving easily, and it kept you quiet enough. It did pull another sound from Eren, though. He muttered some incoherent curses you couldn’t make out, and you would have thought you hurt him if not for the way his steady thrusts sped into pounding. 

The couch was a tricky place to have sex, but you knew that already. You made it more complicated than it needed to be, forgoing the two bedrooms you had at your disposal, full-sized beds and all, and cramped yourselves onto this sofa because you couldn’t keep your greedy hands to yourselves long enough to think ahead. 

Already, this position wasn’t going to work. Half of you had slipped from the couch, even more with each of Eren’s thrusts. He’d hoist you back into place only for you—the pathetic, squirmy thing you were—to falter over the edge again. Only your ass at first, then it was your whole leg. Then the process would repeat. 

Eren sat back slightly. He closed his hands around your waist and yanked you to him, further down onto his cock.

With a yelp, your head fell from the armrest and lightly bounced against the cushion. He replaced it with your hands, pinning them high above your head with a sturdy grasp on your wrist. Your knees threatened to clamp around him, and he used his other hand to hold you open for him, gripping the fat of your inner thigh. 

“Keep ‘em spread for me,” Eren growled. “Wider.”

You liked how his voice sounded right then, almost like gravel. You’d never heard it like that, all raspy and weighed down by his lust. That and the subtle pinch in his brow gave away just how turned on he was. 

You fucked like that for… You weren’t sure how long exactly. Time was irrelevant after three a.m. anyway, wasn’t it? One particularly good thrust—his hips sputtering and grinding against you as if he could go any deeper—had his elbow buckling. Unable to hold himself up and continue his ruthless pace, he chose neither and flipped you onto your stomach.

Eren tossed you onto the armrest. You planted your forearms into it, propping yourself up. You felt his hand at the center of your back, forcing a nice bend in it for him. He smoothed it down lower, taking a handful of your ass and indulgently spreading you just to watch him disappear inside. 

Too weak to hold your head up, you let it drop between your shoulders, gritting a wakened, “Fuck—you’re deep.”

When he sank into you fully, bottoming out, the head of his cock brushed the spot that had you briefly seeing stars. 

Eren slowed at your dubious remark, unsure what to make of it. The moment he did, you made it clear, demanding, “Keep going.”

He began ramming into you, his hand still searing into your spine. You were too far gone, too focused on coming again, to hold back any longer. The noises that poured from you were pornographic. Short and breathy bleats of ‘right there, right there’ as his cock set sparks between your legs. 

Your fingers flexed and relaxed around nothing, nails piercing the meat of your palms fiercely enough to leave them tender. You didn’t know if you needed him harder or faster, and through a few choked gasps, you could only wail a pleading, “Fuck me.” 

You emphasized it by rocking back into him, smushing the back of your thighs against the front of his. It said enough.

Eren’s hands found your hips and settled into the crease where they met your stomach. 

“Let me know if it’s too much.” 

He was so casual that it almost irritated you. Whatever snippy comment you wanted to make, you kept it to yourself for the sake of getting off again. And you were glad you did because you would have eaten your words not a second later.

Eren fucked you with one foot planted into the floor, and his opposite on the couch cushion. His first thrust stole your breath; the second knocked it back into you. He took you from behind, sealing every rut of his hips by jerking you back on his cock. In the tangled spot where ‘too much’ became ‘yes, yes, yes!’ you were lost in messy throes of pleasure. 

The sound of smacking skin was more severe than even your loudest of cries. Between, you could hear Eren’s grunts and huffs through his nose, restrained, but telling of just how riled up he was to be ravaging you like this. You closed your eyes and tuned into how good you were making him feel. 

Your eyes shot open when you felt your upper body slipping over the armrest, your body lurching forward with the brutal snapping of his hips. You extended a hand to the floor, the wood cool under your clammy palm, to brace yourself. And bent over that armrest, your ass perched in the air for him, you let him have you. 

Eren didn’t let you hang there long, just long enough for the blood to rush to your head a bit. You were blinking and dizzy as he gracelessly swung you upright, maneuvering you so you were straddling his lap. You went with him, willingly and submissively. 

You lifted to your knees before Eren seized you by the waist to impale you on his cock. You gripped his biceps as a wispy moan left you—something like an ‘ah–hah’ as a loose smile tickled at the corners of your ajar lips. Once you’d finished pulsing around him, he took care of the rest, working you up and down over his length. 

He looked you squarely in the face, jaw tight and eyelids heavy with a determined look of lust. You wanted to clear the hair from his face, but before you could, you were kissing again, roughly and carelessly, with him humming as you licked into his open mouth. 

When you pulled away, you were panting. Saliva connected his lips to yours. Eren’s eyes flitted down, briefly distracted by your tits, before returning to your face.

“You look good like this,” Eren told you, his voice a bit strained. He snapped the spitty string with a flick of his chin. 

“Like what?” you tried to sass, but it came out warbled as he bounced you on his cock. “Getting fucked by you?”

“Exactly,” he panted through a smug half-grin. “Gonna think about this—you taking my cock so fucking good—every time I jerk off.”

That mental image did things to you.

“Mm, fuck,” you groaned, long and sweet, your teeth bearing down on your bottom lip. You shoved a hand between your legs. “I’m close—keep talking.”

If your head wasn’t tossed back, you would have wanted to slap the sick smile off Eren’s face. He would have never suspected you’d be into dirty talk. 

“Oh, yeah? Gonna come again?” You nodded dumbly. “Playing with yourself—whining on top of me but can’t get there on your own, huh? Need me to tell you to come, don’t you, pretty girl?”

The words were heavy on his breath and settled in the depths of your chest.

“Yes,” you breathed, rubbing at yourself desperately.

You sensed Eren was enjoying this—uttering filth to you—as much as you did, perhaps even more. His hips sputtered as they bucked into yours, as if he wasn’t already rashly pulling you against him, stuffed to the hilt. You could already see the reddened, blotchy marks this would leave on his thighs, an unavoidable consequence of fucking like animals. 

“I wanna hear you say it.”

You started rolling your hips. “I need you to make me come—please make me come.”

His cock jolted inside you, but he didn’t relent. He wanted to play with you a bit longer.

“Tell me how pretty—ah—how pretty you’re gonna look coming on my cock.”

You were right fucking there. So close that you’d do just anything—say anything. It’d spill out of you like a babbly, drooly mess of course, but you’d say it. 

“So pretty—” Your shiver reverberated through your whimper, your insides ignited. “I’ll look so pretty for you when I come.”

“Fuck yeah, you are.” He punctuated it with a firm slap on your ass. You didn’t feel it because you were coming, deliriously hard.

You sounded pitchy and whiny and you just knew Eren would tease you for it in the future. You wished you could cover your mouth, but you were too overwhelmed to do anything but hold on tighter. It hit you in ripples, and you rode out every one of them, carving your nails into Eren’s arms like you could wring out the last drops of your orgasm. 

“God damn,” Eren remarked, voice tight, “You needed that one, didn’t you?”

He was right, but you wouldn’t have answered even if you could.

When your shaky comedown finally subsided, it left you in a haze. You fell into him, hooking your chin on his shoulder. Soft, happy hums escaped you while you stayed there, contented, as Eren worked toward his own high. 

He could have come two positions ago, but he finally allowed it to well up in the deepest part of his gut. His hands abandoned your hips only for him to lock his arms around you, holding you there to fuck up into. 

Eren’s breathing began to pick up, his chest heaving against you. His thrusting turned erratic until he pumped into you one last time, deep, and kept you flush to him. It was your name on his tongue, the word he buried into your neck as he groaned from the back of his throat. 

You felt him throbbing inside you as he emptied into the condom. Gradually, he moved you over his length a few times to ease himself down. After, he started to lift you off his lap. His oversensitive cock slipped from you, tearing a tiny hiss from him. When he let you go, you crumpled to the couch.  

You stayed like that for a minute, staring at the ceiling, hand folded over your chest as you timed your racing heart. By the time it evened, Eren patted your leg and stood up.

He went to the bathroom; you knew it because you saw the fluorescent light seep into the hallway. You listened to the faucet turn on, then searched for your underwear and a blanket. 

You’d already wrapped yourself in a fleece and snuggled into the couch by the time Eren returned. Your eyes lazily followed him as he pulled on his sweatpants and double-checked that you locked the door when you came home. 

He flicked the light off, but when he realized you weren’t following him to your respective bedrooms, he turned back to ask, “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

You didn’t want to get up yet, whether it was because you were too sleepy, or because your body felt too doughy to walk, or because the thought of tomorrow now felt like a threat. 

“No,” you told him. You tugged the blanket to your nose and nuzzled into it. “Not yet.”

“Okay.”

You figured that was that, but then you saw him head to the other side of the couch. It shuddered beneath his weight as he slumped into its cushions. When you sat up to look at him, he answered your question before you could open your mouth. 

“I’ll stay here then, too,” he said cooly.

“Why?”

Eren thought on it, and though he didn’t decide on an answer, he was just as content with, “I don’t know. Just want to.”

Everything was silver in the moonlight, barely sneaking in through the cracks in the blind. All the color had been smudged away like ink, except for Eren’s eyes. You made out the glint in them as he wittily quoted you from earlier. 

You smiled. “But I thought you were mad at me for waking you up.”

“I got over it,” he said with a leisurely shrug. “Besides, for some odd reason, I’m not so tired anymore.”

You laughed lightly through your nose, and Eren tossed you a small smile in return. 

He was still shirtless—not that you minded, there was no point in modesty now—with an arm sprawled along the back of the couch. His breaths were no longer heavy, neither of yours were, but you could tell he was still cooling off from your pornstar sex because he was quick to tie his hair up again. Neater this time, with every strand up and off the nape of his neck. 

His neck.

Eren noticed the way your eyes widened. It freaked him out. “What?”

You stifled a cackle. “That’s a nasty hickey you got there, Eren.” 

He frowned. “Shit.” He started pawing at his neck, looking down as if he could possibly see it. “Is it that bad?”

“A little.” You leaned in to poke it, but he swatted you away. It only made you giggle harder as you said, “Hey, can you put on our show? The one I like.”

“You don’t even know the name of it! How can you say you like it?”

“I know it! I just—can’t remember it right now,” you said both confidently and sheepishly, if that was even possible.

He raised his eyebrow at you; you didn’t like it. “So I was just that good, huh?”

You snatched one of the pillows and launched it at his head. “I thought we said we weren’t going to make this weird!”

As you said it, Eren broke out into the sort of laughter you only heard from someone occasionally, one that made it feel like you could get back to the way things were—before everything. 

And they would, just as Eren hoped. Except now, he had a pretty good solution for the next time he pissed you off.

thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut

[ciy0]

☆*:.｡. MY ANGEL .｡.:*☆

Summary- Mingyu’s heart always had and always will belong to one girl. No matter how much she pushed and kicked him away he would always come back crawling on his knees gladly, because to him she was his everything.

Word count- 9.8k 💀💀 [say sike rn]

Content Warnings- 18+ Sexual Scenes and Vulgar Language, Angst!, Romance, Some Humor, Hurt and comfort, POV changes, Y/n is a ice queen/tsundere, Implied Foreigner, Mental health, Idol au!She is also apart of Le Sserfim, Nayeon & Mingyu date, other idols appear, Cheating mentioned, Insecurities, Breakups and Makeups, Verbally Abusive Parent, Mingyu begs on his knees, Head over heels inlove with Y/n, Cutting mentioned, Soulmate type beat, Y/n has it rough pls be nice to her, Pet names [PLS BE SAFE AND INCHARGE OF THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME]

A/n BRUH i WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS TO BE SO DAMN Long. I just wanted to write one scene i swear but then i had to make it make sense so then it jus kept getting longer and longer then i got invested oml. Anyways i used to write fics for anime’s but i retired that hat a while back, i’ve been inlove with Mingyu since forever so i felt compelled to write a fic about him bc he’s my comfort space :3

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

To many people being able to win the affections from Kim Mingyu was seen as a blessing from God and it was - atleast for Nayeon- but as her rose tinted shades slowly began to dissolve around month 3 in their fresh relationship she begrudgingly noticed many things in which she had not before (curse her attentiveness).

Finally getting to proudly proclaim Mingyu as hers within their idol friend circle was a dream come true. And to her he was nothing less than perfect, always attentive to her wants, needs, and desires and constantly showering her with boundless amounts of affection. But even she couldn’t fool herself as the new relationship smell began to waft away, and despite her desperate attempts to be as wonderful to him and he was to her one thing became painfully clear; Mingyu was not inlove with her.

Well obviously he didn’t hate her, nor did he make her feel less then. She’s sure that he had some sort of love for her since they were friends before becoming lovers but it wasn’t the kind that would lead to the house and the kids and the big white picket fence she so often dreamt about. It wasn’t the kind that she held for him.

In the beginning it was hard to tell, being so blinded by finally being able to be by his side. She had finally gained the courage to confess when he walked her home after an outing with mutual friends, ever the gentleman. Maybe it was the shots of soju at the time or maybe it was time of year where everyone wanted a lover for the winter holidays. She remembered faintly hearing a corny christmas song in the distance, probably from inside a nearby store, and the snow gently pattering on her face as they walked in a comfortable silence.

“I love you,” she whispered meekly seemingly out of nowhere. Her cheeks heated despite the cold weather as she stopped walking, eyes glued to the snowy ground. She worried maybe he didn’t hear or thought she meant as a friend but she heard a long exhale of breath from her left as his footsteps also came to their own halt a few paces ahead of her own. It was quiet for a bit, the only sounds being a distant holiday tune and the wind accompanied by snow. She squeezed her eyes shut preparing for the embarrassing rejection she foolishly set her own self up for. Mingyu always treated her well but never treated her more than a friend or different than anyone else and she knew that so why did she have to go and say something so dumb, so stupid! Was it because he offered to walk her home? Well he’s always like that it’s nothing special, ugh what if she ruined-

“… Then,” Large feet suddenly appeared right in front of hers jolting her out of her spiral of thoughts and a large warm hand rested on her cheek, gently urging her head up until her eyes met with his.

“…Are you busy tomorrow?” He grinned wolfishly with a small tilt of his head.

A few weeks of courting and cute dates led to him casually introducing Nayeon as his girlfriend at a friend’s dinner party, hands held together. It was so sudden but she couldn’t help but cheese goofily as he sat her down on his lap before smoothly joining into the rooms conversation. He’d softly caress her thigh and give her chaste kisses periodically throughout the night. She was happy, very happy in fact, happy and inlove. She finally had what she thought she always wanted and wished she could’ve lived in that bliss for forever but alas life was never that simple nor accommodating.

The first thing she noticed was the zoning out. The times when he’d be aimless staring at some spot in the room completely lost in a daze. It honestly didn’t happen too too often, a soft tap of the shoulder would instantly bring him back to her but she noticed it regardless. But one time it happened during a night of passion that often plagued her thoughts more than she’d like.

Nayeon buried her head further into the pillows as Mingyu rolled his hips languidly into hers. She gasped softly as she angled her head to gaze upon the adonis behind her only to see that far away look in his eyes again.

“ Fuuuuck,” He groaned throwing his head back,” Angel - ah sh-shit!” He shook his head as she squeezed him tightly from the endearing new petname [presumably meant for her] kicking him out of his stupor. He took a second to catch his breath, blinking in quick succession before laying his body on top of hers leaving a wet smooch on her shoulder.

“ That’s new” She moaned seductively before he drew his hips back to resume his pace from before. All he gave was a breathy laugh and more kisses as he focused on pleasuring her until she couldn’t think anymore.

She quite liked that nickname honestly, and the way he said it too “Angel”. He never called her so desperately before and quite frankly it turned her on so much— too bad she never heard it again though. Well not aimed at her.

The second thing she noticed was his chest. Well moreso his heart beat or lack there of? Whenever she was with him her chest would always be a mess of butterflies, hands shaking, breath short and yet when they’d cuddle on the couch, head pressed to his toned chest there was… nothing? Well aside from a very normal beating pattern which gave signs of life of course, he was as cool as a cucumber.

The involuntary signs of love weren’t there for him like they were for her despite kissing the ground he walked on. He never struggled to stare her deeply in her eyes, his palms never sweaty when holding hands, kisses- albeit plentiful and wonderful -never starved and desperate. She knew he’d been with many girls before her and that he was use to female attention so maybe those intense signs of love weren’t appearing because he had a lot of experience, or atleast that’s what she told herself to cope until she could no longer.

Nayeon hung out back stage as Twice just finished their performance followed by Seventeen at the MAMA awards. She giggled softly as her members poked fun at her pink cheeks watching Mingyu onstage from the TV in the break room.

Soon after they finished Super the thirteen membered group filed in the break room, mingling amongst the various groups, getting snacks and cooling down. After grabbing a bottle of water Mingyu made his way over greeting Twice along the way before wrapping his arms around Nayeon and snuggling into her.

“Ewww you’re so sweaty” She teased pretending to be grossed out when it was the quite the opposite, the sweat glistening off his caramel skin doing sinful things to her.

“Hehe hi baby,” He scrunched his nose as he kissed her cheek playfully.

They bantered back and forth amongst the low chatter in the room watching as the next group went up to perform. She wasn't quite sure when his side of the conversation had quieted down but when she looked to her side he was staring intently at the live broadcasting. She too aimed her attention towards the TV to see what had him so preocuppied.

"Ohhh Le Sserafim?" She nodded knowingly, " They're your label mates now right? They are so popular these days, I'm a big fan too haha my bias is Chaewon!" She danced a little in her seat as the point choreo of Antifragile came up in the performance, " Which one's your fav?"

She leaned her head on his chest, cheerful humming coming to a quaking halt when she felt the thundering pulse of his heart beat blaring against her eardrum.

"... Y\n" he murmured mindlessly, eyes never once leaving the Tv.

" Ohh um yeah!" she sputtered quickly trying to regain her cool, "She's a really popular member, her stage presence is really solid too for only being active for about 2 years i think its been... she's very beautiful, uh she's cool with Jihyo and Somi they hang out sometimes..."

Nayeon wanted to slap herself for the needless word vomit but she couldnt help it. She was pulling for straws, not expecting the reaction she's been trying to pull out of Mingyu to happen now of all times and apparently not because of her. Perhaps he was just tired from his performance still, maybe his was just a big fanboy - men will be men even Mingyu it seemed, perhaps she was reading all too much into it. She decided not to say anything more and just stayed cuddled up to him. He smoothly brought his left hand to her arm rubbing it gently pressing her into himself chuckling softly at her frazzled manner.

" You did well today babe, go ahead and rest for a bit" He whispered as he pressed a kiss to her hairline, " I'll be right here."

Maybe she did need a nap she thought to her self but even as she yawned sleepily she couldn't help but notice the thundering in his heart rested only when their performance finished.

But what really nailed it in the coffin was what Nayeon saw later that night at Somi’s after party, and moreso heard. It’s one thing to come to the conclusion that the man she loved didn’t love back in the same caliber as she did but atleast he chose to be with her right? Atleast he only looked at her and only cared about her. Right?? She could work with that at least even if it was one sided but there’s another level of pain when the reason his palms don’t get sweaty, the reason his eyes don’t glaze over in adoration, the reason he’s never said “i love you” back is because he’s so hopelessly inlove with another that he could hardly contain himself.

The venue was crowded with so many different faces, some known and unknown coming from various groups and companies. Owe it to Somi to know everyone. Nayeon and Mingyu were together as always, a few drinks in watching as Hoshi spoke animatedly making the group of friends laugh. It was a start to a great night after the adrenaline rush of their earlier performances.

“Oh wait! Y/n” Somi suddenly shot up running over to you as you jus entered the venue before dragging you into their circle , “Everyone say hi, Y/n say hi too!”

Nayeon watched as you smiled softly at Somi’s antics before bowing and greeting the people around you. You had a naturally alluring vibe to you that made it hard to not look away. She wasn’t a hater, you were stunning. And as she followed the harsh intake of air next to her she realized she wasn’t the only one who felt the same.

Nayeon gave it to Mingyu for trying but she wasn’t a fool. She had spent so long looking at him like he was the only person in the world that she quickly surmised he was only zoned in on one thing that night, that thing being you. You were a bit harder to read but woman to woman she could tell that you skillfully avoided eye contact in their general direction. And from the lovesick face he pathetically failed to conceal and longing gaze; this went above petty attraction.

Suddenly feeling lightheaded Nayeon excused herself to the bathroom, her mind bombarded with questions. Is he cheating one me? How do you know each other? Who is she to him? Do they have history? Is she… the reason he never looks at me like that?

She felt her eyes burn as she gazed in the bathroom mirror. She felt pathetic. It takes being in love to know what it looks like and Mingyu was looking at you like how she looked at him. Like you were his world. He was trying to hide it, desperately so, often cutting his eyes away from you if he caught himself staring for too long or boisterously jumping into the conversation to distract himself from you, giving Nayeon’s hand a squeeze every now and then but she saw through it all. And she loathed you for it.

By time she calmed herself down and made it back to the table her heart fell to her stomach seeing as the two people plaguing her thoughts were both suspiciously missing. Of course no one picked up on the disappearance act of the two but a quick check in with Somi directed her to the direction Mingyu excused himself too. With a quick thank you she followed swiftly, anxiousness pooling in her gut

Following down the hall the sounds of the party quieted until she heard a pair of new voices a little further down out on the balcony. The voices she had been looking for.

“You did amazing today, Angel”

That burning sensation returned to Nayeon’s eyes as she discreetly listened from inside. Angel. That was undeniably Mingyu’s voice.

“ Mingyu, i told you to stop calling me that” you corrected with a sigh, “ and thank you.”

“Fuck- I know i’m sorry, It’s still a bad habit,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly , “ I-I miss you, you know… I know we didn’t end on good terms but-“

“Is this what you followed me out here to say? If so i’m going back to the party-”

Nayeon heard your heels swiftly clack shocking her thinking she would’ve been found out but then they suddenly stopped. She dared to peek over to properly view you both.

Mingyu grasped your wrist firmly, brows furrowing in frustration, “ Why are you being so cold to me? Do you get a kick out of hurting me like this huh? Is that it? I know you- look at me y/n” he tugged you softly yet firmly to face him again, eyes gazing into yours desperately look for anything, “ i know you wanted to ended things with us but do you really have to treat me like a stranger, did you really forget everything, do you really feel nothing for me anymore? I still-“

“Sunbaenim,” you looked up at him icily yanking your arm from his grasp ,” This is hardly appropriate, you have a girlfriend. It’s been months, let it go. It would’ve never worked between us anyways, Nayeon is good to you don’t be reckless over a little fling”

“Fling?! H-how could you- a fling doesn’t last for over year, a fling doesn’t make love like we did, a fling doesn’t meet your family, a fling doesn’t talk about moving in and getting married in the future dammit y/n i was inlove with you!, “ his voice trembled, fists shaking by his side, “You just iced me out of no where, ignoring my messages, stopped answering my calls, and then suddenly breaking up over text?! You keep playing down our relationship as if all of it never happened. You never even gave me a proper reason, I’m supposed to hate you for casting me aside like nothing by and yet why can’t I huh? Even while you’re glaring at me like that with those big beautiful eyes all i wanna do is make them roll back.”

Nayeon couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw his knees hit the floor, You pulled at his shoulders with a curt “enough of this” but he shook you off in favor of furrowing his head into your stomach .

“ Youre so cruel Y/n, how can you show a man heaven then yank it away from his grasp like this. You’re going to drive me insane. You know I can’t live without you, you’re the one who ruined me like this and you can’t even take responsibility for it…”

Nayeon wasn’t able to see your conflicted expression as Mingyu grasped at your waist sniffling onto the fabric of your dress but she didn’t need to.

She moved to the exit as she couldn’t bare to hear anymore but she wasnt quick enough to escape the last words Mingyu whispered.

“Fuck-I…I love you so much, Angel”

Heartbreak doesn’t even begin to describe Nayeons current emotional state. She dashed home without a word, cried in the shower and then curled up on her bed in a pile of misery. Mingyu didn’t stop by to sleep over like normal that night and it drove her mad. All she got was a goodnight text saying he was gonna stay with wonwoo. But is that really where he was? Maybe he was with y/n, moaning angel [she mocked in her head] and giving her all of himself forgetting he had a whole girlfriend. So when ever he got that distant look in his eye was he thinking of her? When he moaned angel, was that what he’d moan in her ear? Was he wishing to be inside her instead? When he was backstage did his heart beat out of his chest just by the sight of her? The reason Nayeon feels like shit is all because of her.

It took her a while before she decided to respond to Mingyu. She ignored his texts and inquiries for about a week before she sent him the “we need to talk” message. She didn’t know what to expect or where to start but she was hoping that their previous friendship would be enough for him to not completely run over her feelings anymore than the whole situation had.

He came over the the next evening after his gym session sporting a grey sweatshirt and pants combo. She couldn’t tell if this was on purpose but she had to stay strong to find the answers she so desperately needed. He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek that still made her heart jump after everything that she’s heard before promptly sitting on the couch.

Nayeon sat down awkwardly across from him not sure where to start. “um do you want anything to drink? i think i have-“ she started looking anywhere but at him.

“Nayeon,” he called gently making her look up hesitantly, “ Ask me anything, I won’t lie to you.”

He looked her earnestly in the eyes and it took Nayeon a second to come to the conclusion that he knows that she knows. Before she could question how he answered for her.

“ Somi told me you were looking for me that night,” He started slowly, “ You suddenly going home, not answering your phone, and then saying we need to talk… i pretty much guessed what was up… so ask me anything and i’ll tell you everything, you deserve to know”

She felt her eyes well up in tears at his honest reply not being able to stop herself from the question she wanted to know the most.

“Did you sleep with her while we were together?!”

“ No, I hadn’t talked to or seen her for months before we got together. I don’t know how much you saw the night of the party but I didn’t sleep with her then either.”

“…Did you want to?”

“N-Nayeon-“

“ Please just a-answer the question”

“…yeah”

She felt the frog in her throat at that but kept the questions searing her heart coming.

“ How did you two meet?”

“ I heard her singing in the practice rooms at Hybe before her debut, but i first saw her physically shortly after her debut at Mnet”

“ H-how did your relationship start?”

“ I think i was drawn when i first heard her voice from way back then, when we officially met I-I wanted to get close to her and the more time we spent together the more harder it got to stay away”

“ We’ve been friends this whole time, how come i’ve never met her?”

“ She didn’t want anyone to know we were dating. So we never interacted in public only wonwoo really knew. Since we live together”

Nayeon tried to think back to around the time they were supposedly dating. She’d sometimes catch hints of hickies on his neck or him smiling at his phone but she just thought he was just fooling around and not committed to anyone. She remembered feeling severely envious though, because that was the happiest she had ever seen him. And if everything he says is true it matches the depressive episode he was in months before they got together, if that’s when she cut him off from what he said that night.

She wiped her tears feeling a bit more whole to look him in the eyes again, “ But why her? Don’t get me wrong she’s pretty and all but you’re not the type of guy who only cares about that. The way she talked to you at the party—she seems like a fucking bitch”

He actually laughed out loud at that, a soft look taking over his face, “Yeah i know, she’s hardheaded, mean, and rude but that’s just one aspect to her. She’s also creative, headstrong, caring, and sensitive… Nayeon I’m sorry,” he switched suddenly, “ I might’ve not physically cheated on you but i still disrespected this relationship and our friendship. I enjoyed our time together and i really wanted it to be you, I wanted to forget about Y/n and live a nice easy love with you b-but seeing her at the party reminded jus how far gone i am. One look and i’m back where I started” He lowered his head in his hands, “You don’t have to forgive me but please know nothing is wrong with you, you are amazing I just- I’m-“

“In love with Y/n right?,” Nayeon finished tears flowing freely at some point. She wish she could yell and scream and call him names but even now she felt his apology from the bottom of his heart. It was never her, it was never gonna truly be her.

She felt the couch next to her dip and the warmth of his embrace. She couldn’t help but fall into it, her cries tumbling into hiccups, mourning of her love lost. “S-So are we done? You’re breaking up with m-me? Are you going to her now?”

He patted her back softly, “ I don’t want to hurt you anymore, knowing i can’t give you what you want and deserve… and even though i love Y/n as i’m sure you heard she’s adamant on pushing me away. We haven’t even talked since that night… plus i’m pretty sure y/n still has my number blocked lol”

“I d-didn’t know you liked emotional unavailable girls Mingyu,” she tried to joke between her gasps, “i would’ve changed my tactics” she wailed into his sweatshirt.

She felt his chest rumble in suppressed laughter before whispered apologies into her hair. It hurt so bad but she could never hate Mingyu. You on the other hand is a different story but she knew albeit not anytime soon she’d eventually have to come to terms with this and hopefully one day her and Mingyu could get back to how they were before, as friends.

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

Mingyu left Nayeon apartment guiltily feeling lighter despite breaking his friends heart. In times like these he cursed you so much for causing all this chaos in his life and at the same time he imagines you in his embrace, whispering sweet everythings into your ear.

He threw his keys in his dish tray once reaching his apartment before grabbing a beer and joining wonwoo in the living room.

“…Well you don’t have any scratches on your face,” Wonwoo analyzed, “ So i’m guessing things went well i hope?”

Mingyu scoffed sarcastically while cracking open his can, “Hyung what the hell am i doing, something must be wrong with my head…” he pouts before taking a big gulp.

“Yeah they say love is one hell of a drug,” Wonwoo offers, “But honestly are you really okay with ending things with Nayeon, it’s safe and certain unlike Y/n”

Mingyu takes a deep breath before answering, “ As long as Y/n exists I don’t think i can truly be happy with another. I don’t know what she slipped into my food when i wasn’t looking but nothing compares. Nayeon is everything right on paper but why…. i jus can’t- It’s ugh,” he gives up and ops for his drink again.

Wonwoo ponders for a moment, “ You are a bit of a masochist,”

“Ya.”

“ So when are you gonna talk to Y/n? Makes no sense breaking up with Nayeon because of her if not to work things out right?”

“ But hyung, that’s what i tried to do at the party, literally begged on my knees and she still left me there,” he laid back in the couch as if he were in a therapy session, “ I jus don’t get it, we were doing so well. As long as we were together everything was gonna be alright, the power could be out and she’d find flashlights and build a pillow fort. She’d find the coolest art pieces and trinkets and gift them to me, she’d always be my second hand in the kitchen even if it’s jus stirring and taste testing. Everyday felt like a dream, there was never a dull time. We could literally have the time of our lives trapped in a cardboard box. We’d spend nights just drinking wine and talking about our hopes and aspirations and everything under the sun, i’d do anything to make her dreams come true and she had the nerve to say it was a fucking fling??”

Upon reminiscing he couldn’t help the tightness in his chest and on top of that the resurfacing of anger because how can all of that happen and you act as if it didn’t. No matter what you tried to paint it out as he knew it was real for both of you.

Wonwoo patted his shoulder reassuringly feeling him getting worked up again. “ Didnt everything change after she came back from visiting her family after the Le Sserafim mini tour? I remember didn’t all her members go visit her family too?”

“Yeah why?” Mingyu questioned not understanding what he was getting at.

“Try asking them, maybe they know something you don’t. I’m not judging but I always thought it was weird how she never talks about her family. Whenever you’d ask to meet them she’d change the subject. Maybe it’s got something to do with that,” Wonwoo was really wracking his brain overtime trying to find some sort of lead. He’d seen Mingyu and Y/n before all this mess and he was convinced they were soulmates then so maybe they just needed some guidance now.

Mingyu drunk in silence as he thought over Wonwoo’s words more. He remembered how scared you were when you first met his family despite his adamant affirmations that they already loved you. You were so jittery and out of your element telling him later that night you’ve never seen a family so loving. He considered his family pretty average though. He remembered the fear in your eyes when he asked to meet your family only for you to pull him in for a hot kiss purposefully rendering his brain off course. He didn’t think much of it at the time but now he’s starting to see Wonwoo’s train of thought

“I’ll try contacting Yunjin”

After asking around in a couple of friend groups he finally was linked to Yunjin’s Kakao. Despite being head over heels in love with a member in her group she had little inkling about the severity of his and Y/n’s relationship until the end that is. Normally Y/n would sneak out to his place which was why Wonwoo knew her pretty well, but her members only found out when Mingyu barged into their dorms demanding to talk to Y/n after her casual “let’s break up” text those many months ago. He had no idea how the explaining went after that but Yunjin didn’t seem too surprised at his, “Hey yunjin, this is Mingyu… do you think we could meet up and talk soon. I’m sure i don’t have to tell you to keep this between us.”

A couple hours later he received his reply.

“Sunbaenim! Ofc we should be back in Korea in a week. Cafe by hybe sound good?”

A week came sooner than one would think, his mind giddy because maybe he could finally get some progress in understanding why you left him. He waited patiently at the back of the cafe with a baseball cap tapping away at his phone. He opted to swipe through his secret gallery of pics he saved of you even after the break up, thumb running softly along the pixels of your cheek.

“Sunbaenim!”

Mingyu jumped at the sudden appearance of fiery hair as Yunjin sat down. He greeted her before calling the barista over to get her drink settled along with his.

“ How were the concerts in Paris?” He made small talk.

“ It was our first time going, it’s so beautiful there and God the food was amazing,” she spoke animatedly before squinting her eyes knowingly,” but i know that’s not what you messaged me for.”

He held his hand ups in defeat with a sheepish smile, “How is she?”

“ Honestly… Y/n-ah is normally the one who brings us all together and the glue to our group but she’s been so quiet lately which is so unlike her, “ Yunjin eyes glossed a bit, “I worry about her a lot because only few know how much she cares and how much she hurts. She never lets us in and that’s why i was so shocked that she was seeing someone but i was glad because she was so happy. Her smile really reached her eyes you know, even though at the time i didn’t know who it was and i only found out cause she left her phone in the living room and i saw the name “Nose Picker🩵” and you messaging you loved her and for her to get some rest.” She giggled softly at the memory.

Mingyu’s heart squeezed at the stupid nickname he asked her to change a million times. “ D-did she tell you anything after i stormed into your dorms, sorry about that by the way,”

Yunjin looked hesitant not sure how to phrase what wasn’t in her place to say. “Um- after you left she just got so quiet b-but that night i heard her crying and so i went over to her and held her. But she jus kept saying so many negative things about herself and repeating the things her mom-“ Yunjin clasped her mouth feeling wrong for exposing your problems like this without your consent. You explicitly told her to never talk about that night but Mingyu staring at her with desperation in his eyes was breaking her resolve.

“Yunjin what is it?! Please tell me, more than anyone i want her happiness Yunjin please,” he grasped her hands tears threatening to drop,” Please”

Orbs shaking Yunjin sighed in defeat before continuing in a meek voice ,” The other members didn’t really understand because her family speaks english but I understood…. I understood e-everything…”

Yunjin followed as you led the girls into your childhood home. That morning you were on edge but since the last touring city ended up in your home town everyone insisted on meeting your family and sleeping over that night. Yunjin was excited to see a part of you you don’t normally share in hopes of getting closer to you and bragging about you to your family.

Your family were relatively normal looking and kind enough to them as everyone gathered around the dinner table. The spread of food was vast for such short notice, not having to worry about diets since you all were on break after this was a nice bonus as well. Everyone fell into a lull of conversation but something felt strange to Yunjin. You were so quiet, just poking at your food aimlessly. To liven up your spirits she was about to compliment your parents home until your mother finally directed her attention towards you.

“What why aren’t you eating, i cooked all this food for you and your little friends the least you can do is eat it.” Your mom stated quite abrasively.

With out lifting your head or taking a moment to breathe your responded, “ I’m not hungry”

Your mom laughed condescendingly at that, “You? Not hungry, ahh come on you use to be so big when you were younger you’d eat up everything. You afraid to blow up like that again? Actually maybe you shouldn’t eat, you don’t want to look like that again right. Oh my i remember I used to be so embarrassed taking you anywhere with me. All your cousins were so small and here you were taking up so much space. It’s good you finally stopped eating so much, you’re so pretty now too! You really take after me now ya know-“

Yunjin watched in complete horror as your mother rambled on stabbing knife after knife into your esteem with no care in the world as you just sat there taking the public embarrassment. You always stood up for the girls against the strict dietary guidelines and always reassured them how beautiful they were and yet here you were, eyes listless as you absorbed everything your mother spewed like a sponge.

“-You know i was so worried about you, especially when you use to cut yourself in highschool. I mean who does that do you know how bad that made me look and you missed so many days of school doing Lord knows what. You almost got me in trouble it was so humiliating when your teacher had to visit our home, you know everyone in the neighborhood saw that. And then you randomly wanted to go to korea to become a performer, Haha that one gave me a good laugh for the longest time but hey who knew there was actually something you were good at, i’ve been spending your monthly checks at the new med spa that opened down town-“

Yunjin felt her own tears welling up in her eyes, she wish you’d say something, she wish she could say something but she was in such shock. She grew up in a loving family, albeit they had their problems but she’s never witnessed a catastrophe of a dinner like this. She glanced back at you and reached for your hand under the table but you didn’t react at all. Until the next batch of words your mother had for you.

“ And why didn’t you tell me you were dating! I was worried you’d end up alone you know, you never brought a boy home, i mean i know you were a bit chubby but atleast one boy had to have liked you,”

“…How did you know i’m dating someone?,” You finally spoke breath caught in your throat.

“It was about a week or so ago, i ran out of the money you usually send so i was calling for more which after all i’ve done for you raising and keeping a roof over your head i don’t know why you have me on such a small stipend but anyways a man picked up. His english was a little choppy but he introduced himself as your boyfriend ha! can you believe that. I was curious how he looked so i googled his name and I have to hand it to you, i don’t know what he sees in you but make sure you keep that one, he’s one hell of a catch. I bet you havent told him about your little stunt in highschool or how huge you used to be, makes sure he never finds out or else he’s not gonna want you anymore, okay honey, men like that like their women with no baggage and i want grand babies before i die, all the nurses at the hospital are always bragging and showing pictures and i have nothing to show” your mother finally finished

You were shaking. Yunjin was holding your hand so tightly. Chaewon picked up on the unpleasant vibe but knew better than to say anything. Dinner concluded, you all thanked your parents for dinner and cleaned the table before all the members packed up in your childhood bedroom for the night. When she was sure everyone was asleep Yunjin turned to you.

“Y/n-ah I’m so s-sorry,” she weeped into your side. But you didn’t say anything, you jus hummed before turning over and going to sleep.

The next morning you all packed up to head for the airport. Yunjin overheard your mom asking for more money before giving you a hug after you wired it. She told you she loved you but you didn’t reply.

“A few weeks a-after that, “Yunjin hiccuped,” is when you barged in the dorm. A-and that night Y/n-ah finally cried and she-“ Yunjin was full on bawling , “ She was saying s-so many bad things about herself a-and i didn’t know what to s-say. I’ve never seen h-her like that.

She buried her face in her hands recollecting that night. And Mingyu… he was furious. Furious for entertaining that witch on the phone, furious for not seeing sooner how far your insecurities went, his face red in anger but also guilt for being so blind. So much made sense about you. You would never fully finish your meals, you always wore such baggy and covering clothes when not on stage, you hated when he took pictures of you and you hated smiling critiquing how your cheeks spread, you always were one to listen to others venting but never partook in your own, you always talked about dreams of the future cryptically as if you’d never be around to reach them, when he tried to be affectionate with you in public you’d always slink away from him and last and not least you pushed him away in fear of revealing the bits you so desperately wanted to hide; afraid it’d affect his perception of you.

But you were so so wrong. He needed you to understand, he saw you, his angel. Maybe it wasn’t as clear in the past but he saw you now and it changed nothing. He loved you with all his being and God he really fucking needed to see you-

“-Where is she?” He demanded determinedly already packing his cup and phone getting ready to go.

“I-I don’t know,” Yunjin answered honestly,” When we aren’t on schedule she leaves her phone at the dorm and just l-leaves-“

“ What! Do you know how dangerous that is, why hasn’t anyone stopped her!” He could feel himself falling apart, he needed to see you very badly, he needed to make sure you were okay with his own eyes, and if you weren’t he needed to make you okay somehow.

“ She always leaves at the most random times, she normally gets back in the e-evening?” Yunjin wiped her red eyes for the umpteenth time.

He didn’t know what to do, he wanted to run around Seoul like a chicken with its head cut off but he had no clue where to look. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate at this rate, he felt like such an idiot, he should’ve fought harder if only he had known how deep the hurt went. He couldn’t help but curse out loud.

“W-Wait Sunbae,” Yunjin spoke up with a revelation, “I’m checking our group chat, I-I think she might’ve taken her Apple Watch, look”

Yunjin turned her phone around showing your supposed location. He looked at the map on her phone, the glowing dot was resting in a building in Myeongdong. He quickly took a screenshot of your location, thanking Yunjin before sprinting to the company car he brought with him that afternoon. He was pretty sure he spilled some of his drink and stepped on some toes on the way to the vehicle but he couldn’t be bothered to even look back.

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

To say you were surprised to receive an invitation from Nayeon of all people would be a complete understatement. You never gave her your number so it was probably received from Somi. But here you sat at a fancy restaurant awkwardly staring at each other in silence. You normally just wandered around till it got dark when there wasnt any schedules but you decided to bring your watch just in case your body goes missing. You are aware her and Mingyu broke up and you are pretty sure this invitation out wasn’t to begin a beautiful friendship with the way she was glaring at you.

“ So-“

“ I-“

You both tried talking at the same time. Cringing inwardly you bowed your head for her to take the lead.

“ You know i don’t like you right.”

Oof straight for the throat but you didn’t have much to say to that, cause you didn’t like you either.

“Yeah i figured as much,” you sipped your water, “ so why the invitation?”

“ I wanted to see for myself what’s got Mingyu so wound up,” She tilted her head scrutinizing you, “ So far i’m unimpressed.”

“ Listen if you just invited me here to take jabs at me-“

“ You’re pathetic.”

Okay that one made you roll your eyes. You gathered your purse ready to get up and leave until she continued.

“ You have an amazing man so completely enamored with your very being and yet you are stomping all over his heart. At first i thought you were just a bitch-“

You put your purse back down, uncomfortably shifting as she stared you right in your eyes.

“ I’ve been watching you ya know, you walk around like a pile of self loathing on a stick, it’s so hard to watch. I don’t know your story but I can assure you right now nothing will change how that man thinks of you. And as his friend you hurting him is a me issue now. That fool is so hard headed i’m pretty sure if i told him you murdered puppies he’d still love you” she scoffed, rolling her eyes as the waiter finally came with your appetizers.

You weren’t good at conversations like this. Well was this even a conversation moreso you were being aggressively spoken at. “Stalking is a crime you know,” you mumbled stabbing a fork into your salad.

“Is that really all you have to say? Don’t play with me, we are not friends. Do you even love Kim Mingyu?” she frankly asked with a chicken wing pointed straight at you.

“Loving him has nothing to do with-“

“ I didn’t want to have to do this but you are being so difficult,” with her clean hand she opened her phone pulling up a compromising picture of Mingyu asleep in bed with Nayeon snuggled to his side. It was clear what they finished doing before it was captured “Answer my question or i’ll keep swiping”

Your nose flared at the photo, jealousy swirled in your stomach even though you had no right. You pushed him away so you had no right to be envious but nevertheless you were. You remembered how that use to be you, losing track of what time you had to sneak back to the dorms because he was so warm and safe and so- Mingyu. Your eyes darkened as she swiped to the next photo, him sucking a hickey onto her inner thigh, looking up at her with those beautiful brown eyes. Your self esteem might’ve been in the gutter but you knew how to be shameless too.

“ Delete all of those pictures right now and I’ll answer,” you challenged staring her right back down.

She picked at some stuck chicken in her teeth with her pinky acrylic, “ Wah you’re so easy, fine fine i’m deleting them. Wasn’t that many anyways- he didn’t like me taking pics,” she mumbled the last part as she clacked away on her phone.

Once you were positive they were all gone your expression finally softened, lips parting, “I love him so much that i’m scared. I’m scared because i can take when others hurt and abandon me… but if Mingyu does… if he ever gets tired of me or casts me aside i really won’t be able to survive it. That’s the one thing i won’t be able to bounce back from. When i’m with him my heart is no longer my own and that terrifies me. Trust isn’t something that comes easy but i have no control over myself because of him. I’m used to everything blowing up in my face, always being the butt of the joke, nothing ever working out in my favor so why should i believe for once that the good that is Mingyu isn’t going to turn on me one day as well?”

“ Because it’s fucking Mingyu,” she stated matter of factly , “ Gods apology to man if you will.”

You huffed at that, finding it hard to disagree with that childish logic. After that you both jus ate in silence, probably both thinking of Mingyu to some compacity. By time the entré came out Nayeon was ready to talk again.

“ I knew he never loved me,” she sighed,” but even then he tried his hardest to. Gosh i wanna jus cry, the sex was so bomb too — i hate you so much” she pouted as she cut into her steak rather aggressively.

This time you actually laughed. A real one that touched you eyes. You held your stomach finding it hard to stop, lost in your mirth. In that moment Nayeon felt like she caught a glimpse of the Y/n he described a week ago.

You both payed for your separate meals, Nayeon left with a “I would offer you a ride but i still don’t like you” so you made your way down the street, no destination in mind, shaking your head softly at the fiasco that dinner was. You didn’t make it far before a pair of large arms wrapped around you from behind. You should’ve screamed for help if it was anyone else but you knew this embrace.

“Angel,” he whispered against your neck out of breath

“Mingyu what are you doing,”. You tugged on his arms to avail, “I was about to call the police on you, you can’t just grab people like that in- hey are you listening to me”

No he wasn’t in fact. To busy burrowing his head further in the crevice of your neck, humming softly as he pulled you flush against him. You tried to atleast to turn around in his hold but was met with a stubborn whine.

“ Mingyu, people are looking.. s-stop before someone recognizes us,” You try to shrink away from the onlookers.

He intakes your scent with a deep breathe before finding the willpower to release his limbs before dragging you to what seemed to be a parking lot. You don’t fuss much at that point letting him tug you along until you were seated and buckled safety in to his passenger seat of his car. You kept your eyes forward as he ran to his side and slid in himself. Before he moved to pull off you felt him staring shamelessly at the side of your face. Your own face starting to warm at the intensity of his gaze.

“ What is up with everyone today,” you rolled your eyes before turning in your seat to face him square on, “Care to explain to me how you knew exactly where I was? Are you stalking me too??”

His eyes were still darting around every inch of you with that silly expression on his face, “You look so nice today, did you go out to eat? Are you still hungry? What do you mean too, is someone bothering you? Also I know this nice spot by-“

You move to unbuckle your seatbelt but his hands beat you there, grabbing both your wrists in one hand. “Mingyu let me-“

“Gyu.”

“What?!” you huffed failing miserable against his hold , “ This is not the time to act cute, I’ll scream I swear I-“

This time he yanked you forward by your wrists and slot his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Instantly your body like muscle memory became liquid in his grasp no longer caring to escape him. With his free hand he held your chin between his thumb and pointer finger angling you side ways so he could eagerly push his tongue past your soft lips. He didn’t mean for things to happen in that order honestly. He wanted to make sure you were safe and okay but seeing you always scrambled his thoughts and now he’s sucking on your tongue in the parking lot getting high off your breathy moans. Lost in the nasty wet tongue kiss he subconsciously loosened the grip he had on your wrists in favor holding both sides of your face as he swirled his tongue around yours.

You cursed yourself in your head for clutching onto his tshirt pathetically as you let him defile your mouth. At the rate he was going you were gonna pass out from the lack of air and intimacy of it all. You dragged your fingertips up to the juncture of his jaw line and neck before giving a firm enough pinch. Understanding you immediately he pulled back just to give you a couple more passionate smooches, eyes low as you both watched the string of saliva slowly give way between you. It’s landed on your chin which he brazenly licked off before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. Finally done with the impromptu makeout you both gazed at each other out of breathe, periodically looking back down at each others lips.

He caressed your cheeks with his thumb softly, something he’d been dreaming of doing again for months , “Hi” Those charming canines of his flashing at you.

You didn’t have it in you to play aloof with him in that moment, not after you jus swallowed an embarrassing amount of his spit. “Gyu how’d you find me?”

“Yunjin,” He answered quick leaning back in ready for round two, tongue already sticking out but you pushed him back by his forehead.

“ …Gyu you’ve been wanting to talk to me about the breakup since it happened right?,” you closed your eyes in defeat, some of Nayeons words urging to on, “I’m giving you the chance now, so are we gonna talk and i can’t guarantee if there will be later. I know you didn’t come all the way here just to make out. ”

“Shit fuck that’s-“ he rubbed the back of his neck in shame, “I’m sorry I just got so carried away, yes we need to talk please. Can i take you back to my place?”

You sighed but nodded turning your head to focus on the road. He quickly started up the car not wanting to ruin this chance but not before pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead, hopefully you’d let that one slide just for him. You made no comment on it as he sped back to his place in silence.

Always the gentleman he kept your door on child lock so you wouldn’t get out without him opening the door for you once you reached. You couldn’t help the small smile at his childish mannerisms. Such a big baby. You allowed him to hold your hand as you both made your way to his place. Once inside you were hit with the nostalgia of his apartment, his heady scent was everywhere already making your heart race.

He locked the door behind you before getting you something to drink, “Wonwoo is out on a brand trip,” He offered once he’d heard you sit down on their couch.

You hmed at the information too busy looking all around the apartment you use to frequent. It brought back a lot of memories of the past from the chaotic cooking dates, snuggling on the living room floor staring up at the cheap star projector, to fucking like teenagers in your epic pillow fort till all the sheets collapsed around you both.

The sound of your cup of apple juice being placed down on the table took you out of your reverie as Mingyu sat down next to you. Ever the offender of having no sense of personal space, he situated him self directly against you despite the plentiful seats in the living area. You felt like you should’ve told him to move but you found yourself being honest for once; you didn’t want him to.

“So um,” he decided to break the tension, “C-can i hold your hand again while we talk?”

You relinquished your hand to him, both of you angling you bodies inwards to each other before you looked up at him waiting for him to ask his questions.

His heart compressed painfully at the sight of your big eyes but he forced himself to stay focused.

“ As i’m sure you know me and Nayeon broke up.” He waited for your acknowledgment before continuing, ” I won’t lie and say our meeting at the Somi’s party wasn’t the catalyst for alot of things but it made it clear especially despite trying to move on I physically can’t. I can’t move on from you and I don’t want to move on from you.” His thumb brushed your over knuckles, “When you broke up with me like that I wanted to be done with you, you hurt me Y/n… so so bad.”

Your eyes reflected the same glistened look as his as the guilt of carelessly casting Mingyu aside finally was catching up to you after all those months of dodging feelings. You bit your lip waiting for him to proceed.

“I just wanted to mean something to you, and when i finally was getting back to myself one look from you and back to begging on my knees like i was months ago.”

“G-gyu” you sniffled and went to cup his face in your palms. He probably didn’t even realize the single tear you were currently thumbing away at. “I- no amount of apologies will ever equate to how i treated you. But regardless I’m sorry for taking out my insecurities out on you. God knows you’ve been nothing but amazing and i still desperately tried to sabotage that all. I still think you deserve a better girl, don’t settle for me Gyu you deserve the world.”

He held onto your hands to keep your touch on him. “ I don’t care what you think i deserve, I want you. Even after everything I forgive you whether you want to be forgiven or not a-and Yunjin told me about seeing your parents-“

You sharply sucked in a breath before trying to yank your hands back to your lap but he held them firmly bringing them to his chest, “Don’t do that Y/n, don’t try to close up on me like that please. Not again, Don’t- shit angel don’t cry”

His heart broke at your vulnerable expression, lip quivering as you tried to lean away from but he wasn’t having it. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled your securely into his chest, caressing your spine while cooing into your crown.

You hiccuped uncontrollably into his chest, “ Sh-she promised she wouldn’t saying anything, she promised!”

“Please don’t blame Yunjin, I didn’t really give her choice, I just needed to know why you came back to me so closed off. Im sorry for picking up your mother’s call back then, I had no right to but Y/n don’t feel ashamed please. You are so strong, so beautiful, so worthy of everything despite what she says. My mom loves you ya know, you can share her if you’d like,” he peppered kisses across your face, “you’ll just have to marry me of course…”

You choked on a laugh between the ugly cries that wracked through you. Maybe it was the tears but your mind felt a bit lighter, “Gyu… I-I love you but i’m terrified. “ You admitted “after years of constantly being ridiculed and belittled as if im nothing i can’t help but believe it. I’m so embarrassed about having a mother like her and i’m ashamed with myself. But wh-whenever im with you i feel alive but she always finds a way to say the exact words to knock me all the way back down. For my own mother to think so lowly of me how am i s-supposed to stand proudly by your side. You are so blinding, so kind, so talented, so honest, so good; everything i’m not.”

“But to me you’re all those things and more. I’m only my best self when i’m with you, because of you. You really have no idea the power you hold not just on me but the people around you. Your mother doesn’t deserve you and she doesn’t define you. How someone can treat such a wonderful daughter like you like that still blows my mind. You deserve to be valued and praised just for existing simply because you are you. ”

By this point your foreheads were pressed together, your hiccups finally simmering down. He kissed your nose softly before wiping away your tears. “I know years of hurt can’t be done away in one night but can you promise me something Angel”

You sniffled cutely before looking up at him again , “Mmhm”

“Let me see the ugly, it’s okay if you cry, scream, yell but do it to me. Let me share your burdens, you don’t have to do it all alone. Please rely on me, it’s what i’m here for”

You wrapped your arms around him sighing into his chest. You felt so drained and lightheaded so tired but still you couldn’t deny the immense relief you felt off your heavy heart, “… You love me?” you whispered timidly.

“More than you’ll ever know,” He kissed your brow sweetly.

“Okay then… I’ll be in your care from now on” you unhurriedly pressed a kiss to his jaw before yawning,” I know there’s still so much more we have to talk about but can we talk more in the morning?”

He smiled fondly as you rubbed your eyes sleepily, nose still stuffy from your tears. He leaned down to press a proper kiss on your plush lips, “Of course my Angel,” You both gazed longing at each other a bit longer neither making the move to get up. He took the bait again and gave you a languid open mouthed kiss before whispering dreamily against your lips, “I love you.”

#mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu fic #mingyu angst #kpop fic #seventeen x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu smut #svt x reader #svt angst #kim mingyu x reader #svt fanfic #mingyu fanfic #mingyu scenarios

[twice-inamillion]

Smut (Tsundere, First-time sex, Penetration, Creampie, Breaking down, Getting caught)

After Jimmy Choo 

Chapter 233

 3,900 Words 

(Jeongyeon's first brand grand opening and her first, if you know what I mean. Jeongyeon and OC get a bit tipsy and “stuff” occurs. Jeongyeon acts like a tsundere but gets taken down by OC’s length.

Jeongyeon walks down the red carpet and stops at the black tape, turning for the camera. The flash of dozens of cameras go off, capturing the beauty of Yoo Jeongyeon. 

You stand from afar and watch Jeongyeon pose and act properly in front of everyone. Internally laughing at how professional she is being compared to how she is at home. 

Out of nowhere you noticed a hooded person with soccer sweats and a large camera taking pictures of Jeongyeon. “Is that a sasang?” You walk towards the direction of the person who covers their face with a hoodie and mask and grab their shoulder, “Can I help you with something?” 

The person flinches and turns around, “it's me.” You're surprised to see Nayeon in a disguise and say, “What are you doing here?”

“Just here to show my support and take some funny pictures.”

You can’t help but chuckle and say, “Alright, good luck.” 

You leave and go back to your position until Jeongyeon walks back to the store to look around at the merchandise. “Good job with the press.”

“Thanks. What is next on the schedule?”

“Well, you have an hour here, and then a get-together at the venue next door for a few more hours.” 

“Fuck, I'm tired already. Want to go home.”

“Hey, keep it down. People are going to hear you.”

“But…”

“How about this: you relax and do well, and I'll buy you something to eat.”

“Better get that wallet ready because I'm going to empty it out.”

“That's only if you behave.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

The day goes on without a hitch and get positive feedback from the event staff about Jeongyeon's engagement throughout the day. 

Once the event is over, Jeongyeon changes shoes and steps out of the changing room, “All right, let's go. I'm hungry.”

“You're not going to change outfit?”

“Nah, they said I can keep it, so I'll just wear it. Let's go. I have a place in mind, so prepare your wallet.”

“Just nothing too expensive.”

“You said you were treating me to a meal and said nothing about cost so get ready to drop some won.”

“Fuck, alright. Let's go.”

Jeongyeon gives you directions to the place, which is a mom-and-pop restaurant that serves some good drinks and a variety of meats. The server comes up and asks for the number of people in the party. “Just two,” responds Jeongyeon, and are immediately escorted to a table.

Once seated, Jeongyeon doesn't waste any time to grab the menu and look at what they offer. She orders multiple side dishes, different cuts of meats, and a couple of drinks. 

“You're going to break my wallet!”

“That's on you. You're the one who invited.”

“Alright, it doesn't happen often, so I might as well.”

The food arrives, and the two of you begin to dig in. After paying the bill, Jeongyeon convinces you to go to a bar after calling you a lightweight. She orders a few beers, soju, and vodka. 

It doesn't take long until she begins to slur her words and get a little touchy, “oppa, why are you so hardheaded?” Jeongyeon rubs your thighs and puts her head against your shoulder. 

“Jeongyeon, I think you had enough to drink. Let’s call a cab and head back.”

”I don’t want to. I can still drink a bit more,” as she tries to pour herself another glass of soju.”

“No, I think you had enough. Let’s go.”

”Noo. I don’t to go back. You can go if you want, I’m going to stay.”

”Come on, you’re going to get hurt or draw attention to yourself.”

”Why do you care? I don’t belong to you. Just go.” 

Jeongyeon can be a good drinker, but mixing different drinks isn’t her forte. You pay the tab, get her belongings and help her walk towards the exit. “I’m going to call a cab.”

”No, it’s too expensive right now. My sister’s place is nearby. We can stop there for a bit.”

”Are you sure?”

”Yeah, she’s away on a trip for a few days.”

”Okay, where is it?”

”Umm, a few minutes away, that way” as she points towards with her finger. “Alright, lets go. Just let me know.”

”Take out your phone.”

”Okay.” You hand her your phone, and she opens the navigation app and voices her sister’s address on your phone. “Here, that’s easier.” 

You hold your phone out as you help her walk to her sister’s place. It only takes a few minutes for the both of you to arrive. “This is her place. Let me insert the pin.” She struggles inputting the pin with her fingers missing the keypad.

”Let me do it. What’s her pin?”

”Oh, it's my parent’s wedding date.” 

You insert the pin, and the door opens. Jeongyeon walks towards the living room couch and lays down. “Jeongyeon, try to change your clothes and get some rest.”

“I don't want to, I'm too lazy.”

“Come on, you can't sleep like that.”

“Fuck, alright. Damn, you're so annoying!” 

“Hey, I'm just doing it because I care, but if you don't, then forget about it.”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.”

“I'm just doing it because I care.”

“If you care then come help me stand up so I can change.”

You give Jeongyeon your hand and help her walk to her sister's room to grab some clothes. 

She looks at herself in the mirror and tries to get herself together after a night of drinking. She's tippy but not drunk enough to need your help and is just playing the part of a defenseless girl. “It's now or never,” and smacks her face.

She exits the bathroom and heads to the living room, where you are on your phone. She grabs the remote, selects a movie, and plays it. 

“Isn’t it kind of late to watch a movie?”

”Not sleepy. Want a snack?”

”Sure.” 

Jeongyeon heads to the fridge, grabs an ice cream bar, and hands one to you, “Here.” She grabs a blanket and uses it to cover herself as she lays on the couch. 

“What are we watching?”

”Just shut up and watch the movie. Dang, you and all your questions.”

You tell yourself that if Jeongyeon wasn’t drunk, you would have slapped her in the back of the head. Sometimes you don’t understand why she can be cool and rude at other times, you just can't read her. 

The movie plays, and you try to watch it, but after a while, you begin to fall asleep on the couch. Your eyes feel heavy, and you turn to Jeongyeon, seeing her completely invested in the movie. With your arm resting on the couch, you use it as support and decide to close your eyes for a bit.

Suddenly, you feel a weird sensation on your crotch but don’t pay too much attention to it. Only a few moments later, you feel a hand rustling inside your boxers and grabbing your cock. You turn around and see Jeongyeon sitting next to you with her blanket covering the both of you, “What are you doing?”

”Nothing.”

You lift the covers and see Jeongyeon's hand inside your pants, grabbing onto your limp cock.”

“Jeongyeon, stop.”

“What. I just wanted to take a look.”

“Come on, right now it’s not the time, you're drunk.”

“I'm not drunk. Plus, it seemed like you needed a bit of help. You should be grateful I'm touching that nasty ass cock.” She continues to stroke your shaft with her hand, slowly.

Jeongyeon pulls the covers, giving you a glimpse of her hand in your pants. She looks at you with a smirk and pulls out your cock. “What a disgusting-looking cock. It's all limp and nasty-looking. I bet you can't even hold a boner.”

Trying to prove her wrong, you imagine yourself flipping Jeongyeon over and fucking her without mercy. This wild type of thinking makes you fully erect. “What about now?”

“Eww, it's so veiny. I don't understand why the girls are so into that cock of yours.” 

“What the fuck, Jeongyeon. Why do you have to be such a bitch?”

You can see her expression change, and out of nowhere, you see her hand swing at you and towards your face.

“You think you can hit me?” as you catch her hand midair. She tries to go for another swing, but you dodge it. “Haha, what now? You can't even hit right.”

“Fuck you,” and you feel her spit on your face. “What the fuck!”

You see her smirk, making you lose your patience. With a firm grip, you grab her hands and pin her down on the couch. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson or two.”

“And you think that's you? What do you think you're going to do, fuck me?”

“That's what you want, huh? Someone to fuck the shit out of you.”

“Haha, don't think you'll be able to satisfy me at all.” 

“Fuck you, let's see if that's the case,” you pick her up like a rag doll and carry her to her sister's room. She tries to fight you by smacking your chest, but you just toss her into the bed and begin to remove your clothes. All she does is watch as you get completely naked. 

Jeongyeon then tries to get away, but you grab onto her oversized shirt and rip it off, “What are you doing?”

“I'm going to fuck the shit out of you,” as you focus on her shorts. With one firm grip of your hand, you pull her shorts down, exposing her bushy cunt.

“Haha, nice bush.”

“Fuck off.”

Her shorts get tossed to the ground, and you spread her legs wide open. Jeongyeon tries to cover her cunt, but with her hands but they’re pinned down, all she can do is watch as you glide your fingers against her nicely trimmed but full bushy cunt.

You can see her eyes get watery from the position she is in so you go in for a kiss. Jeongyeon is surprised by the sudden kiss and doesn’t know how to react, but her heart begins to race. She tries to fight you off, but with your weight on her, it’s futile and just watches as you explore her mouth with your tongue. 

After what seems like a minute or two, you pull away from her lips and give your attention to her cunt. You grab your semi-hard cock and smack it against her pelvis, then glide it across her nicely trimmed but bushy cunt. “Fuck, that feels so nice. Didn’t know you liked keeping yours like this.”

”Shut up. It’s not like I knew you were going to do this. Just put it in already and get it over with,” she said as she tilts her head to the side. 

“Don’t play dumb, I know you want this cock” as you slap it against her cunt. 

“Do you think I want that nasty thing inside me? Haha, you must be crazy.”

With your cock in hand, you trace it against her folds and feel a slight wetness, “Don’t think your body agrees with you. It wants me to put this thing right here, inside.”

”No, you’re wrong.”

”I guess you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re too uptight. Momo and Chaeyoung were right; you’re such a scaredy cat,” as you turn away.

”What did they say?”

”Nothing much, just that you don’t make up your mind and are probably the last person to find a partner with your attitude. They said something like you’re going to be an, “Old cat lady” and alone your whole life.”

”Take that back.”

”I didn’t say that; it was them. But I think they might be right.” You pull up your boxers and button up your pants, ready to head out.

”Wait.”

You turn around and see her position herself against the bed with her legs wide open and her fingers spreading her lower lips.

”No, you lost your chance.”

“Why not? You legit were going to do it a few minutes ago.”

“I’m not going to be your toy to get at the others because your ego took a hit.”

”Please, all you got to do is just put it in.”

”I don’t just “put it in” I’m not a dog.”

”Alright, screw you.” 

“You know what, since you want it that bad, then I’ll do it, but you’re going to owe me a favor.”

”What do you want?”

”Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you know when the time arrives.”

You unbutton your pants and toss your boxers to the side. Jeongyeon stares at your member as you climb on the bed and lay on it. “Alright, there you go.”

”What do you mean?”

”Since you want it that bad, then put it in yourself.”

”It’s not that I want to, I’m just doing it because of what they said.”

”Yeah, tell yourself that.” 

You get yourself comfortable and cross your arms behind your neck, “It’s ready when you are.” Jeongyeon glares at you and says, “Get that smug look off your face.”

”Why should I? I’m about to get some free pussy tonight.”

”You’re such a pig. I don’t know what Jihyo sees in you.”

”Hey, if you don't, then just find someone else,” as you try to get up.

”No!,” pushing you back to the bed. “Just shut up and I’ll do everything.”

You nod and watch Jeongyeon get her thoughts together as she tries to mount you. She grabs your cock and gives it a few strokes. Her strokes have no rhythm, and you can tell she’s nervous, which makes it even better for you. After a minute or two, she says, “I’m going to put it in.”

”Wait, let me get my phone.”

”Why do you need your phone?”

”I’m going to record it.”

”No! Don’t!”

”Well, you want have evidence to show the girls and prove them wrong, right?”

Jeongyeon freezes and contemplates if recording is the right choice but then remembers the videos on her phone. “Okay, just let me see it when it's done.”

”Yeah, no problem.” 

With your phone in hand, you get a perfect view of Jeongyeon on top of you. She grabs your cock once more, lifts herself up and aligns your member to her entrance. “Rub the tip against your folds, it feels much better.” Without saying anything, she traces her lower lips against your tip, coating them with each other’s nectar. 

Once she covers your whole tip with her nectar, she positions it at her entrance. She lowers herself slowly, inserting the tip inside her cunt. Little by little, she takes more of you, and you can feel her walls spreading from your girth. 

“Ahh, so big.”

Jeongyeon stops with only two inches inside of her and tries to collect her composure. 

“Why you stop?”

”It hurts. You’re much bigger than my toys.” 

“Haha.” 

She covers her mouth, realizing what she just said. “I didn’t mean that, I’ve had much bigger than you.”

”Oh, really? Prove it. Take it all in at once.”

”I don’t want to.”

You set the phone on the nightstand with a good bed view. “Want me to help you?” 

“No, get your nasty hands off me!”

Her constant name-calling and degrading you when you’re just trying to help her out, you realize that this is the last straw. You need to teach her a lesson and show her who’s in charge.

“Know you what Jeongyeon, I’m tired of your shit.” 

“ Wait, what are you doing?” as she sees you get up and suddenly flip her over with her back against the bed. 

“Remember, I said that I was going to fuck the shit out of you.”

No, please. I’m sorry. I take it back.” 

Her pleas go through deaf ears as you align your cock to her entrance. You can see her reaction change when she realizes what you are going to do. “Wait!” In one go you slam yourself into her, violently shoving your whole cock to the deepest part of her womb.

”Fuck! Fuck! You dumb ass, it hurts!” complaining about the pain. She tries to push you away, but it's no use; you’re going to have your fun. 

"Pull it out!"

"I don't want to."

“Please wait, let me catch my breath, at least.”

Just like before, you ignore her pleas and instead start to thrust rapidly. She grabs onto your arms, digging her nails into your skin. Her nails sting, but know it's nothing compared to what Jeongyeon is going through, so you bear with it. 

“Please, you’re going too rough; just slow down.”

The only response is the sound of flesh slapping against each other, her walls getting stretched by your massive girth. You keep on thrusting, switching from a rapid pace to a slow one and repeating it over and over again. 

It doesn’t take long for Jeongyeon to reach her climax, her walls almost choking your cock. “Ahh, fuck! I’m cumming!”

Jeongyeon cums on your cock, arching her back and spasming uncontrollably. You all can do is hold her tight for a few seconds before fucking her again. Jeongyeon’s eyes go wide as she feels you thrust your cock inside her clenching insides and apologizes to you for being mean to you and begs you to stop and let her finish her orgasm. 

“Please, I’m sorry.”

”You don’t mean it.”

”I do.”

”I don’t believe you.”

Instead of stopping, you increase the pace, making Jeongyeon realize that all she can do is try to keep whatever sanity she has left. 

After some time, you feel a sense of hotness in your core, knowing that you’re about to cum soon. You want to see Jeongyeon’s reaction when you give her the news. 

”Fuck, Jeongyeon. I’m going to cum soon.”

”Ah ah... just make sure to pull out.”

Instead, you switch positions and place her in a mating press. “What are you doing?”

”I want to make sure you get a good view when it cum inside you.”

”Wait, what?”

”Don’t play dumb. You heard me. I’m going to mark that womb of yours. Maybe you’ll be less of a bitch if I fill you up.”

The thing you don’t realize is that she actually wants you to cum inside. That’s all she’s ever wanted, to feel her womb get filled by your thick cum like the rest of her members. She wanted you to fuck her this whole time, but her tsundere personality doesn’t allow her to show her actual feelings. 

She watches as you pin her down and spread her legs even wider to get a better position. Her heart beats faster and faster as you shout that you’re about to cum. 

“Take it out, don’t come inside!”

Those are fake words that she says, but inside her head, she says the complete opposite and begs you to fill her to the brim.

”Fuck, I’m going to claim your womb as mine, so take my cum, you annoying bitch!���

”Ahh fuck! What are you doing? It's so hot!” unknowingly wrapping her legs around your waist but saying the complete opposite to her actions. 

Jeongyeon’s head goes crazy with what she is feeling, her neurons firing the fastest it's ever been. She finally understands why the rest of the members enjoy the feeling of getting her womb pumped with your baby batter. 

“You’re going to ruin me!” and bites your shoulder.

”Fuck!”

”Haha, that’s what you get.” 

You pull out and check touch the area where she bit you, but it isn’t too bad. You then focus your attention on Jeongyeon and see her gaping cunt, oozing out cum. 

“Fuck, you look hot covered in my cum” teasing her.

She rolls her eyes, “Shut up. I told you to pull out. Look at the mess you made,” pointing at the cum dripping on the sheets. You grab the camera, position it before her, and take a shot of your work. 

“What are you doing?”

”Taking a picture. Nine out of nine, check. haha.”

Jeongyeon gives you a disgusted expression when she realizes what you meant and throws a pillow at you but dodge it. 

“How about another round? I’ll pull out this time.”

”Do what you want. What’s the point of pulling out if you already came inside of me” and spreads her legs open. 

"Turn around and get on all fours, I want to fuck you from the back.” 

Like someone who has accepted her fate, she does as she’s told and gets on all fours. She buries her face onto the pillow and spreads her cheeks, giving you a good view of her holes. 

You align your cock to her entrance and smack her ass, causing her to yelp from getting caught off guard. 

“I’m going to fuck you all night, so make sure to keep up.”

She bites the pillow and makes a face of pure euphoria as she gets her insides rearranged. The two of you end up doing it for hours until she passes out of exhaustion and with a smile on her face. 

You head to the livingroom and get something to drink as you go through your phone and look over the videos you’ve made with the rest of the members before going back to sleep. 

---------

The next day you get woken up and see Jeongyeon on top of you with your cock in her hand and aligned it to her entrance. To your surprise, she seems different from usual, happy, you might suggest. 

Obviously, you wouldn’t say no to some morning sex and just let Jeongyeon do her thing. She slowly inserts the tip and waits a few seconds before dropping her whole weight on your cock. 

“Fuck, so good,” and begins to ride you in a hard but steady manner. She places her head on your shoulder, letting you hear her heavy breathing. 

You close your eyes and whisper in Jeongyeon’s ear all the things you did last night. The more you say, the tighter her walls clench on your cock, and the more sure she gets into a good rhythm. 

Unbeknownst to you, someone was making their way back home after being away for a few days. She unlocks the door and can’t think of anything but to take a nice shower and take a nap after a busy week. She notices that her house is off but can’t find what it is. She then looks down and sees a pair of shoes she’s never seen before and her younger sister’s shoes next to it. 

Seungyeon walks around to see a blanket and some clothes on the couch. She has a vague idea of what occurred and smiles. Seungyeon slowly makes her way to her room and hears moaning coming out from the other side of the door. She takes out her phone and, quietly turns the handle, and sees her sister in the nude on top of some. 

“Click. Click.” 

Suddenly, Jeongyeon turns around and sees her sister standing at the entrance with her phone and flash on. 

“Unnie!” 

“Surprise!”

#twice smut #kpop smut #male reader #twice fluff #kpop fluff #twice jeongyeon #jeongyeon smut #yoo jeongyeon #jeongyeon #jeongyeon Yoo #kpop male reader #kpop reader #kpop idol smut #kpop x reader #idol x male reader #girl idol smut #reader x idol #idol x reader #idol smut #defloration idol smut #defloration smut #g idol first time smut #TM smut

[serasvictoria]

Title: The Boy Is Mine (Mar’s edition)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: A romantic night in doesn’t go exactly as Eddie had planned.

Word Count: 3.312

Warnings: Established relationship. Insecure Eddie. Hurt/comfort.

Notes: Written for @carolmunson’s The Boy Is Mine Writing Challenge (you can find the rules here). Super late entry and it feels like I’ve been working on this for months, but it’s only been about two and a half weeks. Anyway. Here it is.

At least I can finally read the other entries now so that’s the rest of my weekend sorted.

Not beta-read so if you find any mistakes… those are all mine.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Eddie promised you the night before. “You can just put your feet up, or on me if you want, and I’ll obey your every command. I am but your humble servant.”

It had been one month since you had moved in together and Eddie had insisted on doing this for you since he felt that he had been difficult to live with. Naturally you had disagreed with that assessment, but he had been adamant.

Every time that you walked into the bathroom and he had left the toilet seat up, he would apologize like it was the worst thing in the world. It didn’t matter that you kept telling him that you didn’t mind and that it was no trouble at all, he’d still apologize and dart around you to right the wrong.

Same thing happened when you found the odd sock in a place that wasn’t the laundry basket. Or when Eddie hadn’t used a coaster.

Ridiculous and tiny things that were easily overlooked and ignored. Nothing that would be able to ruin your day so you never called him out on these things, because you genuinely didn’t mind. It didn’t stop him from insisting that he was an awful boyfriend and promising to do better though.

Sure, living with Eddie provided some challenges, which was more down to this still being very new to both of you, but nowhere near as many as he himself seemed to think.

For now, you were eager to find out what he had in store for you. Eddie had been incredibly secretive about it and had offered up no clues whatsoever. The only things that he had said were that it was going to be cheesily romantic and that he would surprise you.

You had been looking forward to it the entire day and were positively buzzing as you parked your car next to his van. Work had been hectic this past week and you had been fast asleep at around eight every single evening.

Thankfully today had been relatively quiet so you had been able to leave early. Maybe you should have called to let him know, but you had completely forgotten in your excitement.

When you got out of the car, you could already hear Eddie swearing inside the trailer. The volume only increased the closer that you got and you could only silently apologize to your poor neighbors.

It made you giggle to hear him swear like a docker on the other side of the door. You could only guess as to why it was, but still tried to keep your face as passive as possible when you finally opened the door to see what lay within.

Nothing could prepare you for what was on the other side however.

The kitchen looked like a bomb had exploded in it and Eddie was standing right in the middle of the chaos with a pink flowery apron that had once belonged to your grandmother over his usual black outfit. It looked both ridiculous and endearing.

There were eggshells on the counter and the contents of said eggs were dripping down it. There were white footprints on the floor, because your boyfriend must have stepped in what you assumed (and hoped) was flour. And then there were the white globs of something that looked like frosting that were everywhere, including in his hair.

“Eddie?” Upon hearing your voice, he turned around with a horrified expression on his face since you had caught him in the act. The spoon that was in his hand clattered to the floor loudly. Whatever was on it spattered onto the floor and also left debris on his socks and his jeans. You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Oh fuck.” Eddie rubbed his hands on the apron, leaving white smudges in its wake. “I thought I had another hour at least.”

Very calmly, you took off your shoes and hung your coat and bag on a peg near the door before walking closer to survey the mess that your boyfriend had made. Somehow it was even worse up close and that was saying something.

There was a mixing bowl on the counter, which seemed to be the source of the mess, with a hand mixer next to it. You could picture him using the highest setting only to have the contents end up all over the place.

“I got to hand it to you, I’m definitely surprised,” you eventually managed to get out whilst desperately trying to suppress your giggles.

“But not exactly in the right way,” he admitted as he rubbed the back of his neck. “In my head, you would come home after I cleaned everything, with the table set all fancy, so many lit candles that it would be a fire hazard and with some sappy record playing.”

“That does sound nice.” There were paper molds with batter in them right behind Eddie, which he was unsuccessfully trying to block from view. “Shame that I got home a bit earlier.”

“You could always leave and pretend that you’ve never seen this.” That’s what finally makes you laugh and since you had been holding back for a while, it didn’t take long for your eyes to well up with happy tears. It made him crack a smile, too. “Which you’re obviously not going to do.”

“Course not,” you replied as you wiped your eyes. “And honestly, as much as I appreciate this,” you gestured around the messy kitchen and then at Eddie himself, “you need to take a shower.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna-“

“No,” you interjected simply and when it looked like Eddie was going to argue, you simply pressed your pointer finger on his lips to ensure that he kept silent. “No.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he mumbled against your finger. “This was supposed to be about you.”

“And I love it.” You pressed a kiss to his frosting stained cheek and could taste the vanilla. When you pulled away, his thumb wiped over your lips to clear the residue that was stuck to it away before sticking it into his mouth. “But I also like you clean and you are, and I’m sorry for saying this, a mess right now.”

“Thought you liked that,” he retorted with an accompanying wiggle of his eyebrows.

“I do yeah, but not when you’re covered in raw eggs, flour, cake batter and frosting.”

“Okay, okay, point taken,” he sighed deeply as he held his hands up to indicate that he was going to let it go. For now. “But I could always leave some of the edible bits on so you could lick them off later though,” he added with a wide and naughty grin.

“Absolutely not.” You pushed him out of the kitchen and in the direction of the bathroom. “If you want me to eat stuff off you, buy some Cool Whip.”

“Kinky!” Eddie laughed when your hand came down on his ass to give it a firm squeeze before he rounded the corner. “I’m not forgetting about that by the way,” he called out before closing the door behind him.

“Didn’t think you would,” you answered.

Part of you already knew that he’d run out to buy some the next morning and that at one point during the day you would end up finding him in the bedroom with the stuff lathered all over himself. You made a mental note to remember to put either a towel or a box of tissues in the bedroom tomorrow just in case, because you had a feeling that things could get messy.

But that was a problem for later. You had to deal with something else right now.

The kitchen was such a mess that you barely even knew where to begin, but the first thing that your eye fell on was a small notebook, one that Eddie always had on him, folded open to a page with a recipe that was written in handwriting that was much nicer than Eddie’s was, not to mention legible.

Chocolate cupcakes with vanilla buttercream frosting.

His little notebook was a closely guarded secret, something that your mortal eyes would not be able to comprehend (his words right before he had shielded it from you by holding a throw pillow in front of it). He used it to jot down notes for D&D campaigns, ideas that he got for lyrics, or whatever else that came to mind that he judged important enough to write down, so the fact that he used it for a recipe that he had procured for you was pretty meaningful.

This was quite possibly the sweetest thing that he had ever done, going through all this trouble for you by doing something that was completely alien to him, since he didn’t think that he was much of a cook. It wasn’t that he didn’t do it, it’s just that his repertoire seemed to be limited to heating up canned foods.

Lost in thought, you had barely even scratched the surface in concerns of the mess that Eddie had made, only managing to put several things in the sink and getting rid of the eggshells, when he reappeared again in a pair of black sweatpants with an old Iron Maiden shirt. If it wasn't for his wet hair, which was soaking the fabric of his shirt, you might have been inclined to think that he hadn’t washed himself at all.

“Did you just stick your head under the tap?”

“No. I took a shower, just like you asked.” He stepped in close enough so that you could smell the soap on his skin. “I just didn’t want you to clean my mess.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You always say that,” he groaned with obvious frustration. “Just let me do it.”

“We can do it together.” You held out a wet cloth to him, which he was eying reluctantly, simply because he felt that you weren’t supposed to help clean up the mess that he had made. “Is that a good compromise?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ for emphasis. “I insist.”

“So I basically have no choice.”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay, whatever.” Seeing that he had lost the discussion, he admitted defeat and finally took the cloth from your hands. “Help me clean then.”

Cleaning together was a lot faster than if he had gone at it alone and before you knew it, all the surfaces were wiped clean, the dishes had been done and were drying in the dish rack, and most importantly of all, the cupcakes were finally in the oven.

“See? That didn’t take too long, now did it?”

“You weren’t supposed to help though.”

That much was kind of made clear to you while the two of you were cleaning. There were little looks that Eddie threw in your direction, whenever he seemed to think that you weren’t looking, that seemed to indicate that he was less than pleased with your help. His expressions were also somewhat… pained at times? It didn’t make a lot of sense and only made you think about why he was even acting like this to begin with.

“I genuinely don’t mind. I wasn’t going to sit and watch you clean, you know that.” You took his hand, pulled him along in the direction of the couch and gestured at him to sit. “Now. What’s this about anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie immediately started fidgeting, even more so than usual, and his leg started bouncing anxiously. “I was trying to do something nice for you.”

Something was obviously bothering him. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate that he had done all this, because you really really did but there was a reason behind this and you’d keep picking at him all night if you had to.

“Excellent deflecting. I’ll get it out of you somehow,” you replied with certainty.

Leaving him on the couch, you stepped back into the kitchen to check the oven and to get something to drink. Eddie had even splurged on the soda by buying something that wasn’t store brand and therefore cheaper. It was amazing how he had managed to plan all of this without giving anything away.

“We appear to have run out of nice cups.” Instead you held up a red plastic cup that you found earlier in one of the cupboards. “So is this okay?”

“We don’t have any nice cups,” he replied without missing a beat.

“How dare you,” you clutched at your chest, pretending to be aghast at his statement. “That Star Wars cup is the best thing that we own.”

“Oh yeah, of course it is.” He rolled his eyes when you mentioned your favorite cup. You were always waving it in his face whenever you needed a quick laugh. “You’re just saying that because you have a thing for Han Solo.”

“You’re just jealous that they didn’t have one with Leia on it.” You handed him his drink and settled in next to him on the couch. Nudging your shoulder into him, you asked, “Now, tell me, why did you do all this?”

“Is it a crime to want to do something nice for you?”

“No, of course it’s n-”

“So why are you interrogating me?”

“Because I know you.” 

Eddie avoided your gaze and ran a hand down his face, because of course you’d be able to tell. He knew that he should have thought up some convincing excuse beforehand, but it was too late for that now and the chances that he’d successfully make up something on the fly were practically nonexistent.

Silence fell and for a second there, you thought that he wouldn’t tell you at all, that he would end up brushing it off, as if he was embarrassed to tell you the real reason, which was simply ridiculous. So what was it?

“I wanted to impress you,” he finally admitted softly and pulled you out of your train of thought. “Just once.”

His confession bewildered you and you genuinely didn’t know what to say. You had no idea that he had even felt this way, but you obviously needed to mend this situation since your actions seemed to have inadvertently caused this.

You liked taking care of Eddie, perhaps a little bit too much, and it seemed to have caused him to think that you didn’t need his help at all, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“Eddie, that’s not- hey, look at me.” You cupped his face with your hands until his sad eyes, which were usually filled with so much warmth, finally focused back on you. “I’m already impressed.”

“You’re always looking after me, but I don’t do much,” he sighed dejectedly. “And I’m like the worst cook ever.”

"Aw, don't be like that. That’s not even true," you declared. “Your cooking is fine.”

“Don’t lie.”

“No one can make SpaghettiOs better than you can.”

“Ha, ha.” He tried to sound annoyed, but missed the mark completely when he (accidentally) laughed in earnest. It made him clear his throat in a very poor attempt to hide it. “Very funny.”

“Still made you laugh.” You poked a finger into one of his dimples until he jerked his head away with an even bigger grin than before. “I always like it when you make me breakfast.”

“That’s nothing special,” he shrugged. “Just buttered toast and fruit juice.”

“So? I like it just fine.” Seeing him act so dejectedly over feeling inadequate was breaking your heart and you felt like an idiot for never noticing it before. “Just take the compliment, please. You do enough. Trust me.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“You want me to give examples? Okay, how about when my car broke down and you dropped everything to come pick me up.” It was the first example that came to mind and you could see a spark of amusement in his eyes when you reminded him. “Dustin wouldn’t talk to me for about a week because I ruined your D&D night.”

“The little shit only forgave you when I threatened to kill off his bard,” he laughed. “As if I was going to leave my girl at some seedy gas station in the middle of the night.”

“It was nine, still light out, and mister Jenkins was fine with me hanging out with him until the tow truck showed up.”

“Of course he was fine with it. Have you seen you?” His hand came down on your thigh, giving you a soft squeeze, since the sheer memory of that night ignited a spark of possessiveness inside him. “I don’t trust him.”

“The man’s at least seventy, Eddie!”

“So?” He said very matter of factly, as if it made perfect sense for Eddie to act so territorial around someone that posed no threat whatsoever. “He’s still a guy and I didn’t like how he was looking at you when I got there.”

“Oh yeah? You’d beat up an old man to defend my honor?”

“Babe, I would beat anyone up to defend your honor.”

“And that’s how you take care of me,” you replied resolutely, because he had just proven your point. “You’d take on the whole world for me.”

“I have to. You’re my girl.” Hearing those words were enough to make your heart swell about three sizes in your chest and you managed to catch him off guard when you pressed your lips against his for a quick kiss. “What was that for?”

“For being you,” you sighed contentedly as you rested your head against his shoulder. “That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too.” He put his arm around you and attempted to pull you even closer into his side. “Let me try this again. How about a romantic evening with me, your loving boyfriend, while I fully intend to feed you the cupcakes that I made all by myself, and maybe then we can watch a movie?”

“What movie?”

He pressed his lips into your hairline, suddenly embarrassed, and mumbled, “A Room with a View.”

“Really?” It made you pull away from him, wide eyed and excited, so you could see his face and found that he was dead serious. “You didn’t!” you exclaimed in surprise. 

“I did,” he confirmed. “You should have seen Harrington’s face.”

“It’s not really your kind of movie.” Eddie’s taste in movies was fairly unique to put it mildly. He had a penchant for loving the ones that were unbelievably bad. “You must have really shocked him for not renting something shittier.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Hard Rock Zombies.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned when you remembered that particular movie. “Or Slumber Party Massacre, which you called an ‘underrated classic’ if I recall correctly?”

“It is! My tastes are just too high end for you and I accepted that shortcoming in you years ago-“

“Hey!”

“Let me finish.” It was his turn to place his index finger over your lips to ensure your silence this time around. “So yeah, I could have rented one of those masterpieces, but I didn’t because this is your night and this one came highly recommended by Robin. So, babe, would you do me the honor of watching this movie with me?”

“I would love to.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a self satisfied smile. “So just sit here and look pretty while I get everything ready, okay?”

“I shall eagerly await your return.” Eddie took your hand, kissed the back of it and let it slip from his grasp as he went back to the kitchen. “You’re such a dork.”

“Your dork,” he corrected. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t,” you confirmed.

And you wouldn’t. He was your guy after all.

#the boy is mine #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #mar writes

[saylorsaysstop]

REPUTATION ERA | Bat Boys

What song/lyrics describe your relationship with a Bat Boy?

↪ Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! ⭐️

↪ My Masterlist

BRUCE WAYNE 🖤 | KING OF MY HEART

"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury."

When Bruce Wayne saw you, he was starstruck. Women had enticed him throughout his years as Gotham's most eligible bachelor but none of those women made him come to a dead stop in the middle of a crowded room and lose his breath. But you did.

The moment his hand brushed yours in greeting, his heart somersaulted in his chest. This feeling, this emotion - it was foreign to him. Alfred had never seen Master Wayne speechless. As he strives to protect Gotham, Bruce does the same with your heart.

You were royalty in his eyes. The way you commanded a room with the simple wave of a hand, how you impressed anyone who crossed your path. It was an immediate decision Bruce made in his head that he couldn't survive another night without you being his.

He was the king of secrets considering his masked identity, but Bruce never felt the urge to keep his love for you a secret. He wanted to lock the two of you behind closed doors, not because he was embarrassed or ashamed, but because he was terrified of another man sweeping you off your feet. Bruce Wayne. Scared to lose a woman. Who would've thought?

No fancy car or gadget could ever compare to the soft luxury of your lips on his. Bruce loved to say that you were a drug and he was an addict, never wanting to go to rehab to get you out of his system.

What's Gotham going to think when he finally gets engaged to you?

DICK GRAYSON 💙 | DRESS

"Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try And if I get burned, at least we were electrified I'm spilling wine in the bathtub You kiss my face and we're both drunk Everyone thinks that they know us But they know nothing about,"

The love between you and Dick is like touching a live wire. It electrified and every spark between you is brighter than the rest. He started as your best friend and quickly turned into more- so much more. Nights where you raided Bruce's alcohol stash after Wayne Manor parties, both of you drunk and making out like teenagers with your hands all over each other.

The confessions of love spoken in private between each other. The line of your friendship was easily blurred the moment Dick made it known that he had such strong feelings for you. The first time his lips brushed yours, you were nearly swept off your feet at the erupting butterflies in your belly.

Dick became a lifeline. He made you feel beautiful. Everyone thought they knew the story between you and Dick, but needless to say, no one knew the truth. You and Dick have a love that people desire for themselves.

JASON TODD ❤️ | CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

"'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to,"

Jason getting close to someone after everything he endured hadn't been easy. But when his heart leaped ahead ten paces before his mind could and he found himself entangled with you, he knew he belonged nowhere else except in the comfort of your arms. Jason stole your breath the moment you laid eyes on him. With his honed physique and dark hair, you were a sucker for whatever he had in store for you.

You loved Jason more than the world. He claimed to never own you, although he found it undeniably attractive to know you wear a chain around your neck with a little J dangling from it. You loved the idea of him being yours and you would gladly sport your love in public for the man.

Jason wasn't quick to add a label to what you two were doing, afraid that he'd jump too far ahead. He had been let down so many times in his life that he wasn't willing to sacrifice his heart for a woman... But when you laid in his arms and told him you wanted him for good, Jason's anxiety was immediatley lifted, and Red Hood's heart cracked to let line and golden warmth whoosh through it.

He vowed to make every day spent with him better than the last, even if some nights he came home in defeat. He knew that when he got to hold you in his arms, everything he worked so hard to fight for would be worth it.

TIM DRAKE ☕️ | DELICATE

"Long night with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share."

What Tim didn't admit to his brothers and Bruce first was the nature of his relationship with you. Tim had always been the cautious one, the one who thought of everything from beginning to finish. So when he stumbled across you and wound up in bed with you that night for a string of hookups that quickly became more, Tim knew he was in it with you for the long run.

Your little apartment thirty minutes away from Wayne Manor was easy to access for Tim to sneak to after patrol. You gave him a spare key and the moment you'd hear his footsteps on your staircase, your adrenaline would skyrocket, your skin would grow hot, and before you knew what was happening, Tim's hands would be running through your hair and claiming your mouth in the dirtiest of ways.

Your entire relationship with him from the first spark to the inferno that rages between you two had been nothing short of delicate. You didn't have such a good reputation in Gotham City, especially as the daughter of a crimelord Batman was in the throes of stopping, but Tim couldn't care less because you were good.

The thought of sharing Tim with anyone else infuriated you. With such a delicate relationship blooming between the two of you, you swore with everything in you that you'd treat Tim with the utmost loyalty and respect, two values he had no issue giving in return.

#dick grayson fluff #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake fluff #red robin fluff #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

before - part one

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

it’s summer in austin, and you and joel meet for the first time.

a/n: the joel miller brain rot is real and your advocate is here to help! masterlist will be up shortly, special thank yous and shout outs to @psychedelic-ink @allfoolsinluv and @gnollengrom for letting me scream about this fic in your dms 🤍 I have thought of little else for the last 48 hours

word count: 3.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI - this part is not explicit but other parts will be, masterlist has further warnings, but no real warnings for this part except a lot of fluff?? and banter?? and I’m obsessed kthanksbyeeeee

✨I no longer have a taglist - if you’d like to be notified of new works/chapters, follow @friskito-library and turn notifications on!✨

You meet Joel Miller long before the world implodes.

It’s 2001, you’re fresh out of college, relocated to Austin, Texas where your parents have taken over an old hardware store that once belonged to your grandfather. Nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for the time being, you spend most of your time in the store, stocking shelves and chatting with customers, learning the different things the store keeps on hand, what has to be shipped in special order. It’s not much, but it’s something to do; you’re just happy to be back with your family after four long years at college. Sure, you came home for holidays when you could, but it wasn’t the same.

It still isn’t the same, not really.

The house you live in is foreign to you, not the same roof you grew up under. The people are the same, your parents clearly happy to have you back, your little sister overjoyed to have someone in her corner again. Austin is nice, the weather warmer than you’re used to after four years in Michigan, but it’s a welcome change. Summer seems to go on forever, and your weekends are spent basking in the sun, finding new places to explore, wandering the shops that neighbour the hardware store and beyond.

And then one day, everything changes.

You’re stood at the end of one of the aisles, fixing a stubborn display of plaster tubs that won’t stay upright, when you hear the bells over the door chime, announcing the arrival of a customer. You don’t stray far from the display, calling out a good morning! and returning to your work. Your sister is perched behind the register, flipping through an old magazine, and you hear the tell-tale squeak of work boots on the linoleum, the sound now all too familiar to your ears.

The boots move in your direction, but you pay the sound little mind until it grows closer. Most people who come into the store know what they’re looking for, and your parents had been careful to keep everything in the same aisles and shelves they’d been on for the past decade, so as to not disrupt the regular customers. From the corner of your eye, scuffed, dark boots step a little closer, and your eyes drag over from the display, taking in the man before you.

You try really hard not to let your eyes linger everywhere, but it’s hard. He’s…well, he’s hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, patchy facial hair that really shouldn’t work as well as it does. Long legs covered in dark jeans, a t-shirt that’s definitely seen better days and is straining against his broad shoulders and thick arms. It’s a classic look you’ve come to associate with every guy who works construction in Austin, but right off the bat, you know there’s something different about this one.

“Hi there,” he says, his southern drawl not as intense as some other folks you’ve talked to, but still there, coupled with a little quirk to his lips, an almost-smile that makes you instantly desperate to see the full thing.

“Hi,” you breathe out, curling your fingers around the metal shelving in front of you, abandoning the plaster display.

“I’m lookin’ for a quarter-inch drill bit,” he spits, nearly stuttering the request out. You’re stuck still for a moment, absolutely enamoured by the man before you. And it makes your own lips twitch, the way his cheeks flare red and he drops his gaze after a moment, rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m also assuming you work here but I now realize you don’t have a name tag or anything so I’ll just—”

You clap a hand over your chest dramatically. “Shoot. Must have left the stupid thing in the back.” He lifts his head, eyes going wide, the almost-smile returning. “Follow me.”

He follows you like a little lost puppy a few aisles down from where you were standing. He’s taller than you, by nearly a head, those broad shoulders almost blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. You may or may not let your hips swing a little harder as you walk.

“Any specific brand you’re looking for?” you ask over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the pegboard that holds bits of all sorts of sizes. “Or just a quarter-inch?”

“As long as it fits in my drill,” he answers, and you turn to the board, scanning for the right size. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, and you’re basking in it. When you find the right one, you pluck it off the hook and hand it to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans after he takes it from you. “If it doesn’t fit, just bring it back and I’ll make sure you get the right one.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and he looks between you and the little package a few times, tapping it against the flat of his palm. His lips part, like he’s about to say something, but then your sister calls your name and your head snaps up.

“Come on up to the front when you’re ready,” you say, feeling a little bold and touching his arm as you step past him, “and I’ll cash you out.”

He watches you walk away, too.

“I need coffee,” your sister declares as soon as you’re within view of the front counter. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, stepping behind the register, righting a cup of pens that’s fallen over. She slips down from the stool, flipping her magazine shut, and brushes past you, just as a now familiar deep voice reaches your ears.

“Thanks again,” tall, dark, and handsome says, approaching the counter with the drill bit and a tub of plaster from the display you’d been fixing in his hands. Your sister steps around him as he walks up, and turns to look at you over his shoulder, her jaw dropped, giving you two thumbs up. Your cheeks flare with heat, but you ignore it, taking the bit and the plaster when he sees them on the counter. “Are you new here?” he asks, and then rubs his hand up the back of his head, turning sheepish again. “Here being Austin, I mean. Haven’t seen you around before.”

You can’t help but grin back at him. “New-ish. Moved back at the beginning of the summer after I finished college. My parents took over this place after my grandfather died, and I can’t afford rent in the city, so here I am.” You ring up his purchase, tell him his total, and he fishes for his wallet, digging in the front pocket of his jeans. “For now, anyway.”

He presses his lips together as he pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to you. “Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.”

You punch in the right amount, letting the register drawer hit your hip as it shoots open. “Maybe you will.” You hand him his change, and as you press the bills and coins into his waiting hand, you offer your name with it.

“Joel,” he says by way of answer, and your chest puffs a little with the knowledge. “Miller. Joel Miller.”

Your grin widens. “Well, you have yourself a good day, Joel Miller. Hope I see you soon.”

He takes the bit and the plaster and takes a step backwards, walking directly into a display stand holding rolls of bright green and blue painters tape, sending it toppling to the floor. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he grumbles, and you step around the counter, dropping to your knees, catching the tape as it rolls in a million different directions.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him earnestly, righting the stand and getting back to your feet. “Now I have something to do.”

“You sure?” he asks, straightening, his cheeks burning red. “I’m sorry, again.”

“Don’t worry about it, again,” you laugh, gesturing towards the front door. “I’ll see you, Joel.”

“See you,” he replies, tacking your name onto the end, and you have to ignore the way the sound of your name on his lips sends a prickle up the back of your neck.

You watch as he walks out the door, the bell ringing again as he departs, getting into a pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days parked at the curb. He scrubs a hand over his face as he starts the engine, and then turns and looks at you through the glass, lifting a hand in a wave before he pulls away from the store. You lift your hand to return the farewell, and your sister walks through the door a moment later, two coffees in her hands, pushing one into your grip even though you said you didn’t want one. You sip it anyway.

“Who was that?” she asks, bumping her hip into yours.

“Joel Miller.”

+

He comes into the store nearly every day for a week. Always looking for something new, another drill bit or packages of nails and screws, a hammer, rolls of tape. He’s a carpenter, you learn, and goes bright red when you hint that must mean he’s good with his hands.

Your conversations are always brief, but sweet. He asks what you went to school for, admits he never got past a high school education, laughs when you tell him he seems to be doing pretty well for himself despite that. He shows up one morning with coffees for both you and your sister, and a box of doughnuts, earning a squeal from your sister and a bright thanks Joel from yourself. One afternoon, he’s in a hurry, having run out of drywall screws, cursing that he left his wallet at the job site, and you wave him off, all but pushing him out the door with a new box.

Then Monday rolls around, and you find yourself watching the door, waiting for the bell to signal his arrival. Every time the bell does ring, you jump, stepping out of whatever aisle you’re in, checking to see who’s walked inside. 

“I’m sure he’ll come by tomorrow,” your sister says when the clock hits two and there’s still no sign of him. “He’s probably just busy.”

“I know,” you say, brushing it off best you can.

The rest of the day passes like molasses, the minutes ticking by so slow you’re half sure the clock on the wall is broken. You even go so far as to check the batteries, earning a laugh from your sister. You curse yourself for flinching every time the door opens, doubly so when your father arrives to take over for the evening and you jump so hard you drop the stack of sandpaper boxes in your hands. “Sorry, honey,” he laughs, helping you pick up the boxes. “Long day?”

“Something like that,” you reply, putting the sandpaper on the right shelf before heading for the counter to grab your bag. “See you at home!”

Your father waves without looking, but calls your name before you can walk out the door. “Someone’s at the house, just so you know. Your mother’s home, of course, but I hired a guy to look at the back porch, asked him to fix the light in the hallway too.”

“Shouldn’t you be able to fix that yourself,” you joke with a smile, “since you own a hardware store and all?”

He just waves you off. “Get outta here.”

You laugh, pushing the door open, the bells jingling above your head as you step through. It’s just before dinner time, the sun starting to hang a little lower in the sky. The inside of your car feels like a sauna when you slide into the driver’s seat, and you blast the air conditioning, turning up the radio loud enough you can hear it over the noise. It’s a quick drive from the store to your house, and you’re too distracted by the song that’s playing on the radio to notice the rusty pick-up parked at the curb.

If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.

Your mother is sitting in the kitchen when you walk through the door, calling her hellos, and you dump your keys and bag before bee-lining for the bathroom. The house is all one level, one bathroom shared between the four of you, and you flick on the light, turn on the shower, strip down quickly. The warm water is a balm for the long day, the tension that had been sitting between your shoulders melting away beneath the spray.

You wrap yourself in a towel afterward, collecting your clothes from the floor before flicking the light off again. You’re still humming the song from the radio as you open the door, wiping a drop of water from your cheek and—

“Joel?”

“Shit!” he mumbles, dropping the screwdriver in his hand. He’s standing right outside the bathroom, balanced on a step-stool. Fixing the light; you remember what your father had said. You’re instantly flushed, starkly aware of the fact that you’re basically naked except for a towel, dripping water and your underwear is basically dangling from your hand. “I’m sor—fuck!” The stool wobbles and out of instinct, you grab for him, planting your hand on his stomach. He’s reaching over his head still, and the bottom of your hand meets bare skin, his t-shirt riding up slightly.

“You good?” you ask, pressing your lips together as he balances himself. You move your hand, carefully bending your knees and picking up the screwdriver from where it landed on the floor. “Here.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, taking it from you, jaw working as he chews the inside of his lip. His cheeks are as red as your whole body feels. “Sorry, I’m—”

“I should go!” you say quickly, and side-step him, bolting out of the bathroom doorway and straight into your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Your clothes tumble to the ground as soon as you’re inside, clapping a hand over your mouth as the towel nearly slips off of you. “Oh my god.”

+

You open the store by yourself the next day, your sister claiming she has the flu, your father with a golf game he can’t miss, and your mother with ‘far too many things to do around the house’. You don’t mind it; it’s usually quiet in the mornings, with the exception of the week of Joel, where he’d shown up at nine o’clock nearly on the dot each day.

Once your father got home last night, you’d all but interrogated him. Turns out, Joel had stopped by the store late the night before, walking in just before closing, and he and your dad got to talking. When the subject of the creaky back porch and the broken hallway light came up, Joel had offered his services, and your father had accepted.

A minute after you’ve flipped the sign from closed to open and unlocked the door, a now-familiar pick-up truck pulls up to the parking spot outside the curb. You inhale sharply, nerves and embarrassment in your gut, and you turn away from the door, heading towards the counter, you back to the door as it jingles open.

Joel Miller calls your name. You nearly freeze, but continue your steps until you’re safely behind the counter. You hear his boots squeak on the floor as he approaches, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head until he’s standing right in front of you, saying your name again.

“Morning, Joel.”

“About yesterday,” he says instantly, a hand reached into the space between you, landing in a loose fist on the countertop. “I had no idea that you were—that it would—” He blows out a breath, ducking his head before meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”

“Y’know, I usually make a man buy me dinner before he sees me half-naked,” you say, the line rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself. Joel balks, and you clap a hand over your mouth, nervous giggles pouring out of you. “Oh my god, that was cheesy, I’m sorry. And it’s okay, for the record. I should have checked the hallway before I walked out.”

He laughs, you laugh, and the idea sparks in your mind. Your hands move of their own accord, reaching for a pen and a scrap of receipt paper. You scribble out your phone number, accompanied by a little smiley face after the last digit.

“Here,” you say, pushing the paper across the counter, nudging his hand with your own. “Why don’t you take this, and maybe we can see each other someplace besides the paint aisle or outside my bathroom.” When he doesn’t answer right away, that sick feeling of rejection crawls up your throat, and you nearly snatch the paper back. “Or we could just pretend it never happened.”

“Can’t do that,” he murmurs, and his voice is so low and inviting you can’t help but lean across the counter slightly. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall and he curses under his breath. “Shit, I’m gonna be late.” He grabs the paper, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket on his t-shirt. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, nodding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he touches his hand to yours, fingers glancing over your wrist before he pulls away. He steps backward again, eyes not leaving yours. Thankfully there’s no display in his path for him to topple over, but he only looks away when he reaches the door, that almost-smile you’ve been chasing since the first day you met spreading into a full-blown grin that sends butterflies shooting through your stomach. “Bye, Joel.”

“Bye,” he replies, your name a near-whisper afterward.

As soon as the door shuts, the tinkle of bells echoing, you slump across the counter with a squeal. The bells ding again a second later, and you shoot upright, schooling your face into a normal-looking smile and greeting the customer that’s just walked through the door.

+

It’s nearly ten o��clock that night, when your phone rings.

You’re lounging in bed, a book propped against your knees, Sheryl Crowe crooning out of your stereo. The robotic ring makes you jump, and you hit the answer button quickly, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” Joel says, and you smile, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Had a long day, and I almost didn’t call, but I really wanted to.”

“I’m glad you did,” you reply, letting the book fall shut on your lap. “What made your day so long?”

It’s easy conversation, the two of you chatting for a good hour. He talks about the job site he’s been working at, his brother that works with him, how his truck nearly broke down when he went to leave, making him late to get home. The call only comes to an end when you’re both making each other yawn, mumbling apologies every time.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Joel nearly whispers, his voice so soft through the phone you barely hear it. “Didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” you quip, rolling onto your side, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. “But I like talking to you, just for the record.”

“I like talking to you, too,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Just for the record.”

“Are you making fun of me?” you ask, faking shock. He laughs.

“Nah, I just like the way you talk, darlin’,” he says, and the pet name makes you shiver. “I’ll let you go.”

“You didn’t ask,” you say quickly, and he pauses, dead air on the line for a moment.

“What?”

“I said you could make it up to me,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, glancing out the window at the moon, big and white in the dark sky. “That was your opening to ask me out.”

Another pause, and you’re holding your breath, chewing your lip.

“Have dinner with me on Friday?”

You hum, beaming into the phone. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Joel barks a laugh, the biggest one you’ve gotten out of him yet, and you smile harder. “You’re trouble.”

“You’re the one having dinner with me,” you shoot back, and he laughs again, softer this time. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You can tell he’s still smiling. “Goodnight.”

NEXT

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers

[headspace-hotel]

so, in regards to your recent posts on kane-tucky and usa food industry, do you / how do you keep active hope and not slip in into apathy and "looking out for my own" get out of dodge mentality? im having a hard time articulating this, but what makes you not curl up into a shaking mess in anger resentment and a deep desire for change that likely, if ever, wont happen in our lifetime.... any advice is appreciated

The short answer is "getting out and doing stuff in the real world, educating, volunteering, whatever is within your ability"

I will add that "looking out for your own" is not...bad. Like I don't know precisely what you mean by this phrase, but it's actually very important to come to terms with the fact that your impact is strongest where your feet touch the ground, and you have a responsibility and relationship to the people immediately around you, the place immediately around you.

This has not been a popular opinion of mine in the past, but...you can't and shouldn't care about literally everything on the planet. There is of course huge global disparity with access to resources and aid networks, and the largest communities we belong to are: all of Earth and the whole human species.

However: your level of agency is so low with issues that are happening on the other side of the world from you, compared with issues that are happening in your home town. And we're seeing people just get completely burned out from compassion fatigue without ever doing shit because the global responsibility is pushed on us and the local responsibility is not.

I hated my hometown for a decade. In high school I wanted so badly to leave. It's one of those desolate-feeling towns that's developed enough for a shopping center and big chain retailers but not enough to have a sense of community or a single bookstore. I've never been able to place myself precisely along the urban-rural spectrum because I feel isolated from even isolation: there's nowhere to go that doesn't feel razed by human development, where you can't hear the noise of traffic on roads, but it's all cattle pastures, sprawling storage facilities, auto parts stores, big, empty churches. One wrong turn will put you in a dark valley where there are rotting, derelict trailers on cinder blocks hidden back in the woods, and this place has that same feeling of "nowhere to go."

And I felt paralyzed by everything bad happening around the world and the fact that I was just one person, and I had gotten the horrible impression that the only thing I could do about anything was vote and donate money to links I saw online. The worst lie the internet taught me was that in saving the world, nothing matters except Power, Money, and an unclear third category that involves throwing bricks at cops.

But I touched grass. And the weeds taught me something. Do you see the parking lots, the harsh pavement and gravel and brick? I saw. I was surrounded by this landscape of brutal, totalitarian surfaces, impermeable concrete locking the soil away. But in the cracks in the surfaces, dandelions, purslane, and spurge were thriving.

I observed that the spurge stretched out like a shaggy rug and padded the concrete surfaces. The old leaves of the dandelions, as they withered, caught bits of dirt as it flowed into drainage ditches after rains. Soil was forming, and the sprawling structure of the early weeds seemed specially adapted for the task. In older cracks, more plants moved in; I found a wild ruellia blooming in a paved road, an evening primrose. And in some places, seedling trees.

Have you seen what happens when a sidewalk is left unmaintained for years? It disappears. The roots slowly buckle and break it into pieces, and it vanishes beneath lush leaves and moss. A tree growing in a crack in concrete will slowly pry the slab apart.

This is how my IRL rewilding project got started—just pulling plants from the pavement cracks, raising them in pots. I was surprised and awed at the resilience of the plants. I found little trees in concrete with at least two years' growth on them, that had survived being mowed down multiple times.

The weeds changed my viewpoint on the world forever. Up until that point, certain facts about power and politics and money had seemed like law, but I'd suddenly seen that there was a deeper magic.

The dandelions' survival made it possible for others to survive, which in turn made even more life flourish. They could not demolish and remove the concrete and pavement, but they could overcome it by refusing to be destroyed, because the power to take care of each other is in their nature.

People have made fun of me for telling others to go plant a tree. I think culturally we have this ingrained dismissal of things like that due to the twee, cutesy associations of "tree hugging" environmentalists, except in this instance it's because planting a tree is pointless in light of something something systemic issues, not because climate change isn't real, or...whatever reason people have for finding environmentalists cringe. (That is kinda sus now that I think about it.)

And I'm not saying planting a tree will fix climate change. I'm saying that something in my brain had broken and planting a tree unbroke it.

Go outside. Touch grass. Do the work in the immediate community you belong to, in the place you are in, where you have the best and most impact. We have the power to take care of each other, and that power grows stronger the more we are cared for.

The internet is a good place to share information, but that's fucking it. The real stuff, the stuff you can touch with your hands, the stuff that will heal despair, is out there in the real, touchable world. You need to see and feel what you are doing. Don't just give help—accept it. The power to take care of each other is in our nature, and by nature we can give more when we thrive as a result of others' care.

I hope this helps.

#plants #gardening #dandelions #rewilding #plantarchy

[muddyorbsblr]

friday nights & hot dates [kinktober 2023: slow & soft]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: A few months after he first showed up at your house to keep you company on your birthday, Conrad finally tells you how he feels. | sequel to 'you deserve better'

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 6.1k [please prepare drinkies & snacks accordingly]

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, get on outta here i won't ask twice); unprotected p in v sex; language; insecure reader; the smut scene is 1.3k words long idek if i should say sorry for this… [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: simp Conrad; a touch of aftercare in the end 😳🫠

Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): smut starts at "Once he realized what you were about to do" and ends at "We're nowhere near done"

A loud chime boomed across the Monarch training field, announcing the top of the hour. The setting sun only barely blocked by the visor atop former Captain James Conrad's head and doing a piss poor job of straining his eyes as he watched on the first troop of soldiers assigned to the lab.

He'd been tasked to train the few handfuls of privates to be able to face the challenges that Skull Island would have in store for them throughout subsequent missions. They were decent enough, but to handle both navigating the hostile, monstrous terrain and serving as protective detail for the scientists on their tasks to obtain more samples and document its ecosystem, they would need to be exemplary. At the top of their game.

Especially if they are to be protecting Y/N, he thought to himself. Then again, he probably wouldn't let any of them anywhere near you. He would see to your protection personally. Make sure that there was little to no room for error when it came to your safety.

But they all had a long way to go before he decreed any of them ready for the field. And none of them would be closing the gap on their endurance or their agility within the next few minutes. The chime that rung out through the field not only signaled the top of the hour, but the end of your own work day, and he wanted to at least see you off to your ride home. Perhaps walk with you to the pick-up point.

"Alright, that's enough for today," he called out to the privates, everyone standing to attention at his word. "We'll resume on Monday morning. Get adequate rest this weekend."

He took off his training jacket and his visor, haphazardly running his hand through his short cropped hair. While he took a quick inventory of his belongings before heading off to your lab, one of the women privates approached him.

"Do you need anything, Pearson?"

She began to shuffle her stance, somewhat incapable of meeting his gaze as she spoke to him. "The other guys and I were going to check out the new Mexican place that opened up a few blocks from here. I was--I mean we were wondering if you'd like to join us?"

Pearson straightened her stance in a particular manner, jutting her chest out in a blatantly clear attempt to draw his attention to it. You're fresh out of luck, my attentions are for one woman and one woman only. And she's in the lab.

"Thank you for the invite, Pearson, but I have what you and your peers might say a…'hot date' tonight." He fought against the smile playing at the corners of his mouth at the thought of being on a proper date with you.

"Oh." She barely tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Okay then. Have a good weekend, Sir."

"Don't look now but he's here again," Brooks muttered from across the lab, the sound of him clacking away on his keyboard taking the briefest pause to tell you that once again, the former SAS tracker James Conrad was right outside the door. "You ever gonna share with the class how you two became a thing? 'Cause we have a bet going on in the lab about who made the first move and--"

"There's nothing to share, Brooks, because we aren't a thing," you cut him off, taking on a snippy tone while you ran the genome of the last flora sample from the set you collected in Skull Island against every recorded organism known to man so far. "We're friends, that's all. Give it time and he'll get tired of slumming it out with me and go back to haunting pool bars and nameless hookups."

"I don't know, Y/L/N…I never had a friend look at me like that."

The results from your test finally came up on the screen, confirming that the flora on the island were all, in fact, undocumented. You took a quick screenshot and placed it into your report. "Looks like we're getting funded," you announced, your half-deadpanned tone met with a mixture of excitement and fear. "Don't everyone stand up at once, I know how pumped we all are to get back to the island of death."

You finally stood up from your desk, looking outside the door and seeing Conrad outside giving you a little smile when your eyes met. You tried to ignore how your heart started doing backflips in your chest at the sight of him, keeping your expression fairly neutral as you gave him a small wave in response. Once your computer had finished shutting down, you grabbed your things and bid everyone goodbye, stopping at Brooks's desk last.

"If what you mean is looking at me like a barnacle he can't scrape off his boat, I hope you never have friends that look at you like that, my guy."

Before you stepped through the door, your fellow scientist let out a final remark. "You know, Y/N, for someone so smart, you're a bit of an idiot sometimes."

"Takes one to know one, Brooks," you shot back, stepping across the threshold and almost immediately becoming face-to-chest with the tracker that towered over you effortlessly. "Hey Conrad," you said slowly, trying your best to keep a hold of your composure. "Did you need something from us? I think I have Bryant running CMP for the guys you're training you should have the results tomo--"

"I didn't come here for the blood tests, Y/L/N," he cut you off, giving you another little smile that had your pulse thumping violently at your throat. "I erm…it's Friday." His eyebrows scrunched together in the slightest wince at his words.

"It is…" you echoed lamely, starting to tap away at your phone to get an Uber home, holding back the urge to sigh in relief seeing that your ride was only a few minutes away. "Have a good weekend, then," you tried to wave him off, pointing vaguely at the pick-up area, starting to awkwardly shuffle away from him.

He reached out and wrapped his hand around yours, stopping you before you got away too far. "Actually, I was thinking…perhaps we could go and grab a bite to eat? There's a new place that opened up just a short walk from here. Maybe we could try it out?"

As if on cue, your stomach let out an audible grumble, rudely reminding you that the last time you ate was this morning before you left your house. Before you could dwell on it any further, you canceled your Uber, giving him a tiny smile of your own. "Lead the way."

Dinner was a rather quiet affair, the two of you starting off by sharing a plate of nachos before you ordered your mains. Sometime before your entrees were served, a small group of people you recognized as the privates being trained as the Monarch Defense Team walked through the doors, the women immediately spotting Conrad and tossing a scornful dismissive look your way.

"What's wrong?"

His voice took your attention away from the group, the motion of him reaching across the table to take your hand in his causing a resounding stomp from across the restaurant followed by a barely contained "What the fuck?!"

"It's uhh…it's nothing," you waved off, trying to slowly pull your hand away so as to not elicit a stronger reaction from the group and grab his attention. "Just…thinking about work. I have to put a recommendation for another mission to the island in my report."

"We'll be better prepared this time," he reassured you, his thumb rubbing across the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "We have a better idea of what we're to face when we get there, and what not to do. And with enough time the troop that I'm training might even be field ready, so you and your team would have better protection."

Your neck twitched at the idea of the woman with the derisive eyes being tasked to protect you. Might even just throw you to the gigantic insects voluntarily. "Right…at least the team will be safe."

"And you, Y/N," he insisted, giving your hand a light squeeze. "I'll see to it myself, I promise you."

You nodded at his words, feeling your face strain at the smile you tried to give him before slipping your hand out of his and standing up. "Ladies room, I'll be back in a few."

While you were in line for the restroom, your thoughts wandered to how you could potentially word your recommendation so that maybe you didn't have to go with the rest of the team back to Skull Island. You weren't physically cut out to be in such a high-stress environment, and frankly you would be more of a liability if people had to look out for you on top of trying to survive a hostile environment.

When your turn came up in the queue, you were stopped in your tracks by someone wrapping their hand around your arm in a claw-like grasp, yanking you slightly backwards. "We need to talk, Y/L/N," a woman seethed.

You swore your blood chilled to near freezing point when you saw the woman private from Conrad's troop, her hateful eyes and vicious sneer too close for comfort.

There was something troubling you, Conrad could tell that much as he watched you in line for the restroom. Much as he usually found it adorable when you were muttering to yourself over your research, he had to fight to resist the urge to stand up and do what he could to somehow put you at ease.

He knew that you weren't all too excited that you had to return to the island, but his gut told him that it was more than just that. You seemed almost fearful when he mentioned the troop that he was training, and not in the way that told him it was simply because you doubted their ability to guarantee your safety.

Did you not realize that he would never even think to put your safety in anyone's hands other than his own? Didn't you know how valuable you were to him? Of course he would keep you safe. He'd put you in the same tent if he could just to make sure you'd never leave his sight.

The sight of a woman marching towards you as if on a war path had him leaving his seat within seconds, immediately recognizing it to be Pearson. When she stopped you from moving and he clocked the vice grip she had on you it had him seeing red. He saw the way you flinched back when she started hissing in your face, her words making every muscle in his body tense and burn with the itch to protect you from someone so obviously spiteful.

"Don't tell me you're the hot date that Captain Conrad turned me down for, this has to be the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard in my life," she spat out. Your face contorted with obvious discomfort from her talon-like hand tightening around your arm, nails undoubtedly digging into your skin.

"Listen, Private Pearson, I think there might just be a misunderstanding," you spoke softly, your tone laced with caution. "He's probably gonna go to said 'hot date' after this, I'm just his friend. We're friends…I think…"

Silly sweet girl, he thought to himself. Are you really so unaware of how I see you?

"Do you really think I'm that stupid, Y/L/N? I don't need to have a PhD in God knows what the ever loving fuck to know that you're into him. The only thing I can't figure out to save my life is what the fuck he sees in a mousey jumpy little thing like you, and where you found the goddamn audacity to steal him away the way you did."

"I'm not trying to steal anyone," you insisted, trying to wrestle your arm out of her hold. "We're just friends, Private Pearson. Anyone with a functioning brain can see that he doesn't want me like that. You want him, he's all yours, you won't hear a peep out of me."

"You better be right," she scoffed, releasing you with a slight shove, causing you to stumble backwards and fight to find your balance for a few seconds before righting yourself on your feet again. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck away from him. Preferably before you see what happens when your stupid little face gets me triggered."

Rather than give her a verbal agreement, you simply nodded your head, scurrying off into the restroom, your face looking as if it had been drained of color and your bottom lip quivering with an obvious concern for your own safety.

So this was why you were concerned over your protection detail if you had to return to the island. Of course. Who would ever feel safe if someone assigned to the team that was tasked to protect them behaved the way that Pearson was behaving now? Who was to say that it wasn't beneath her to intentionally endanger you out of sheer spite?

The private let out an arrogant huff, flipping her hair and standing up straight with a smug look on her face before making her way back to her table with the rest of the privates in her troop.

"Pearson," Conrad spoke, letting his irritation over the entire encounter lace his tone. She stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to face him with a touch of fear in her eyes. Good, you should be afraid after the way you just spoke to the woman I love.

"Cap…Captain Conrad, hi!" Her cheeks strained with the smile she tried to keep plastered on her face despite the obvious nervousness that remained in her eyes. "We're so glad you decided to join us after all, we're seated over--"

"You're dismissed. Don't bother coming in on Monday." Her face fell immediately, indignation coloring her expression. "If you cannot treat the people you're expected to defend and protect with professionalism and respect, then you're not fit to stay on this team, let alone be deployed to the island."

"Come on, all this for a shifty little nothing? This is completely unfair!" she scoffed. "You could do so much better than her--"

"Hold your damn tongue, Pearson. I won't have you disrespect her--"

"She can't even hear us!"

"But I can." He began to raise his voice, calling the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant. "That's the woman I love you're talking about. It would be wise for you to choose your next words very carefully."

All the color drained from her face and she stood up straight again, back at full attention. "I apologize, Sir. I'll have my locker cleared before the weekend's over." And then she made her way back to her table, heavy footsteps sounding throughout the whole restaurant.

As Conrad sat back in his seat waiting for you to return, he replayed his own words over and over in his mind. After all this time keeping his emotions bottled in for the sake of preserving what friendship he had with you, the words had finally formed and solidified what had been building ever since the day he met you on the way to that forsaken death island.

He loved you.

By the time you made your way back to your table, you spotted Conrad signing a receipt and placing his credit card back into his wallet.

"You know I keep a tally on how many times you've refused to let me pay, right?" you sighed, taking out your phone and once again trying to book for an Uber home. "I'm perfectly fine with and capable of splitting the bill."

"Next time."

"I also keep a tally on how many times you've said exacty that." You shuffled your feet awkwardly where you stood, avoiding looking at both him and the table that sat his trainees, including the cruel witch that was Private Pearson. "Well uhm…I should get going, it's getting late. Enjoy your weekend, Conrad."

He reached out before you took another step, placing his hand at the curve of your waist. "Walk with me back to the lab and I'll drive you home."

The sound of a fist slamming down on one of the tables made you take a step back from his hold. You didn't have to look to know who it was or what caused the outburst. "I-I really don't wanna be a bother, it's fine. Really. I can take care of myself."

You tried to step forward again, making him stand from his seat, placing a large hand on your shoulder before running down the length of your arm to lace his fingers between yours. "You could never be a bother for me, Y/L/N," he spoke softly, lightly touching your chin with his other hand. "Come on."

For the most part throughout the drive to your place, he was touching you. Whether it be holding your hand between stoplights to make you stop picking at your fingernails, or rubbing circles on your knee to stop you from fidgeting, all the while keeping his other hand steadily on the wheel.

It was hands down one of the most illegally distractingly attractive things you'd ever seen. A sight that you thought was only reserved for leading ladies in those romance books you read, definitely not something you were supposed to experience in your lifetime.

It had you fighting back the urge to pout when you saw your house start to come into view, knowing that in a few short moments it would all be over. He gave your knee a light squeeze once he'd pulled up in front of your hourse, making quick work to make his way around the front of his car to open the door for you and undo your seatbelt.

The combined scent of his woodsy citrusy cologne and something that was just uniquely him seared itself into your brain as his face was mere inches from yours. He made it even worse reaching for your hand to hold you steady while you stepped out of the car.

"Thanks, Conrad," you muttered when you got to your door, your mind spinning from the feel of him running his thumb across your knuckles. "You should uhm…probably get going. Don't wanna keep you from any other plans you might have tonight."

You felt your pulse start beating furiously at your neck when he answered you. "What plans?"

Didn't Pearson have a full blown meltdown over him talking about a hot date and then seeing you with him at dinner? What the fuck was he going on about?

"Come on, Conrad, you don't have to pretend, it's just us here. Pearson practically yanked my spine from my throat earlier at the restaurant harping on about you having plans tonight so really, I'm sure you have better things to do on a Friday night you don't have to feel like you're…I don't know, obligated? To spend time with me. And at least you'll stop looking like you're doing some weird pity charity work, too--"

"Y/N, stop." He took a step toward you, closing the distance and framed your face in his large hands. "The only plans I had for tonight were with you. Do you remember what I told you all those months ago, that first night I came here?" You only stared at him blankly, wordlessly prompting him to answer it himself. "I wanted to let you know that I'm here. For you. And I still am. I always will be."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. Fleeting, but it resumed the near violent fluttering in your stomach from the contact. He gave you no time to react before he pressed his lips to yours again, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your head with his hand before pressing you against the door.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he breathed out when he broke the kiss. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat when you saw how dilated his pupils had become after that kiss. "How is it that you're so observant of everything around you and yet you fail to see what's right in front of you?"

"Conrad what--"

"How could you look at me and not see a man so desperately, so irretrievably in love?"

You swore all the air left your lungs at his words. In love? No. This couldn't be real. This was beyond simply improbable, this was impossible.

There was no way on this Earth that he felt the same.

"I can almost hear the gears in your brilliant mind turning, Y/L/N," he said softly, weaving his fingers into your hair as he proceeded to press tender kisses on your temple and the side of your face. "Invite me inside. Let me take you to your bedroom. Let me show you what you mean to me."

Before you could think about it any longer, you wordlessly slipped your key into his hand, slowly nodding your head. The only response you got from him was him latching his lips onto your neck, groaning into your skin as he lifted you off the ground with one arm, unlocking your door with the other.

He'd carried you all the way upstairs to your bedroom, constantly pressing a kiss wherever his lips could reach. When he started fumbling for the light switch, you tried to hold out your hand to stop him. "No lights," you muttered. If you wanted this to go anywhere even remotely good tonight, that would require him not running for the hills the second he got you naked.

"Without the lights, I can't see you, sweet girl," he said back teasingly, kissing along your jawline until he captured your lips, smiling into the kiss.

"Exactly," you murmured against his lips, causing him to chuckle against your skin.

"Seeing you is the best part of my day," he told you simply, flipping the switch on and bathing your bedroom in a warm white glow. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the brilliant smile he gave you once he saw your face. "There you are."

He set you down on your feet, touching the top button of your shirt with a question in his eyes, only proceeding to undo the button when you have him a slight nod. Once enough skin was exposed to him, he started to trace a line of kisses across your collarbone, running his hands down your arms to strip the shirt off from you. And then he sent your mind racing as he gave you the same treatment working both your pants and panties down your legs.

"I've dreamed of this since the island," he whispered into your skin, kissing his way back up to your lips as he reached behind you, unclasping your bra. "Lie down on the bed, my love. Let me see you."

He kept your hand in his as you lowered yourself to lie on your back, your heart thundering in your chest and your lip quivering as his eyes hungrily roamed your body. Thoughts began to swim in your head again, of how different, how much less toned nearly all parts of you were compared to him. Compared to the women he'd been with before. You tried to pull your hand away from his, to start to cover yourself.

Once he realized what you were about to do, he moved to hover over you on the bed, placing his hand in the space between your arm and your torso to block your way. "No," he said simply before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "Don't hide yourself from me." He kissed his way down your neck to your chest, paying close attention to your breasts, holding you steady as you squirmed under him while he kissed and sucked your nipples into stiff peaks.

"Conrad…" Your voice came out faint, the air too thick to breathe while you drowned in his attentions. His lips moved down your stomach, peppering kisses along your mound before placing his hands on your inner thighs and gently parting your legs, opening yourself more to him.

You clenched around nothing watching him lick his lips before his eyes found yours, desperate whimpers coming out of you when he started kissing along your inner thighs. The ache between your legs started to grow stronger the closer his mouth got to where you craved him.

"Conrad!" Your back arched off the bed when he licked up the length of your slit and pressed a fleeting open-mouthed kiss to your clit.

"Lay back down, sweetheart." Your back immediately met the mattress again at his soft spoken order, your stomach fluttering violently again at the sight of him standing over you and pulling his shirt over his head. "You are the most breathtaking sight," he breathed out. "My love…"

"Could say the same from here," you shot back, still struggling to breathe properly under his gaze. The air was practically stuck in your throat the second his hands went to his pants, taking his time to undo his belt and pants, every muscle on his perfectly sculpted body moving and flexing as if he was trying to seduce you with such a seemingly mundane action.

As if he needed to seduce you.

The sound that came out of you was borderline inhuman the second he pushed his pants down his legs, and you'd gotten a good look at the sheer size of him. There's no way that's gonna fit, you thought nervously. "Conrad, I don't--" You huffed out a deflated sigh. "It's been an embarrassingly long while since I've--"

"It's alright, sweetheart." He quickly made his way back to his position on the bed, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw until he reached your lips, making an almost relieved sound against your lips. "We'll go slow. Please just tell me if I hurt you, that's the last thing I'd ever want."

Your eyes flew open at the feel of his length pressing against your entrance, your walls stretching just shy of the point of discomfort as you accommodated to his size. Any other thoughts and doubts in your mind took a backseat to the sound of Conrad's soft groans as he inched his way into you.

You'd never felt this unbelievably full.

He moaned your name in your ear. "Like you were made for me." He pressed his lips to your temple, the gesture somewhat calming your erratically beating heart. "I'll keep going now."

"Wait Conrad you what--Oh!" You felt a thrill at the back of your head once he pushed even further in, more arousal rushing and slickening your inner walls clenching around him as if pulling him deeper into you. All you could utter over the overwhelming pleasure he was subjecting you to was a faint whimper of his name.

"I love you, Y/N," he sighed in contentment, his warm exhale hitting your already heated skin before he resumed kissing along the side of your face.

"Don't say that," you blurted out. "You don't have to--"

"I want to," he cut you off, moving his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue licking at your bottom lip. "I've wanted to tell you for so long please don't tell me to stop. I can't--"

"No one's ever said it. Not to me. I'm not--I've never been--"

Your words stilled him. He rested his forehead on yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your own. "All the more reason for me to tell you." He muffled your moan with a kiss when he inched in even more. "I love you." He kissed up your neck, gently capturing your earlobe between his teeth before kissing the same spot. "I'll say it so often everyone around us will be sick of hearing me say the words."

"Conrad…" you cried out when he finally bottomed out, your hips flush together. "Please--"

"I love you." He started moving his hips in slow grinding circles, repeating the words every time he fully entered you.

The words were lodged stubbornly in the back of your throat; all you could utter was his name while your body trembled trying to raise your hips to meet his thrusts. Meanwhile a vicious voice in the back of your mind questioned if this was even real, refusing to accept any reality where a guy like James Conrad actually genuinely fell in love with you.

You lived by the saying that if something sounded too good to be true, then it probably was. And this…this sounded like a chick lit romance novel where the devastatingly handsome decommissioned soldier fell for the nerdy scientist that most days couldn't even bother to check if her hair looked alright from the back.

This was definitely too good to be true. And all you could do now was allow yourself the fleeting opportunity to lose yourself in the pleasure he was more than capable of and seemed quite willing to give you.

And brace yourself for the moment he pulled away. The moment he finally realized that yes. Yes he could do better, actually.

Before you could dwell on it any further, he pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts when his fingers made contact with the throbbing bundle of nerves above your entrance, rubbing at the spot with the same languid pace of his thrusts.

"You feel divine, my love," he moaned in your ear, pressing his lips to a spot behind it that sent your mind reeling, the tension tightening in your stomach even further. "Come for me, Y/N." He upped his pressure on your clit, still keeping the pace with his slow, deep thrusts.

The coiling tension finally snapped when he started sucking at your skin, your walls convulsing around him while your body shook under him, your hold on his shoulder blade weakening until you finally let go, arm landing on the mattress with a soft thud. He stilled his movement inside you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss while you came down from your high.

"I love you," he kept whispering between kisses. The words had you feeling the traitorous tears prickling in the back of your eyes, every part of you filled with the overpowering urge to say them back. Tell him that you felt the same.

Instead you wanted to slap yourself for the question that slipped from your mouth. "Wait what about you?"

The smirk he gave you in response had thrills shooting throughout your body, feeling the faintest tinge of embarrassment in the back of your mind when you felt your pussy clenching around him at the sight. His mouth stretched into a devilish grin as he thrusted into you in return, his eyes filled with an obvious mix of sexual and romantic intent.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart," he rasped, starting to slowly grind his hips again. "We're nowhere near done."

He's not coming back. He left the bedroom and give it time, you're gonna hear him leave the house.

You were being irrational, and most of your mind recognized your thoughts for what they were: absolutely batshit crazy and dead wrong. For one, Conrad left the room without a stick of clothing covering him, telling you he was going to get water. He didn't know how to navigate most of your house so it would reasonably take him a few minutes to actually go get it and come back up.

That didn't stop you from making your way to the head of the bed, and crawling under the covers, drawing your knees to your chest as if you were bracing yourself for emotional impact. You caught a glimpse of your reflection on the full-length mirror, instinctively bringing your hand up to your hair to start working at the knots and tangles that developed over the last few hours.

Conrad came back to the room at that moment, holding a water bottle and two cups, giving you a soft smile as he looked on at all the effects from your lovemaking. "You look like an angel…perched on a cloud." He handed you your cup before pouring one for himself, raising an eyebrow at you when you remained sitting motionless and staring at him blankly. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I just--I thought you were just gonna get for--"

"Myself?" You nodded at him once he finished for you, making him click his tongue in disappointment, realizing what kind of experiences you'd had before. "You're making it too easy for me to spoil you. I could never be so selfish." He briefly touched his glass to yours, the clinking sound filling the room before you both downed your drinks.

Even while he climbed back onto the bed, situating himself beside you and pulling you into his arms, your irrational thoughts that he'll redress himself in a few minutes time and leave plagued your mind.

"You're looking at me like you expect me to disappear," he murmured, lightly tracing along the lines of your face with his fingertips. "What's wrong, Y/N?"

Come on, you stupid little scaredy cat just tell him. Three words. Three monosyllabic words so simple a kid can say them. Just say it.

"You're still here," you blurted out, immediately wanting to swallow your tongue when his face dropped.

Wrong three words, you fucking idiot.

"Do you want me to leave?" His words came out strained, as if it physically hurt him to say them.

"No, I don't. It's just…I expect it. And if I can be honest I'm still kind of…waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

You pursed your lips, a part of you already feeling silly for the words about to come out your mouth. "Post-coital clarity?"

He let out a slow sigh, his hold tightening around you while he cupped your face with his free hand, stroking along your cheekbone with his thumb. "And what in the world is that?"

"It's this--Honestly it's silly, really--"

"It doesn't seem silly to you." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, pulling you closer when you melted against him at the gesture. "So it's not silly to me. Tell me what it is."

You took a deep breath, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along the lines on his abdomen while you explained. "It's this phenomena that…once you've slept with someone, the attraction goes away. Your mind's more clear, you're no longer overpowered by this attraction and you realize that the person you just had sex with isn't as appealing as they were before you got together."

It took him a few seconds before he spoke again, maneuvering you so that you were now on top of him, straddling his stomach, his hands skimming up and down your sides.

"Why is it so hard for you to accept that I love you?"

The question seemed so ridiculous to you. "Because nobody ever has. Nobody does--"

"You're wrong," he cut you off, pulling you close until your chests were pressed together. "I know it might not happen often but it's happening now. You're wrong, and I'm living proof of it. Because I'm here. I'm here and I love you. The only clarity that came to me is that I want more than anything for us to become more. For what we shared tonight be more than a one-time thing."

He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you into a tender kiss that had your heart fluttering when he licked into your mouth, his tongue gliding against yours. "I'm no good with words," you said breathlessly when he broke the kiss, his chest heaving against yours. "I've never been able to say how I feel, I can't--"

"Shh it's alright, sweetheart," he breathed, holding you by the back of your neck to rest your forehead against his. "You don't need those fancy words you use in your report. It's just us here. Whatever you wish to tell me, in the plainest words--"

"I love you, too."

A/N: I've finally finished this mega chonker of a piece! And I've given 'you deserve better' Conrad his happy ending with his precious bb 🥹🥹

Next up is the final story in the Kinktober 2023 initial goal: Fingering with President Loki 😳👀 And lemme just tell y'all now…it's gonna be at least 2k words long because I haven't even gotten to the smutting yet 🥴

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27

#james conrad x reader #james conrad x female reader #james conrad smut #james conrad x reader smut #james conrad fanfic #james conrad fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #muddyorbs writes

[takeomisbitch]

No I Wanna Be In The Sequel

Kinktober day 30 Ran Haitiani x Fem!Reader

Word Count:1009

Tags:NSFW, Modern AU, Role-Playing Ghostface!Ran, Victim!Reader, Overstimulation, Squirting, Consensual Recording

Synopsis:While watching the Scream Franchise your boyfriend comes up with the idea to have your own Scream movie

Kinktober M.List | Tokyo Revengers M.List

Laying on the couch with Ran’s arm around your shoulder as you watch the screen as scenes from the first Scream movie plays, watching the movie with your boyfriend who loves this franchise was definitely something when he comes up with an idea. 

“Y/N, want to make our own Scream movie,” a smirk on his face as he lets out a low chuckle, thinking that he is joking around with you, you don’t take him seriously, “Yea sure,” sarcasm dripping from your lips you never take your eyes off the screen. “I’m being for real, doll. It’ll be fun and we can record so we can rewatch it, you know I already have the ghostface costume from a couple years ago in our closet.” 

Ran looks you in the eye, his face not showing any signs that he is lying or joking, “Deadass, like, you wanna do it now or later?” Feeling giddy and horny as you think about Ran fucking you as he is dressed as ghostface. “We’ll do it tomorrow on Halloween,” he winks at you as he directs his eyes to the TV. 

———

It’s around 10:30 pm on Halloween night your boyfriend is nowhere to be found, one minute he is telling you he’s going to the store to get something and that was an hour ago. You called his phone more than once and he still hasn’t picked up. 

Calling him once again it goes straight to voicemail, to say that you are not disappointed that he’s not here doing the thing that he said you both would do tonight would be a lie; cause you are.

Seconds after you called him you get a call from a no caller ID, staring down at it you hesitate to pick it up. Deciding to answer the phone you pick it up sliding your finger across the screen, putting the phone up your ear you hear nothing on the other line, “Hello?” 

Debating if you should hang up the phone a voice comes from the other line, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” Smiling from ear to ear as you hear the voice knowing that it belongs to your boyfriend. 

“Mmm, I don’t know, maybe F/S/M. What’s yours?” Softly giggling at the foreplay as you wait for his response, “Guess,” he lets out a soft husky chuckle as you think of an answer. “Uhh I don’t know, maybe a slasher movie.” “Mmm you would be right.” 

“Hey, what’s your name I want to know who I’m looking at,” hiding your giggle behind your hand you change the tone of your voice so you sound scared and worried, “What, what do you mean.” Playing your part you wait for your boyfriend to pop out, seconds later the phone cuts and Ran runs in the house from the porch, he grabs you by your waist and a camera in your face. Looking at him up and down he is wearing a slightly dirty Ghostface mask, a black long sleeve compression with black cargo pants. 

“Are you recording?” eyes wide as you look at him, a small smile on your face, “yes that's ok right,” he asks, moving the camera out of your face, shaking your head up and down as you wait for his next move. He moves his hand to your neck, the camera in your face once again, he grips your neck pulling up to the mouth of the mask, “Strip and go lay on the couch.” 

Stripping from your clothes you lay on your stomach you ass in the air, watching Ran as he moves the camera in front of your face, the light on the camera shines in your gorgeous face. Ran takes his cock out of his pants and boxers moving to sit up behind you. 

Ran moves a pillow under your hips, “Lay your hips down,” his voice low and husky has you lay your hips on the pillow- in the prone bone position- biting your bottom lip you wait for his next move, “Such a pretty girl.” He brings his gloved hand to your mouth a muffle moan leaves your mouth as Ran pulls your head back as his other hand reaches for his cock, rubbing the fat flushed tip against your wet folds. 

“So fucking wet,” he pants his voice low as he pushes his cock into your hole, a muffle gasp comes from you as Ran bottoms out in your cunt, his left hand moving to rest and grip your hip. He fucks his cock into your hole the sounds of his grunts and your muffle moans fill the room along side each other. 

“This pussy gonna kill me baby,” Ran’s cock brushes against your g-spot with his fast hard thrust, the light from the camera shines in your face as your eyes roll behind your head. Moaning, your eyes flutter shut, giving the camera a wink before you close your eyes. 

Ran fixes your position so your sitting up on your hands and knees your face still looking back at Ran in his mask, he moves his hand to your throat gripping as he looks at your face, Ran brings his other gloved hand down to your ass giving it a hard smack, tears slowly coming from your eyes. 

“Feel so good,” you groan through your teeth, Ran’s hand grips your neck tears streaming down your face as his cock roughly fucks your tight cunt. His thick cock stretching your tight hole “Keep sucking me in,” your warm walls sucks his cock into your cunt as you cum around him, liquid coming from your pussy, “Fuck baby did you squirt?” Ran moves the mask to the top of your head, his eyes never leaving yours as he chases his own orgasm. 

“Ran, don’t stop,” your body spasms from your orgasm, Ran soon cums deep into your hole whiting your walls as he fills your pussy with his nut. “I can’t stop fucking this sweet cunt Y/N.”

“This time Imma’ need you to scream for me”

©Bella2023

#Bella writes ʕ•̫͡•ʔ #kinktober 2023 #ran x reader #ran x you #ran x y/n #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #ran haitani #ran haitani x y/n #tokyorev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers ran #anime imagines #tokyo revengers x reader

[wooahaes]

the aftermath of trick-or-treating

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader

genre: fluff. single dad!jeonghan au.

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: candy mention. slightly suggestive comments from jeonghan that lead nowhere (he's just here to tease a little hehe). single dad jeonghan (bc hes. cute :( <3)

daisy's notes: @twogyuu hi holly

The sound of tiny feet running around your home was enough to tell you that Jeonghan had finished trick-or-treating with his daughter. And if that hadn’t been enough to clue you in, the weight of your soon-to-be step-daughter throwing herself into your lap definitely was.

Jeonghan had chuckled to himself as he made his way inside, carrying that neon orange plastic pumpkin in one hand and his daugther’s coat in the other, a bag hanging off of his shoulder. “Ha-eun,” he called out, “be careful with the pumpkin hat.”

(You didn’t fail to notice that Jeonghan donned a pair of kitty ears—Ha-eun could get her way with puppy dog eyes any day.)

She merely let out a giggle, hugging you tight, her squishy pumpkin costume folding around her. She’d peeked up to your TV, noticing the frozen still on the screen. “What are you watching?”

“Nothing, baby,” you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Scary things for adults. Can I see your pretty costume?”

With a gasp, she began to beam at the idea of showing off the costume Jeonghan had bought her. She hopped up, slowly turning around to show off the soft orange dress with little details to make it obvious it was a pumpkin—lines down it and leaves around the neckline. Jeonghan had painted her face to look like a jack-o-lantern, too. Jeonghan had told you that she picked it out herself after a long bout of deliberation at the store. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to be a princess, a pumpkin, or a skeleton this year. He’d tried to suggest that she could be all three if she went to Uncle Cheollie and gave him her puppy dog eyes, but she’d merely giggled and decided she would be a pumpkin because she’s always a princess (as told to her by Uncle Shua).

“How cute,” you mused aloud, smiling to yourself. Jeonghan had made his way over, settling into the spot next to you. 

He called out to her, picking up the tiny backpack that clearly belonged to her, “Why don’t you get changed? I’ll come help you wash off the paint and we can watch Halloween movies together.”

Ha-eun was strikingly mature for her age, and agreed easily due to the promise of movies (and snacks—she knew snacks would always be included in that promise). She ran off to get changed in your bedroom, the door shutting a moment later, and Jeonghan immediately turned to steal a kiss from you.

“I nearly took her to Joshua’s for tonight,” he mumbled. “I’ll just have to give you your treat later—”

Only for you to laugh, smacking at his arm. The two of you had agreed on this weeks ago: there was no way he was going to change his mind and deny Ha-eun of her movie night with her second favorite person in the world (... don’t tell Cheol or Shua that, though, Jeonghan had told you immediately after he spilled that little bit of information to you. Or Seungkwan, for that matter.), especially after you already made snacks. Jeonghan pulled away after pressing a second peck against your lips, pulling out a piece of candy from his pocket and pressing it into your hand.

“Ha-eun doesn’t like this kind,” he said, winking at you. “I stole it from the bucket when she wasn’t looking.” 

She’d never know it was missing either way, but you liked the way Jeonghan smiled at you like he was getting away with something. He got up to put the popcorn in the microwave, fetching the snacks you had made as you jot down the timestamp in the horror movie you’d been watching before changing it to something more family-friendly. Maybe you would forego the timestamp entirely and watch the movie with Jeonghan after you put Ha-eun to bed for the night. You heard the sound of his daughter coming back out of your room, calling out to her dad that she was ready to wash the facepaint off. All too soon, she had settled between the two of you again for movies.

And just as soon, she’d fallen asleep on top of you, exhausted from the exciting day. Jeonghan merely took the opportunity to lean over, smiling into the kiss he stole from you, all with the taste of candy on your lips.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

#wooahaes.fall23 #wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan fluff

[stinkykitty8]

My beatiful boy Hanz

(Hanz belongs to me!!! Everything else credits to Gatobob!!!)

WARNING

This post contains very heavy topics, nsfw, r@pe, 18+ stuff, and overall just not very good things. Do not read if you are sensitive to these things.

Read warnings before pressing more please!!!

Hanz was conceived through rape. After Ren ran off Strade tried to find a replacement for him. The replacement being a very beatiful woman and yet another victim to Strade's doings. Unlike Ren, Strade never let her roam free to make sure she doesn't escape the same way Ren did. Instead she was locked in the basement 24/7 shackled and collared and checked daily to make sure nothing was lose or she tried breaking off. Thats where she stayed the entire time being with Strade as he abused, tortured, and r@ped her. And through all of this she had fallen pregnant which wasnt surprising. Strade was actually expecting it to happen. Strade decided to go along with it and make her have the baby. Almost like he wanted a kid. Shortly after Hanz was born Strade really didnt see any other use for Hanz's mom so he ended up killing her and burning her body to ash. The ash is currently burried in his back yard. Hanz will never find out what happened to his mom and if ever asked Strade would never say, change the subject, or just shrug it off and laugh. Hanz was a little spoiled rich kid growing up. He was sent with 20 bucks ince for snacks at school and hes seen as a rich boy. Strade never hit him once (even though he needs it) and the worst he probably did was just yell but that was it. Strade didnt really care when he got phone calls from school because of Hanz's behavior. If anything he found it funny and encouraged it as long as he didnt go to far to be kicked out. He especially found it funny when it came to messing with Yoki. After the first day of school strades interest was peaked after Hanz mentioned a certain orange tail and ear having freak from school. And after finding out that little beast belonged to Ren he just encouraged Hanz to fuck with her more. Basically using him to get to Ren. Although Strade never physically abused Hanz he mentally abused him without Hanz really even realizing or noticing. He raised Hanz "like a man" so most times it was just him telling hanz to suck it up or trying to make him have the mindset to act like a man and not give a fuck about much else. It made Hanz really treat women horribly at that time and even the smallest things like a dude having something pink he would call them gay. Even refused to hold a purse because 'it was to gay'.

Hanz was always seen as the tough kid in school, always threatening to beat kids asses or threatening them that his dad would take legal action if they hurt him. He was all bark no bite though. When put in an actual situation like fighting he would fold and pussy out. He got into a fight once with Yoki and she left without a scratch and he left with cuts and bites that later got infected. Strade was pissed, not because Yoki hurt hanz, but because she hurt his blood. And it was almost seen as a disgrace to him and would tell Hanz how disappointed he was. Hanz always tries to be perfect and make his father proud so of course he apologizes because he thinks he didnt do enough especially for that. Hanz would do anything to make his father proud even doing things out of his comfort zone.

Strade always kept a thick padlock on the basement door and because of the sound proofing nothing was ever heard down bellow. Hanz always thought he just wasnt allowed down because thats where Strade worked and it probably had a lot of tools or objects Hanz woukd hurt himself with. One day Hanz got a little to nosey and decided to explore the basement after Strade left to the store but strade forgot his keys and came back to see the basement door open and Hanz nowhere to be found. What Hanz saw down into the basement changed his entire view of life and his entire perspective of his father. He probably saw some very badly tortured woman tied to a pole bleeding and begging Hanz for help. Of course any young child would be horrified of this even though Hanz says he could take things like that. And so when trying to leave the basement strade was standing there up top glaring at him. Strade locked the basement door with Hanz in it and left Hanz in the basement overnight. Even though Hanz was kicking, hitting, and screaming at the door repeatedly apologizing, Strade did not allow him out until the morning. Even mocking hanz saying things like "I thought you were a man why are you crying?" Even though he was about only 12. Hanz learned very quickly not to snoop around again. After that he was very quiet at school and stayed to himself. Messing with people seemed to stop and he even went so far as to give shitty apologies to the kids he fucked with. He couldn't tell anyone what he saw or and learned so he kept it a secret and "maned up" like his father said. The strong live and the weak die. He pushed that mindset on Hanz so much he believed it and began thinking Strade was doing good by just getting rid of the weak and cleaning the world. Over time Hanz was forced to help with streaming until it was basically his new job. But over time it got a little easier for him since it became a normal thing, even though he still had an ick for it. But he had to do it to make his dad proud.

Over time he ended up starting to form a semi relationship with Yoki. Nothing serious. He never really knew much about Ren either at thay time until snooping on the web and checking out some of Strades older streams and seeing Ren in them. Of course recognizing it was Yoki's father he told Yoki about it and she just couldn't believe it until she saw it and then it brought out into a small fight that was settled. Hanz had always tried to be seen as some big hotshot badass but deep down hes really just a big softie. Especially when hes older. Hes still a prick sometimes but not to Yoki or Basil anymore. Hanz is absolutely majestic. Overall just being a better version of Strade looks and health wise (Strade doesn't understand why hes so good). Unlike Yoki he actually has his own credit card and him and Strade split the cash they make on streams.

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ASK!!! :3

(Hopefully this all makes sense XP)

#btd #boyfriend to death #btd oc #fan kids #btd fan kids #ren hana #strade #hanz #tpof #the price of flesh #kittys fan kids #kitty8 ocs #art

[saelique]

CHEAP BEER & FRIDAY NIGHTS

cinna’s note : wrote this at 2am n finished it in a library. why do toddlers scream s’ much D: my feet hurt ;;

tw : blood, guns, the usual mafia stuff, one death threat, alcohol ( beer ) ft. chuuya + mori, can be seen as platonic or romantic, angst / fluff !

the last time you see dazai osamu was when you were in your apartment, opening cans of beer to drink and eating cheap food from a convenience store nearby your home. 

it was a normal saturday night, one that happened every week. talk about stupid stuff with him and fall asleep on the sofa together with nothing but a thin blanket to keep you warm, the lights still on. 

you expected to see him when you were in your office, hanging around to escape his workload. until you don’t. 

you didn’t think too much about it. he’ll be back tomorrow. maybe he got sent on another mission without your knowledge, and so you buy some extra food in case he decides to crash by. 

seconds, minutes, hours which turn into days passes. and you presume he got killed by the boss. not really. 

you ask around when work is over, hoping for some sort of news, only to receive confused glances. then you realise you haven’t asked nakahara. he was nowhere to be seen as well for now.

the elevator’s doors open and you step in, only to hear a greeting. 

“hello.” 

a shiver runs down your spine when you recognise that voice. “oh. hello boss.”

awkward silence falls and you can barely breathe, choked by the heavy air. petrified. you were scared. you never knew what made this man so fucking intimidating but you guess its because he looks the most normal out of all of you. but is practically a monster behind that facade of being fake nice. 

“you’re the girl that ex-executive dazai always hangs around with.” he commented, a smile on his face. “yes.” you manage to nod, before his words struck you. “ex-executive ?” you repeat, eyebrows furrowing. 

“yes. he defected a couple days ago. unfortunately no one could contact him.” he sighs. “a shame, dazai truly was a treasured subordinate.” bullshit. 

“I take it that you weren’t aware ?” “I was unfortunately occupied with reports. I apologise.” 

but why would he leave ? it doesnt make sense. and if he left, the people close to him would be suspects. and didnt he say that the port mafia was really where he belonged- 

oh. then you remember why you were stuck in the office with another worker for the whole day doing stupid paperwork. 

that bitch had known that you would be questioned. 

“dont worry,” that sickening sweet voice again. “well, I’ll have to go now. see you around.” he says, when the doors open and then he left. 

you sigh, then walk your office. you bite your tongue, so hard that it draws blood and you can taste the smell of rusted nails in your mouth. 

you walk to your desk and pull out a drawer full of small notes from him. taking one out, you rip it into small, tiny peices, coloured paper fluttering down the ground.

“you’re taking this better than I expected.” nakahara walks in, bottle of wine in hand. “I thought you would go out, look for him and then murder him.” 

“why is there wine ?” “wanna drink ?” you pause before silently agreeing. “sure. lets just go back to my apartment. dont wanna risk anyone seeing me drunk.” 

shockingly, four years pass quickly when youre preoccupied with shitty work. 

you ended up being nakahara’s assistant, a promotion that you hadn’t expected honestly. but the pay was good so you didnt have any issues. 

when you come back from printing some reports at two am, you find chuuya sitting in his couch, legs spread and his hat covering his face, asleep, soft snores escaping his lips. 

you hum, covering his sleeping figure with a blanket you found draped on the side of the couch, taking your briefcase and fixing your appearance, you left the building. 

waving over a cab, you quickly went into it and gave directions to your apartment, tired and wasted from the long hours. 

it soon stopped, signaling it’s arrival. mumbling a thanks, you stepped out of the taxi after paying. 

you walked up the stairs slowly, feet aching from your heels. when you arrived to your door, already key in hand, ready to insert it into the lock. but just as you opened the door a crack, you stopped short. 

the light was on. 

swallowing a groan, you grabbed a gun from your belt and kicked it open. 

“get out from your hiding spot or I’ll shoot you in the head ten fucking times.” 

“aww, but you’ll shoot me even if I come out.” 

what the actual loving hell was he doing here ? 

turning around, you pointed your gun at him, rolling your eyes. “the fuck are you doing here dazai ?” 

“it’s friday.” 

you scoff, still holding the gun up to his head. “we dont even do that anymore. leave.” 

“mmm . . . i bought some beer though, it would be a shame if you drank it alone-“ 

bang. 

smoke hisses behind dazai, a hole shot clear through the wall. only then did you let your arm down, glaring at him. 

“i’m not going to deal with this bullshit. I’ve had a long day.” 

“the last time we saw each other was today’s date. wouldn’t you like to catch up ?” when did he become so persistent ? he changed too much. but you did too. 

you put the gun down your coffee table, running a hand through your hair, defeated. “i’m going to take a shower, dont pull anything funny or I’ll be dragging your ass to the port mafia and handing you over to ozaki’s team.” 

“got it !” 

you end up screaming inside the shower the whole time. 

when you come back out wearing your usual clothes, hair still wet and your towel around your neck, dazai looks amused but thankfully keeps his mouth shut tight. 

he was already drinking a can of beer, and  you notice there’s small splatters of blood on his beige trench coat.  

“so, how’s everything back in the port mafia ?” he starts as you open a can straight from your freezer, a pop echoing through the room. 

“as usual. i got promoted to become executive nakahara’s assistant.” you relish in his pained and disgusted look, knowing the friendly rivalry in between them that usually caused fights and included random buildings exploding. 

“him ? that slug ? couldn’t you refuse ?” “the pay was high.” “hmph.” 

“hows things at your new job ?” you ask, “is everything better there ? you’ve changed a lot so I guess so. you’re not the dazai I knew anymore,” your voice cracks, “what the fuck were you thinking ?!” 

tears fall down your cheeks as you get up from your chair, grab his collar, “did you know how much I worried for your stupid suicidal ass ?!” 

dazai stays silent, chocolate brown eyes staring back into your own. you let go of him and plop down your chair. “things are alright. altough there’s a co-worker named kunikida who always nags at me.” he replies, not talking about your sudden outburst. 

you avoid his glance before getting up yet again. “i’m going to the toilet.” 

the faucet is running and you’re splashing your face with cold water. eyes and nose a bit red and puffy. 

it wasn’t any use crying. that dazai wont ever ever come back and it’s not something that you could control. 

when you come back, you find your beer is already almost gone, so you grimace and pop open another one. the second one for the night. 

“you’re working at the armed detective agency huh ?” you sigh, “I hope you manage to get killed in one of your missions.” “youre so cold.” “only to you.” 

“you didnt lose an eye after all.” you comment, staring at where his eye bandage had been. “was that really just for fashion ?” 

he doesnt answer and you dont talk anymore. 

it continues on for a while until he breaks the silence. “i’m sorry.” 

“im not accepting it.” 

“knew it.” 

silence envelopes the room yet again, and the only sounds audible is the clock ticking.

“I wont ever forgive you for a million years for pulling that. but, i’m quite a merciful person yknow ?” your words breaks the invisible wall in between you breaks a bit, cracks starting to form. 

he perks up in surprise, “what do you mean-“ “i’m willing to start over. but dont think I won’t try and murder you in one of those fights.” 

the young man chuckles, “alright then. to new beginnings ?” 

“to new beginnings.” 

#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #x reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader fluff #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ : novels !

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Five: Threatened to Reset

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Heiress of Gotham

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Summary: With the family's help everything is planned for the big move. A trip to Bludhaven to organize, pack, and move all your belongings leaves the past to be drug up. How will they react to your home? Will any secrets be found? Will emotions rise? Will your past be disclosed? It's all up to you... and maybe a crime boss and his goons.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: The usual Banter and Bickering, Cursing, Knives, Threatening, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Arguing, Fighting, Shame, Guilt, Fight or Flight.

Mentions of: Sex Trafficking, Criminal Activities, Police, Drug Busts, Prostitution, Assassins.

A/N: There's a lot of information to digest in the chapter, and really what was meant to be one chapters I actually am going to have to split up in order to make them manageable. It's been awhile, and while I'm still trying to figure out how to manage my life in the sense of hobbies, work, my health, a possible second job, and extracurriculars, I request you all be patient with me. I definitely do have more in store, yet for now this chapter isn't proofread (at least the beginning and end) I just need to get this one out.

Having discussed tomorrow’s events as a group at dinner, your Father let you lead the charge in what would happen with your apartment’s belongings. Decided on packing everything up and either donating the things you don’t need, storing the important things, and transporting the things you do need, it all was simple enough. Nothing a little packing tape and rounds of boxes won’t fix.

Starting the day with a hearty breakfast from Alfred, you all packed into a minivan you didn't know or think the Bruce Wayne would ever own or have anything to do with. Nevertheless, the ride was fairly timely to get to your old apartment building. Saying hello to the few neighbors coming in and out who you recognized and knew, you led the gang the seventeen flights and begrudgingly let them inside. You knew sooner or later they'd out where and how you lived. It definitely isn't as nice as Wayne Manor, but of course, what else could you expect?

Assigning everyone to different spots and or groups of items in the apartment, you really feel like they went for overkill. A welcoming and slightly overwhelming sense of love blossoms in your chest as they really didn't all need to help, but everyone insisted on coming. Even Tim's girlfriend, Stephanie. How nice, you think, for someone to actually care that much to go out of their way. Family almost congesting the apartment, you focus on your room and belongings. The fact that Damian hasn't even made any rude remarks (that you know of) is surprising.

After almost everything is packed and it's a few hours past noon, Alfred gets tired. Damian insists he's spent enough time in this 'hellhole' and almost demands that Alfred take him home. With the time having gotten away from you and some of the others, it seems to no one's surprise that Tim and Stephanie also apologetically explain their need to leave. They have homework they need to get done; and with that, Alfred agrees that it might be best to head back to the Manor with everyone who needs to leave. Dick lives in Bludhaven, so there's no surprise he'd stay, and while Jason has his motorcycle, he says he doesn't mind staying until it's all finished. Bruce having come separately after checking in at work explains that the two of you can drive back together once everything's done. It'd been lucky enough that he'd brought his car, and not one of the nicer ones, either.

Searching all the nearby boxes, you don’t find it. It’s nowhere to be seen, and if it’s not here then that can only mean one thing: They took it. Opening up the box near the kitchen you retrieve a butcher’s knife. Hand gripping the handle tightly you storm to the front door and lock it.

“Woah, woah- what’s going on?” Jason asks, hands raising in concern as he stops boxing the books that’d been on the nearby shelf.

With a tense look in his eyes, you adjust the knife in your palm, getting a better and more sturdy grip on it. Other hand rising to your mouth you place your pointer finger before your lips. A tacit command of ‘silence’. Jason’s fear had drawn the attention of the other two, though you ignore them as you quickly storm through the living room and down the hall.

Eyes flitting back and forth out the window, up and down the fire escape you quickly return with the same fervor you’d previously held. “Why do you have a knife?” Dick questions.

Back to the front door, you simultaneously listen to the hallway, hoping that if anyone were to come, you’d hear them first and be ready. In the attempt at a raid via bursting in through the door, at least you’ll be the first one in the line of fire able to protect everyone. While the worst case scenario always pops into your mind first, you’re not oblivious to the measly chance this could simply chalk up to coincidence. Holding out the knife, you point to each man in the room as your gaze shifts between them.

“Look. There was a gun in there last time we were here. It’s always there. If none of you have seen it, let alone packed it away… then we have a big problem,” you reveal. Knife pointed in the direction of the safe that's now open within a drawer of the tv stand, it's clear that everything else has been packed away.

Between the couch and television diagonally to your left stands Dick. Hands raised, he holds a stoic expression as he stands closest to the safe. His blue eyes flit to Jason. Knife shifting toward him, he too stands with his hands by his waist, palms facing you. Eyes filled with confusion and concern, he shifts his weight as he stands across the room in the corner between the kitchen's counter and beside the opening to the hallway. His green eyes shift to Bruce.

Before you can even turn the knife on the man closest to you, diagonally standing in the kitchen opening to your right, someone speaks up. “I took it,” Jason announces. All eyes dart to him and you watch as he slowly starts to reach around his back towards his waistband. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Bruce move.

“Don’t!” You warn, stepping back and pointing the knife at him. He’s not going to disarm you. Eyes back on Jason, you motion with the knife for him to place the produced gun onto the table between you two. Gun dangling from his fingers, he doesn’t move, so you gesture again with more of a ferocity this time. “Put it on the table.” It’s a command, not a request.

He slides it across the table. Three steps close the distance between you and the item. Though Bruce could easily do something behind your back, just out of your peripheral vision now, you focus on the task at hand. One look at the gun has you skeptical; face tense, you use the knife to turn the gun around. The examination is short. One flip of the gun onto its other side and a quick lift into your hands to make sure the safety is on, you release the bullet cartridge to find that one bullet is missing. With a click of the cartridge locking back into place, you toss it back onto the table.

Storming back to the door where you're at a far enough distance from all of them, your forearms rest against the splintering wood, face buried within them for a moment to gather yourself. Slowly turning back toward the men, but more specifically Jason, you glare daggers at him. “Why didn’t you just tell me you had the gun when I first mentioned it missing,” not waiting for an answer, your head tilts a bit as you don’t play his game. “Nevertheless, did you really think I’d be stupid enough to not recognize that that’s an entirely different gun? So what’s your game?”

Silence lingers. Jason knows he’s fucked, and they all know it too. Why did he think she’d fall for that? It was worth a shot, sure, but the real gun is still back at the Batcave. However, she can’t know that. “There’s no game,” Bruce says your name, a sincere look in his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you,” you bark, knife turning on him as he tries again to take a step closer. His hands are still raised in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.

The silence is expected, however, the smile that creepily inches across your lips is not. A shift of the knife in your palm has you gripping the handle in an underhanded approach, ready to stab, rather than slice. “Ha,” you scoff, “I knew it… too good to be true. I can respect the lengths he’ll go to play his little games, but this is just beyond fucked. A ploy to what? Fuck with me, pretend to be my family, and now what? Kill me? I knew it. After yesterday, I just knew it was coming.”

“What are you talking about?” Jason asks incredulously, a hint of anger and fear within his tone.

“Who?” Dick asks coldly, taking a step closer.

“Antonio Marin?” Bruce asks. Eyes darting to meet his, you shift the knife in your palm again to get a better grip on it.

“Oh, you wanna play it this way? Act all fucking coy and innocent now?” Gears shifting, you eye the other two men. “Unless he’s just another victim to his plan, I don’t buy it. Richest man in the world and he’s a good guy? Yeah? No.”

“Should’ve known,” you sigh, shaking your head. “BPD? Too obvious.” With a sad smile and tears beginning to threaten your eyes, you chuckle. “Well if he wants me, then go ahead. I’ve got nothing left. If I’m the last piece to the puzzle then do it. Kill me. It’s three to one, I know you’ve got a gun and more than enough bullets to take me.” You thump your chest with your free hand, open, ready to accept your fate. “Do it! Shoot me, Jason. Right now! Kill me.”

As if the reality of the situation suddenly dawns on you, fear readily replaces the confidence you’d just boasted. Backing up against the door you shift the knife in your hand to a stabbing position again, as you continue to shift it, unsure which approach will be best in your defense. Suddenly you're terrified of what’s to come. “No… no. Three big men on one teenage girl?” The way Jason had hesitated, it’s apparent. “I knew he was expanding the business, but like this? NO.” Chest heaving with rapid breaths, you’re suddenly running on pure adrenaline. Panic sets in as you know what the man's got planned for you. “If you want me then I’m not going down alone. I’ll kill myself before I let that happen to me- and if that doesn’t work then I’ll mangle myself SO badly that nobody will buy me,” you threaten, voice deepening in a terrifyingly chilling way.

Placing the knife against your neck, you’re more than ready to take yourself off the table. You won’t let that happen to yourself. You won’t let anyone take advantage of you that way. A punishment worse than death is something you're not willing to participate in, nor offer.

Dick calls your name in a calm tone, one far too calm for this situation. “This isn’t any ploy, or game. We don’t work for anyone. If you think someone’s after you, you need to tell us. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh,” you relinquish too easily, knife falling back to your side. Turning to face the door your eyes settle against it for a moment before spinning back to face the man. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that Officer Grayson from the BPD was here! I’ll just tell you everything so you can either arrest me or take me out on his behalf!” With a step toward him, you raise the knife by your side again. “Do you really think I’m that stupid, Grayson? That I wouldn’t realize you’d try to get a confession out of me, record this- have them take a voice memo? This isn’t my first rodeo.”

"It's not like that. We're just trying to help! You can't seriously believe this is all some conspiracy against you," Dick argues. His voice is still calm, and while the raised brow elicits a begrudging irk and prick of paranoia in your mind, his words do nothing but continue to cause the gears to mentally turn. "If someone wanted to take you out there would've been easier methods. You would've been dead weeks ago."

A wry chuckle leaves your lips, a knowing smile still set on your features as you two stand off with one another. "Sure... if it was anyone else. Yet that's not how he plays his game and you know it."

"You still think I'm corrupt?" Dick asks, shifting his weight to lean into his hip on one side.

"How could you not be?! Look at me and tell me that you're not! That you don't know about Perdy Chapman, or any of the sabotage the BPD plays," you demand.

"I know about the sabotage. I don't know about Perdy Chapman, but if you know something," he recites your name, "you have to tell us. I can't do anything or help anyone if everyone's keeping secrets."

"What? So this is all a loyalty test? An attempt to get me to come back? There's no way he's that desperate."

"Come back? You worked for Antonio Marin?" Bruce pipes up, concerned blue eyes turning on you as he shifts his gaze between you and Dick. Hands still up in surrender, he takes a step towards you.

"Quit fucking with me! If this is because he thinks I'll rat, I won't! I'm not a fucking rat. We got out, we left! We don't owe him anything!"

"If you know where he is you need to tell us," Jason voices his concern, also taking a step closer. "No one is taking you back, no one is gonna hurt you. I'll be damned before that happens." Jason whispers your name, garnering your attention as he gives you a serious look, "If you think he's after you, we need to know. We can't help you if we don't know what's going on."

With a stomp and a slash of the knife by your side as you realize they're right, you won't do this without a stipulation. "Fine! But... I can't go to the cops. I can't... file a report. I can't do anything. Promise me-" you respond, voice starting off confident until his falls short of a whisper. Jason nods, starting to close the space as he pulls out the last chair remaining at the dinner table.

"No cops, you got it. Just... tell us what happened, what's going on," Jason concedes, hand settled on the back of the chair.

As you shake your head in decline toward the chair, Jason easily swivels it around and sits on his backward, attention on you. As you place the knife on the side table by the front door, you start to pace. "I... don't know where to start," you voice your thoughts.

"From the beginning," Dick encourages, voice gentle as he realizes Jason has made progress by building a rapport. Something he hadn't realized he could be making more of an effort towards, he supposes. Even if he already feels like he's done more than he can for the girl.

As the Detective sits on the back of the couch and Bruce leans against the wall, your eyes can't help but find his... your Father's. "I... I can't-" you realize. Steps coming to a halt, you find yourself face to face with the last person in your life who you feel like you can't lose. The only person you need to impress, to suck up to.

"This is important," Bruce says your name, head tilting further downward as he offers a more straight-on look with your height differences, not to mention the sympathetic look that cross his features.

Eyes falling to the floor, you shake your head. "I can't. I don't want you to look at me differently, and I know you will. There's no way you can't." It's a warning, a vague divulgence on the subject matter. There's no way this conversation can happen without someone's impression being changed or shifted. It's just not possible.

"That won't happen," Bruce reassures.

"There's no way it can't happen. You don't know!" You argue, hands gesticulating the emphasis of your seriousness.

"This is your safety we're talking about," Jason reminds.

"We all have pasts," Dick reiterates your name, "we've all done things. It won't change anything."

"I promise," Bruce adds on, following up with Dick's words. Crouching to be on your level, he holds out his pinky, and while part of you hesitates, the seriousness in his eyes begs for a piece of trust. An inkling of hope, sincerity, vulnerability, trust. Wrapping your much smaller pinky around his, you shake on it.

As he lets go and returns to leaning against the wall, they all sit in anticipation, waiting for you to speak. "From the beginning?" You question.

"From the beginning," Dick echoes again, trying his hardest to be patient. With a tacit gesture of his hand, he guides you to sit on the couch cushions. Despite his offer, you choose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, back leant up against it as Dick chooses to sit in the armchair to the left of it. Jason comes closer, perching himself on the edge of the tv stand, while Bruce lingers by the back of the couch to your right, still in your periphery.

"It... all started about, I don't know, two years ago?" Jason nods in encouragement, a sign for you to keep going. "I don't- I don't know exactly when, I can't really place a time or say because I didn't know- I didn't- I never thought- I mean," the words tumble from your lips as your thoughts begin to race with the memories. Heart beating faster, there was never a definitive point in time you could place. "He just... started coming over. After-" swallowing the thick lump that forms in your throat, the faint burning sensation of tears threatening to start welling up becomes real. "-Mom got laid off."

"Mhm," Dick hums, hands clasping in his lap as he expresses the fact that he's listening.

"Everyone knew who he was. We all do, but of course, you're nice to people you don't necessarily know. You don't wanna start any problems. I guess Mama met him one night when she was out with my Tia. He said he could get her job back, that he could help her make money again, that we wouldn't have to move, to get evicted. He'd get her job back. So he did. She didn't ask, she didn't even want her job back after everything they said and did to her, firing her just because of her skin- but... he did it anyways. He got her job back at the hospital and even got her a promotion. How? I never asked, but if you know Marin, then I guess you can imagine how."

"Then he told her she owed him," Bruce speaks up as you take a breath. His tone is definitive, certain, as if he knows. A shake of your head lets him know he's wrong.

"Of course, she went back to see him at the same bar. She thanked him, we all did... but that wasn't the end of it. He said if she ever wanted anything more, a side job, extra money, anything else, that he could give her that. That all she need do is ask." A sigh escapes your lips and you subtly shake your head again. you know you'll have to tell them. It'll get there eventually, yet there's no way of knowing how they'll react. "They became friends. I always thought he liked her, that's why he was so nice."

"But he showed his true colors, didn't he?" Jason comments, a dangerous and almost vengeful tone in his voice as he leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. His hands curl in and out of fists as he listens.

"No... he was... just nice." Finally looking up to meet their eyes, you gauge the room. Each man has a different expression on his face, looks of curiosity, intrigue, suspicion, and anger all around. "He'd be at the parties, come over, take us out, have a drink. He became a part of the circle, at least... for a while. I think it all changed when Mama said no to him. He asked her out, and she finally understood why he'd been so nice to her. Yet, that didn't change anything. Being friends, he was still coming around. Maybe he was doing more, becoming more distant, but not much changed. He kept offering, and offering, and eventually I think she figured if she had control, and it was something he'd offer, then how could it hurt? It was only after that year and once the gifts died down that, well..."

"What?" Jason raises his eyes again to meet yours as he'd been mulling over his own thoughts for a moment, head in hands. A chuckle shakes his chest subtly as his hands shoot out in gesticulation. "You can't just say 'after that, well...' and not finish the story!"

"Come on, Jase-" Bruce gently reprimands with a look.

"It's clear there's more," Dick interrupts his Father to address you, still in the position he'd been in. Eyes intent on your figure as he waits for an answer, a scowl on his lips.

"I finally asked him if there was any way I could do something. Something small to make money; like mow someone's lawn, pet-sitting, house-sitting... things like that." Eyes falling to the pilled carpet by your sock-clad feet, you pick at the fluffy brown fabric. "I had school. My mom would hate me if she knew I asked him, but everyone else was getting money, and I figured if he was like my Uncle or Dad it's normal to ask for those things... I think." Hair falling over your shoulders, it masks your face as you rush to get the rest of the story out.

"He... had me do jobs for him. It was easy. Deliver presents, bouquets, envelopes, packages, things like that. No problem, lots of people do that, right? But I was making at least a hundred every week, if not more, and, and I didn't think about it. It was easy money! I could buy whatever I wanted, I could save, I could spoil my friends, my mom... I never thought about it until I... got curious." Words trailing off, you risk a glance up at Dick. Tucking your bangs behind your ear, his expression is immovable. He's stoic; a pickup of heartrate leaves you anxious as you haven't been able to easily read him like many of the others.

The movement of Jason's lips slowly opening garners your attention, and as his eyes widen you quickly duck your head back down again. "You were..." he tests the waters.

"So one day I decided to stay. They never opened their packages in my vicinity. Never opened the presents, envelopes, packages, or undid the bouquet. It didn't feel right. I haven't gotten many presents in my life, but I'd think if I got a big one like those, I'd open it right away... see what it is." Continuing with your story, you didn't give Jason even half a fraction of time to finish his thoughts. "So I delivered the package like normal, watched them count out the money and hand it over before I was on my way. Around the corner, I was halfway down the block when I realized I could probably wait it out, hide somewhere across the street and watch them from one of the store windows. They wouldn't notice. I could just put on my hood, if anything, and... well, then it-" eyes shifting back up to Dick, you don't look away this time, "-it happened."

"I hadn't realized it but parked on the opposite side of the road and right by me out of sight from where I'd come there were cop cars parked. Cops lined up with their guns pulled, batons and riot shields ready. I froze..." At this moment it seems like the gears in Dick's mind are finally starting to turn and place things together. "I thought I was caught, for something I only suspected, but... within seconds the cops were ushering me out of the area while the second team were busting the gang of boys I'd come from for having drugs."

"They were using you," Bruce states, an air of sympathy encased in his word choice.

"You were a mule f-" Jason affirms.

"-But that wasn't the end of it," Dick says confidently, his dark blue eyes still set on you, unmoving, a quirked brow joining his visage. "You said you're out. So if that's true then how'd that happen?" He asks, finally shifting in his seat as his head slightly tilts. It's almost as if he's testing you. "Exactly," he clarifies.

"Once I realized what was happening I ran home. I-" jaw clenching, your eyebrows furrow as you don't want to have to admit this. Especially not when Dick looks so confident and arrogant. You know he'd seen you that day, just like you knew you'd seen him. A silent staring match follows,a few seconds, before your resolve crumbles upon the memories. "I told my mom. I was crying, and she was shocked and surprised and angry and mad and I didn't know what to do! I didn't know where to go or who to tell, and I knew she'd be mad but she said she wasn't mad at me, but at him and that it was okay because she was gonna get us out of it. We met up with Anto- with- with Marin," you correct yourself. "We demanded out, and... he let us go. He said we were free to go as long as we didn't say or do anything that went against him. MY mom didn't want us involved with him anymore."

"He just 'let you go'?" Dick reiterates.

"Yes. That's it," you reveal, a shrug following as you don't bother to make eye contact. "Now you know!" The revelation leaves you upset and unaware of anyone else's responses. You just know that this changes everything, now that they know... they know that you're a bad person. You dealt drugs. You worked for a mobster. A gangster, a criminal; you stocked up drug money, saving it, keeping it. Blood money, one could even claim in earnest... and you couldn't argue with them.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee , @azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse

#heiress of gotham #hog #my writing #my series #dad!bruce wayne x daughter!reader #dc comics reader insert #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #batsis reader #tws in tags #queue are my family #batfam series #dad!bruce wayne #batfam x sister!reader #jason todd x sister!reader #dick grayson x sister reader #dcu fanfiction #dc comics fanfiction #dcu reader insert #daughter!reader #alfred pennyworth x granddaughter!reader

[azullumi]

“and they were roommates” ; ayato & baizhu

summary — what is he like as your roommate? in correlation, how does he often act around his home shared with you?

includes — ayato and baizhu (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; separate

tags — fluff, modern au, domestic fluff if you squint so hard, no established relationship, some sprinkle of smau ; headcanons

note — i srsly dont know what ayato will take in college ; masterlist

ayato, your rich and sweet roommate

nice, sweet, caring, and gentle, he’s one of the best roommate you’ll ever ask for. it’s a wonder that he doesn’t have a ring on his finger and it’s no wonder that you two are mistaken as a couple from how you act around each other—having matching mugs and items, doing a lot of things together, and most likely choosing to spend time with one another even if there will just be silence.

despite the fact that he’s often busy and holed up in his own room, he still looks after you and as well as himself and you also do the same for him. he tells you if he won’t be able to come home or will be late, reminding you to keep the door locked and closed every time, and he worries for you if you’re nowhere to be found in your home. he opts for eating together with you and would even take you out.

he loves coffee—strong ones—in the morning and occasionally during the night when he’s busy working on something, perhaps some projects and paperworks. he appreciates it whenever you come knocking on his door and bringing him with a cup of it. however, nothing can beat his love for boba and milk tea, he often comes home sipping one on his hand and another one on the other hand that is for you.

is a messy but organized type of person and his room is a great example of that. it’s messy and things are everywhere the place but not displeasing messy—the papers are all compiled yet cluttered on his desk, his laundry isn’t folded but they’re all in his basket, his blanket is unfolded or wrinkled but that’s the only disorderly thing on his bed, and more.

but despite the untidiness of his space, it’s never dirty. he doesn’t keep plates and such in his room and will always eat at the dining area (he also washes the dishes if he’s done), he disposes of his garbage in the proper place, and he cleans after himself every time.

baizhu, your caring roommate, also a medicine student

extremely caring and attentive but not to the point that it’s suffocating. he’s helpful with the chores and is even patient when guiding or teaching you when you’re not used to some things. although the burden of all of the tasks doesn’t just rest on his shoulders as the two of you have schedules to specific ones and often take turns such as in cooking—it’s no problem, however, if one of you are unable to accomplish the task assigned.

he’s always the one to prepare breakfast and will be willing to pack you something, he cares for your wellbeing a lot and is not afraid to show it. although you wonder how he’s able to work so hard despite his busy schedule. he wakes up early, makes breakfast, does whatever he has planned for that day, and always comes home on time if ever he goes out. he also goes out for groceries, usually asking you if ever you want to accompany him or if you need something so that he can get you it.

you notice how he gets tired easily and avoids straining himself, would opt for asking for help from you if ever he needs to carry something heavy such as grocery bags. on that note, you sometimes find him passed out on the couch on a random afternoon but he wakes up easily, however—even if it’s just the smallest noise.

he organizes everything, food goes into the pantry or the refrigerator if needed, kitchen items and equipment will stay in the kitchen (absolutely no knives anywhere outside that area), personal belongings are not to be littered and mixed up with the other’s (he’ll lightly tell you off if you leave your things scattered), and the medicine should be stored in the proper place—he puts labels on some of it so that it’s not mixed with another one and to avoid confusion.

random facts about him: he prefers tea as its much healthier, doesn’t walk around the home barefoot, and he remembers where everything is placed—he has quite an incredible memory.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #baizhu #baizhu x you #baizhu x reader #baizhu headcanons #baizhu fluff #genshin baizhu #ayato x you #ayato x reader #ayato fluff #genshin ayato #ayato headcanons #azul.writes

[ukrfeminism]

A social worker turned interior designer is tackling furniture poverty by transforming the homes of social housing tenants through her charity.

Emily Wheeler, founder of Furnishing Futures, says the need for her charity is not just cosmetic design - domestic abuse survivors are often driven back to their perpetrators after being given empty social housing with no beds for their children.

When families escaping domestic violence are rehoused by their local council, properties are often stripped of all white goods, furniture, and flooring for health and safety reasons.

Having left their old homes suddenly without any of their belongings, families often end up in a flat or house with nowhere to cook or store food and no beds to sleep in, Emily Wheeler, founder of the charity Furnishing Futures, tells Sky News.

"There are no curtains at the windows, there's no oven, no fridge, no washing machine," she says. "Children are expected to sleep on concrete floors with no beds or bedding.

"Mothers may have experienced economic abuse or coercion and might not have access to their money and find themselves having to start again.

"So you can understand why some women think 'this is actually no better for my children than going back to my previous situation'."

Emily has been a frontline social worker in east London for more than 20 years. During a career break, during which she had her two children, she retrained as an interior designer.

When she returned to social work in 2014, she says austerity meant council budgets were being cut and previously available grants for social housing tenants were no longer funded.

"I've always seen furniture poverty throughout my career, but it had got worse," she says.

"I was meeting families living in these conditions without furniture and without access to support.

"When you look at the amount of stuff councils have to spend money on just to keep people safe, furniture isn't the priority."

Moved into empty flat two days after giving birth

Laura, not her real name, moved between different emergency accommodations while she was pregnant with her first child after being abused by her ex-partner.

She says she was offered a council flat two days after giving birth.

"When I first moved in it was all dirty, there was no furniture, no carpet, no cooker, fridge, or washing machine.

"I had to take out an emergency loan from Universal Credit to get away from my partner, so I didn't have any money left when my baby was born. The first couple of nights I could only eat takeaway food because there was nothing to cook with.

"It had concrete floors. I'd get up in the middle of the night to make my baby a bottle and it would be freezing, so I had to put blankets all over the floor."

Chief executive of the National Housing Federation Kate Henderson says: "In social housing, carpets have historically been removed as standard practice for practical reasons, to ensure hygiene between lets and to prevent any possible contamination.

"In some cases, housing associations provide new flooring as standard when a home is re-let, or in other cases they may provide decorating vouchers to new tenants, which can be used for flooring of their choice."

According to a 2021 study by the campaign group End Furniture Poverty, only 1% of social housing properties are furnished.

Councils under 'no legal obligation' 

The Housing Act 1985 states that a local authority "may fit out, furnish and supply a house provided by them with all requisite furniture, fittings and conveniences".

But Emily says this means there is no legal obligation to do so.

"Councils are fulfilling their duty by providing housing, so in the eyes of the law they're not doing anything wrong.

"But having an empty shell of concrete is not a home - just because you're not on the streets."

Having seen the problem on a wider scale when she began chairing multi-agency child protection conferences, she decided to combine her skills as a designer and social worker - and create a charity to help bridge the gap.

Furnishing Futures was set up in 2019. Emily and her team refloor, paint, and furnish empty properties given to trauma and domestic abuse survivors by councils.

She uses her industry connections, which include Soho House, DFS, Dunelm, and others, to source donated furniture, and fundraises for the rest.

She believes it is the only charity of its kind in the UK.

So far they have furnished more than 80 homes across east London, and a pilot scheme with Waltham Forest council and housing association Peabody will see another three completed there.

But with thousands of families on social housing waiting lists in each of the capital's 32 boroughs alone, she wants to expand nationally.

"The hardest thing about my job is having to say no to people because we don't have the capacity," she says.

"Every day we get inquiries from women, midwives, health visitors, other local authorities, domestic abuse agencies - but we're just a small team and the demand is huge."

The charity has a 4,000-square-foot warehouse, a team of five full-time staff, and a group of regular volunteers who help with flooring, painting, and assembling furniture.

As situations are often urgent, work is usually done in just one day.

Empty homes are form of 'revictimisation'

Jen Cirone, director of services at Solace Women's Aid, one of the charity's partners, says being housed in an empty home and having to start again is a form of "revictimisation".

But she says of the charity: "It's not only the practicalities of having a beautiful space to live in but also demonstrates that others care.

"Together, Furnishing Futures is able to complete the road to recovery that work with Solace has put them on."

Hannah, not her real name, is another of Emily's clients.

She was homeless after leaving her ex-partner and given emergency accommodation a day before she was due to give birth to her first child.

"I felt extremely stressed and vulnerable," she says. "As a victim of domestic violence and heavily pregnant, I already felt alone and unsupported.

"This empty space didn't feel like 'home' and it certainly wasn't suitable for baby."

As a type one diabetic she also had nowhere to store her insulin injections, she adds.

"I ended up staying in hospital for some time due to an emergency C-section and during that time Emily turned my empty, scary space into a home for me and my child."

Emily says that although COVID and the cost-of-living crisis have opened the conversation about poverty and how it affects domestic abuse survivors, the situation is "worse than ever".

"We're not just talking about poverty now, we're talking about destitution," she says.

"People need safe and comfortable homes. You won't be able to recover from trauma, rebuild your life, and be a productive part of society if you don't have your basic needs met."

A Department for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities spokesperson said: "Domestic abuse survivors deserve a safe home and we are grateful to Furnishing Futures for the work they do to help these families rebuild their lives.

"We expect social housing providers to play their part and provide homes that are of a decent quality, if tenants are unhappy, we encourage them to speak to their landlords.

"Our Social Housing Regulation Act is also driving up standards and strengthened the role of the Ombudsman so that it is easier for tenants to raise complaints."

#Articles #MVAWG #community #resources #Finance

[nanfrost]

An idea I have for a what-if Schneider survived, but with a slight twist. Might expand on this more with the right incentive.

It starts with Vertin in her own personal office in her suitcase, writing a new report for the Foundation. It has been months since the events of chapter 4 and Vertin is starting to get used to the new responsibilities and workload she has been given with her new position.

Today however, she was left all alone in the suitcase, a rarity these days after she had found a new family for herself. On this rare occasion, everyone seemed to be busy with something, leaving her all to her own devices. Even her trusted assistant who clings to her tightly like a puppy is nowhere to be seen either, for once having a matter she has to attend by herself.

So now, Vertin sits by herself, her report long since finished and finding herself immersing into the silence and quietness of her office.

It felt strange to her.

Just not too long ago, Vertin never paid attention to how silent her suitcase was. But now that she has a family, she realized just how empty things felt, and yet, it didn't necessarily bring her discomfort.

Instead, Vertin slightly smiles, partly out of appreciation of having some peace and quiet for herself after intense months of constantly working herself to the bone to accommodate for her new position, but also because she knows this silence is not permanent. That sooner than later, this place will be filled with noises and music again, and Vertin can talk to those she has grown far closer than anyone else in a very long time. That thought comforted Vertin.

And yet, she can't help but think to herself how it could be just a little nicer if a certain citrus scented girl was still around.

Her smile wanes, a tinge of sadness flash over her eyes.

It's silly isn't it? Vertin barely knew the girl, and yet she can't help but ponder about her every so often. Pondering about how things could have been, how things should have been.

Vertin knew nothing about Schneider, and at the same time she knew everything that mattered. That she was far too kind, too selfless, too loving to those around her to ever think about her own life.

Schneider was like her, and Vertin had really believed that she could save that girl. That she could give her a chance to live on and preserve her memories, and to find a way to move forward again after the Storm.

And yet, she failed, now left with nothing but memories she promises to preserve for as long as she lives. The memories of a girl so different to her, yet so similar all the same. The memories of a girl whose visage was that of a fluttering dove, one who imprints their impression onto you, only to vanish soon afterwards without another word. Stayed just enough to be remembered, gone far too quickly to truly be understood.

Vertin finds herself gazing at the distinctly folded clothes next to her desk, its crimson feathers still fluttering as if the one who once wore it still existed. The girl stood up and went towards the desk, her soft fingers gliding across the leather fabric of a coat far too big for the small woman.

She held it up to her chest, pressing the soft feathers gently onto herself as she closed her eyes briefly.

This wasn't anything strange to Vertin anymore, she had long made a habit to keep the belongings of her companions that were no longer present; a way to remember them.

But Scheneider had wished precisely for her to never forget her, and so she kept it close by instead of storing it carefully away with the others. Even if she knew she won't ever forget, Vertin wanted to make sure to herself, to be sure of herself that the girl whose memories still shine so brightly in her mind can continue to remain clear for however long possible. For a wish to stay fulfilled until Vertin can't remember no more.

Footsteps began to echo from far away, alerting Vertin as she opened her eyes once more. Her eyes misty, making it just a bit harder to see than usual. She wipes them away with her finger, before folding the clothes neatly again as she places them on the same position.

She hears a door creaked open, their footsteps now clearly audible inside her office. Vertin breathes out a short sigh, before turning to whoever was there, like someone from her crew or perhaps Sonetto, with the same stoic expression she always carries with her.

Except, the person that stood by the door was none of them, Vertin's neutral expression drops completely as her silver irises widen.

Standing beside the door frame was a small woman, her frame barely half the size of the wooden frame. Her frail yet still elegant body swayed ever so subtly, enough to communicate the fact that the girl was in fact there. That she was in fact present.

Schneider, the person Vertin has not forgotten, stood in front of her, their soft crimson eyes gazing back at Vertin.

This was an illusion right?

That's what Vertin immediately thought. It wouldn't be the first or last strange phenomenon to occur to her in this suitcase. She has seen many things before, albeit not something quite like this.

Yet, the figure moved forward, casting doubts onto Vertin's assumption as she stepped forward towards the gray-haired girl; her fingers grasping onto her chair ever so tightly.

"My lord?" The illusion spoke, their voice so awfully familiar. Can illusions really talk?

Vertin's hands began to tremble slightly, her eyes never once breaking away from nor blinked at her. She was frozen in the spot, staring at a perfect replica of the girl that shouldn't exist anymore. And yet, her voice felt so close, so palpable, she felt like she could reach for it right now and actually touch it.

Vertin wants to touch it, but this was still just an illusion. It has to be.

"My lord..." The illusion of Schneider broke her eyes away from Vertin for a moment, seemingly spotting something at the corner of her eyes. Was it the clothes? Can an illusion really pick up their surroundings like that, or is it just a trick? But a trick on what? What does it have to gain by tricking her?

Every question piles more and more confusion onto Vertin's mind, with no answer in sight. All she could do was watch the illusionary girl sway back and forth, before turning to look at her once more.

"Did...something happened?" Schneider spoke once more, the distance between them now shrunk exponentially, to the point that Vertin can make out the details on her face. The smoothness of her skin, the light paleness of her cheeks, her confused eyes, gazing at Vertin, an edge ever present to them that only helps to amplify how softly she looked at her; one so gentle and so fragile, like a single touch could shatter it in a single moment.

This was too real.

This "illusion" felt too real.

It reminded her of a spell once casted onto her a long yet still not long enough time ago, one that had also allowed her to see the same expression she was seeing now on this girl's face. That same fragility, that same softness, that same glint in her eyes.

Vertin couldn't help but purse her lips, trembling as they were.

"....Are you...real?"

Her voice was barely audible, her throat so utterly dried that it felt physically painful to even speak. And yet, she had to, for Vertin's hands was trembling from gripping onto the chair far too tight and far too long now.

Schneider's expression swayed slightly, as she seemingly took her time to process the question. Then, an agonizingly long second passes by as the girl's look at her once more with those same crimson eyes.

"Do you want to find out?"

And without another word spoken, Vertin dashes towards her, arms wrapped around the girl as she slumps onto the floor.

Vertin's hands gripped onto the girl tightly, feeling the fabric of the familiar jacket she had held in her arms time and time again now filled with genuine life once more. The crease of the fabric stretches and pulls with each subtle movement from its wearer, so lively with each one.

But most of all, Vertin could sense her heartbeat, a rhythmic, slightly faster than how it usually should be, pounding ever so gently on the same side of where Vertin's heart laid. A right heartbeat.

Vertin gasps, yet no air left her lungs. Her arms closed around the girl's soft body ever so more, as her shoulders began to tremble.

Schneider stayed still, her face flashing through many different emotions as she struggles to find one to stay on, but as she feels Vertin's trembling shoulders, her tight fingers clasping onto her coat so firmly as if for just a moment of careless could cause her to slip away from the girl's hands once more; Schneider stayed quiet, as she wrap her arms gently around Vertin.

The Timekeeper doesn't express emotions. It's what the girl had come to learn for herself. She had learned to process them, understand them and then bury them under her mind, to keep all her emotions firmly set in place. It's what was expected of her, what was needed of her. She had not abandoned her emotions regardless, no matter what anyone tells her she should do, but she had learned to keep them in check, to not let others worry about her.

Yet now, her arms wrapped tightly around the citrus scented girl once more, feeling her soft breath against her neck once again, and that very same girl could only let streams of tears run down her cheeks as her eyes remained still like glass.

After all, even a Timekeeper would cry when witnessed a miracle.

#reverse 1999 #vertin x schneider #schneider reverse 1999 #schneider #potential idea that may blossom into something more #my way of coping #I like them too much man #writing #vertin #spoilers #r1999 #a potential fanfic I may or may not be working on? #re1999 #verneider