#HE CALLS YOU CUTE WHEN YOU ASK FOR CURRY

[f0ofishies]

FL*SHING THEM AFTER AN ARGUEMENT

tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi, oikawa tōru

Tsukishima Kei, your beloved fiance. You loved the man to death, you swear.. it's just that he's always been like this. All of the damn time. There was one time when you argued over dinner because someone didn't want to eat Italian. Seriously? How'd you even date this guy and later on accept a ring from him.

Just kidding, he has his cute moments. The man had prioritized you a lot during his college days. He must've fallen hard for you, huh? When he did get on one knee, you thought it was a prank. Nonetheless, you said yes— already being engaged for 4 months, too!

Back on topic, he's always been a cranky mother fucker and even more when he lose that volleyball match. You looked at him— in astonishment. This man had the audacity to even be too confident in a little fun of chess?

You couldn't even believe the audacity of him. He'd been laughing at your move on your black horse.. "Gee, just get one with it, babe..!" Another ridiculing sentence from him could've sparked a fire inside you. "Hah? Seriously, why'd you even do this rematch— when you clearly don't know chess."

Your eye must've twitched at that, you love him, and you swear to that on your life. But, seriously, he's getting on your last nerve. As he quickly moved his queen, grabbing your knight in the process. You moved another piece as he smiled. "Thank god, we don't do rematches in volleyball."

Your joke immediately made his smirk turn sour. As you chuckled to your own statement, your eyes glanced up to his. He immediately gave a disgusted face at you. "What, Tsuki?—" You tease, almost pinching his face as he has moved away from your hand.

"What is your problem..?" Now that made you raise an eyebrow. "My problem—?" He can't be serious right now. And that's how he ended up giving you the silent treatment, ending the chess match when it just started. You were utterly confused... even bewildered by his actions

Knowing your fiance won't crumble to a piece of you, you just quickly called out. "Kei?" He didn't even look at you.. oh, so that's how he was going to play. "Tsuki?" No budge, huh? The man had some nerves for ignoring his future wife. "Tsukishima Kei." Last call, he finally whipped his head to you.

Rolling your shirt up— his golden brown eyes dilated at the sight of your perky, wait, wait, this was cheating. "That's right, doofus.. I know you can't ignore them." You could totally hear the clogs in his brain working. Even bouncing them a bit— He quickly pulled your shirt down. "Hey—! what was that for??"

"You're in one hell of a ride, do that shit again. I dare you, baby."

How much aura did you gain after marrying the Ushijima Wakatoshi? You, the lovely wife, as ever.. had always been the cheeky one in the marriage. During one of his games, you'd literally chant his name out so loud. Maybe the whole stadium could hear you.

He'd be there happily, holding the ring chained around his neck. Giving you a small smile— You couldn't help but beam as you show off your ring finger too! Now that was months ago, your husband came home in a sour face after meeting his parents.

"Baby, how were your parents?" You asked him, quickly smiling as you cooked your signature curry. "Fine like usual." His deep voice caught you off guard as you felt a hand crept behind you. "Oh, so what did they—" "Can we not." You tilted your head.. "Sure.. okay." You compiled because who were you to say anything about that?

You looked at him as he ate, he felt your stare. "Yes, love?" The way your hand had been tapping on to counter.. like crazy. Lost in thought, you look up at him. "Toshi.. you know you can tell me anything?" Of course he knew that so he raised an eyebrow. "I know."

You were itching to know why he's so persistent on not telling you why.. he would usually just tell you at this point. But he seriously didn't want to talk about it, so he dismissed your concerns once again. "But babe.." You whined.. something in him just snapped.

"No, can you stop trying?" You huffed at his tone of language.. it was kind of your fault for being this nosy. So now here you were having a full blow argument. Were you petty? Definitely, a hundred percent. So when your husband had genuinely left you in the kitchen. You huffed—

Clearly, he needed a lot of space, huh? Shutting the bedroom door very tight— you wanted to go sleep there, but how? He had locked it from the inside. "Toshi..?" You called out. No answer. "Ushijima Wakatoshi!" You yelled out and finally the familiar 'click!' You finally let out a sigh and practically go in fast.

He's still on the bed, clearly trying to sleep. "Toshi..~" Your sweet velvety voice intoxicating him then sliding onto the bed— even straddling onto him. Still, the man laid bare, not even checking you out. You intentionally grind, trying to find the best friction. His hands finally with all of its glory wrapped around your hips.

"Look up." Your command might've sent a shudder on your poor husband. The blood pumping down to his familiar friend down there— oh how a vixen you were.. Seriously, he saw the way you held your shirt up. Those breasts out in the air just for him. "Mmm? Want it bad?"

"I swear, wife— you're always all talk and no action.."

That Argentinan volleyball player was taken by you! Who knew he had the hots for you. Tōru Oikawa, he had recently left Japan for Argentina.. then he met you. Somehow, you two clicked. Clearly, you only thought he was just getting into your pants but nope!

The infamous girlfriend of the volleyball player never really visited his games. Probably because your work always consumed your time. Tōru was beyond okay with that— of course he was. But after such a long tiring game, all he wanted to do was a date night with you. Sadly, you were still out at work.. in overtime. How could you not remember it at all? When you came home, his first response was immediate silence. Seriously nothing!!

"Tōru?" You called out in the shared apartment, finally slipping off your shoes. Stretching your arms wide as no response. "...Babe?" You called out once more. Absolutely nothing— you panicked, of course. Already running around to find him.That's when you spotted your sulky boyfriend, buried deep into the bed among all the plushies you have.

"Shit, babe.. did something happen at practice?" You asked him as he finally noticed your presence. An immediate huffed was heard, thanks to him. "Babe..? Baby..!!" You whined the petname, trying to uncover the blankets.

There he was, your lovely boyfriend. Tōru glared at you, those dark brown hues of his. "What's made you so sour..?" You asked him once more, trying to coerce him out of his moodiness. "I wonder why." He interrupted you, that made you raise an eyebrow. "Babe..."

You were utterly clueless, even when he avoided your touches. It suddenly clicked to you, a promise to him on for a date. You internally groan at that, "Shit, Tōru you know I didn't mean to forget.." Your hand itching to grasp his— yet he pulled away once again. "You always forget about me.." He whined into your shared pillows. "No I don't.. baby.. I'll make it up to you!!" You try to reason with him.

That's what got him to lash out at you. You did kind of deserve it— so here you are on the bed trying to get a sulky Tōru out of your shared bedroom once more. An idea popped into your head! "Tōru.. I have something to show you.." You found the man finally walk out of the bedroom. His disheveled appearance still looked way too good for your own eyes.

Your fingers found their way to your blouse— giving him a sweet smile. Only halfway through, you were damn thankful for picking a good bra for today. "Baby, I'm really sorry.." You whispered. And finally— your breasts were in full view of his sight. Nothing could have prepared you for the feral Tōru ravishing you!

The man was full on groping your breasts, even fiddling with those buds.. was he really that turned on? You couldn't believe you've let him play with you like this. On the tips of your heels— you needed more friction down there, too. So you whined at him, how your cunt needed his fingers too! And that's what he did, dipped them into your soaked panties.

"Fffuck— that's not fair, babe.. yknow your boobs and pussy are my weakness..!"

[everrinsly]

a/n; somehow, i always imagine the boys being very flirty as they grow up hahah

a momager and her silly olympic team vibes.

the weirdo quick and the real mvp. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more olympic team shenanigans here!

more reads!

~~~~~

Even though the boys were all grown (late twenties now, by the way), you were absolutely appalled at how they still bickered like children mid-match. At the Olympics of all major events—

“Oi! Kageyama! Stop setting like you're mad at me or something!” Hinata snapped, slapping the ball down with a little too much force... right into the net.

On the other side of the court, France's setter stifled a laugh that was immediately shot down by Suna—still holding his signature pose, arms raised, hands in front of his face. His green eyes were narrowed, glinting with a lethal glare.

Kageyama scowled. “I’m not mad! You’re the one who’s late to the spike!"

“You’re the one who keeps shifting your timing!”

“Maybe because your fucking brain’s five steps behind your feet—!”

"Or maybe it's you that can't fucking count—!"

"I was calculating optimal trajectory—"

"Optimal trajectory my ass!"

"You fucking trained on sand—and you're still shitty—"

"WHA—the fuck did you just say?!"

Atsumu sucked his teeth on the sidelines. “Well, shit... here we go again.”

Komori leaned over from his libero crouch and whispered to Sakusa in the back row. “Three guesses who’s gonna fix it.”

Bokuto perked up, hands on his hips, watching the freak duo fight (just like he and Kuroo used to do back in high school). “Wait for it…”

From the bench, Iwaizumi had given up. Clipboard on the the floor. Coach was nearly hiding away in shame, muttering something to the assistant coach. Probably (most definitely) adding in an extra training schedule.

The referee on the court had already dropped the whistle from his lips, sighing like he can't be bothered because Team Japan was the root cause of all his problems.

And the jumbotrons?

The jumbotrons caught everything. The camera crew were having the time of their lives, recording the meltdown of Team Japan.

—So that’s when you stood up from your seat near the bench, clipboard in hand, eyes soft and kind.

As you jogged onto the court during a much-needed timeout call, Sakusa muttered under his breath, “And there she goes. The real MVP comes to the rescue.”

“Bet three curry buns she fixes it in less than twenty seconds,” Iwaizumi said, arms crossed, clearly already counting down.

When you reached Hinata and Kageyama, you gently pressed a hand on each of their shoulders. Slightly damp with sweat, but you didn't care. Not when you've took care of them since high school, at their very worst to their very best.

“Hey,” you voiced, all warm and calm. “What’s going on?”

Hinata looked down at you and pouted. Literally pouted. “He’s not syncing with me.”

Kageyama huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m syncing. He’s just zigzagging like a squirrel... on fucking caffeine.”

You fought a laugh. “Okay, but think about how far you’ve come. You two read each other like a book now, right? You’ve done this dance a hundred times. You’ve already got the rhythm—you just need to trust each other again.”

Their gazes softened slightly.

You smiled, giving Hinata a playful nudge. "Remember? You used to hit Kageyama's sets with your eyes closed, Sunshine."

You turned slightly to face Kageyama and patted his chest. "And you... make sure you imagine the spiker. Not just send it high and far, okay?

You leaned up to wipe some beads of sweat off each of their foreheads with your sleeve.

“Besides,” you added, “I kind of love when you pull that sneaky slide attack, so don’t make me sad, okay?”

Hinata smirked, a cute little tilt of his lips. "I can do that, sweets!”

Kageyama adjusted his uniform collar and ran a hand through his hair, grumbling, “Fine fine. I’ll fix my toss for your slide... you just stop looking at me like that.”

“Hmm... like what?” you asked innocently.

“Like that,” he murmured.

But before you could even respond, he stomped back to the net.

(They were just as adorable now as they were back in high school).

As you trotted off the court, Suna was staring at you with a deadpan look. “Must be nice having a buffoonish-ass love language.”

You giggled softly, teasing. "Wouldn't call it buffoonish if it works, Rin. Are you just jealous?"

“Hm. Maybe,” he hummed.

Atsumu let out an exaggerated groan. “Can we get a team-wide policy? No cute manager pep talks unless we all get one.”

“You want me to pat your head too, 'Tsumu?” you said sweetly, grabbing a towel and handing it to Ushijima.

Atsumu opened his mouth, then paused, a flirty smile adorning his lips. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no, sweetheart.”

Bokuto leaned over, buffing his chest out. “Can you pat me like how you patted Kageyama?”

“You smiled at Hinata like he invented the sun,” Sakusa added with a small scowl.

Ushijima blinked. “It was motivational. Very effective.”

“Uh-huh, damn miracle worker,” Iwaizumi muttered from behind you, voice low. "An how about you all stop crowding her now. You've still got a game to play."

Your face heated, and suddenly the entire bench was smirking.

Except for Komori, who cheerfully handed you his water bottle. “You handled that really well.”

You gave him a grateful smile, laughing softly. “Thanks, 'Toya... finally someone who's a little more gown-up than the rest of you all.”

And then, Suna appeared from behind, lips brushing close to your ear as he whispered, “For the record, if you ever wanna motivate me like that, I promise ten kill blocks every set.”

“Same,” Atsumu grinned.

"You're a setter, dumbass."

"I CAN BLOCK—"

"Nah, your timing's shit—even if I count for you."

"Oh fuck you—"

“Me too, by the way!” Hinata shouted from the court, already back in position and totally recovered. “I’d fail just to get my sweat wiped with your sleeve again!”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warm but heart fluttering.

“How about you all just get back out there and win,” you called, voice firm but fond.

They chorused a 'yes'—some louder, some flirter, some absolutely pretending they weren’t jealous as hell.

And as the whistle blew again and the ball flew up, Kageyama and Hinata moved in perfect sync, slamming down the point so fast it shut the opposing blockers down cold.

“Told you. Real MVP.”

[tangyneon]

Gojo Satoru doesn't believe in any deity.

And he argues he has every reason not to. Sorcerers, after all, never get miracles. All they get is cursed spirits and losses and grief. But if he did believe in some higher power... he'd wager they were trying to kill him tonight.

And the means of execution? You.

You are standing in the hallway of the apartment he has rented for Megumi and Tsumiki—he still has his place in Tokyo and the dorm at campus is technically his, but lately he chooses to stay here with the kids. Not that it matters right now.

Right now, you are clutching your blanket, like you are bracing for impact—not conversation.

Gojo knows that look.

You have worn it exactly twice in your nineteen years—fourteen of which he has been around for, though he likes to think he has known you your whole life—

Once, when you were eight, and asked if you could hold his hand on the walk back from some festival—he had said no.

And again when you were thirteen, asking if you could kiss his cheek on his birthday—he had said no then, too.

This is the third time you're wearing that look.

And Gojo still doesn't like it. Not one bit.

He prefers you loud—calling him names but still sharing your dessert, insisting you're a "proper Kyoto lady" before punching a curse in the eye with your bare fist. That version of you? He can handle her. Easily, even.

But this version? Quiet. Fidgety. Standing there in an oversized hoodie that looks suspiciously like—wait. That is his hoodie—

You glance up at him and ask, softly, "Can I... sleep with you tonight?"

Gojo blinks.

Then promptly short-circuits.

You seem to catch the look on his face then, immediately squeaking and waving your hands like a malfunctioning windmill.

"I—I mean just to sleep! Just—just! It's nothing weird—I just—I had a nightmare, and the wind is really loud tonight, and I can't sleep in the kids' room—like, they've got school tomorrow and there's no space, honestly—and I don't wanna sleep on the sofa 'cause it smells like old curry and crayons and your hair gel—so—so—"

Your fiancé wonders what's breaking him more: the babbling, or the fact that your face is flushed all the way to your ears.

He studies you for a beat—pretends to, really; he's just gathering his bearings—then exhales, long and dramatic.

"You're killing me, kid."

"Hey—" you glare, half-annoyed, half-embarrassed, "I'm only two years younger than you!"

"Still a kid," he hums, stepping aside and waving you towards the bedroom—a tired, lazy version of a welcoming gesture.

"Fine, fine. Come in before I burst into flames from how cute you're trying not to be."

You huff, but stomp in anyway, with all the dignity of a shy hedgehog.

As he shuts the door behind you, Gojo wonders—maybe for the first time in a very long time—if he should start praying after all.

Though, honestly, he thinks he wants to punch a wall first.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The bed isn't built for two.

Technically, it's not even built for one Gojo Satoru. He is tall, lanky, and takes up space—like an art form, the man often tells himself, specially when he wakes up with half his body hanging off the edge.

But now there's also you in here—his polar opposite, apparently. Curled up on the far edge of the mattress, wrapped in an awkward cocoon of blankets, like you're trying to shrink into invisibility.

"Y'know..." he props himself up on an elbow, watching your blanket-bundle squirm, "if you get any closer to the edge, you're going to fall off."

"I'm fine," you mumble, voice small and muffled.

"You're practically on the floor."

"Then maybe I should just go sleep on the couch—"

"No, nope! Too late," Gojo cuts in without missing a beat, "You already shattered my poor, fragile heart with your hesitant little 'can I sleep with you?' I'm going to be emotionally compromised forever now, and you're legally required to stay and make up for it."

You groan—less muffled this time. "You're impossible, 'Toru."

"And you're adorable," he fires back with a smirk—only for it to fall flat the moment he sees you stiffen under the blanket.

Gojo thinks he wants to punch a wall again.

He settles for lying back and staring at the ceiling instead—telling himself: this is fine. He is fine. He's survived countless assassination attempts, cursed wounds and meetings with the higher-ups. He can survive one night sharing a bed with his shy, weirdly conservative, overly helpful, too-gentle-for-her-own-good fiancée who makes the best sandwiches he has ever eaten.

Yeah.

This is totally. Definitely. Completely fine.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It's 3:16 a.m. when Gojo wakes up—to warmth.

Specifically, your warmth—your entire body pressed against his side like some kind of sleepy, heat-seeking entity.

Your head's on his chest, one arm draped over his stomach. Your legs are tangled with his like a sleepy octopus. Your breaths, soft and steady, tickle his collarbone. You are out cold, blissfully unaware that you have somehow turned the Strongest Sorcerer alive into your personal plushie.

He opens one eye.

Then the other.

Then begins to contemplate all his life choices up to this exact moment.

Now, this is the part where any reasonable man would shift away. Reclaim some space. Tug the blanket up. Maybe build the wall of pillows he should've made at the start of the night. Something. Literally anything.

But Gojo does none of those things.

Instead, he lies very, very still.

Only because your face looks so peaceful right now. Unguarded in a way he has never seen it when you are awake. You always smile too much, he thinks absently. But never enough for yourself.

You pretend it doesn't hurt when he forgets your birthday. You make excuses for him when he ghosts you—sometimes for days—murmuring that he must have been "very busy with work". You never say anything. But he knows. He sees.

Gojo isn't stupid.

He's just... maybe a little cowardly.

And yet, you are still here—curled into him, drooling on his chest like a puppy.

And your coward—ahem, your fiancé—can do nothing but melt.

He cranes his neck to check the clock on the nightstand. 3:21 a.m. Too early for missions. Way too late to pretend this never happened.

He glances down at you, still fast asleep. "You're using me as a body pillow, aren't you?" he whispers.

You just snuffle in response, burrowing deeper into him.

He sighs, soft and long.

"I should complain," he mutters to the ceiling, "I really should."

But he doesn't.

Instead, he shifts just enough to tuck the blanket higher over your shoulder, and slides his arm around your back—almost without thinking. You make a pleased sound—something soft and terribly adorable—and the man swears, swears on every moronic geezer's grave, he has never been this warm in all his life.

God, you're such a weirdo.

The huff of amusement rises in his chest before he even realises it's there.

Who sneaks out of a high-security, hyper-strict clan estate like yours, just to come all the way from Kyoto to Tokyo and help raise someone else's kids? Who brings freshly made side dishes, brushes Tsumiki's hair, helps Megumi with his math homework even when he acts like a gremlin?

Who smiles at Gojo Satoru like that—even when he forgets how to smile back?

"...Dummy," he murmurs, closing his eyes with a soft chuckle, "I'll allow this just for tonight."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

When you wake up much later—a gradual process with slow blinks, a tiny inhale, a rustle of the blanket as you stretch like a sleepy kitten—Gojo doesn't need to open his eyes to know. You're looking like a deer in headlights, frozen mid-stretch, having just realised where you are. And more importantly, how you are:

Pressed against your fiancé's side, arm curled around his chest, one leg wedged between his, hair a bird's nest, face—which had been tucked so comfortably into the crook of his neck until a second ago—now sporting a bit of dried drool at the corner of your mouth.

You make a sound.

A tiny, mortified, lowkey-dying-animal kind of squeak.

Now, Gojo could be a decent person. He could sit up, act like this is normal, pretend he didn't just spend the last three hours wide awake and disgustingly content holding you.

He could let you off the hook easy.

But where's the fun in that?

He cracks an eye open, stretching with all the dramatic flair of a man well-rested and well-cuddled. "Mmm," he drawls, "You're awake. And still clinging to me, huh? So clingy."

You let out a choked squeak and immediately try to pull away—but his arm, still very much wrapped around you, doesn't budge. He's not holding you tightly, exactly, but it's definitely still a hold.

"I—I'm sorry—I didn't—!! I must've rolled over in my sleep—I wasn't—!"

"Shh," he cuts you off, giving your head a gentle pat, "Body pillow privileges are all yours, fiancée. No need to panic."

You make a strangled noise in your throat.

Gojo adds, with a grin that's all too sleepy and all too toothy, "Though, you do drool a little."

You slap a hand over your mouth in horror.

He cackles, finally letting you go, flopping back in bed with both arms behind his head—utterly pleased with himself—as you shuffle out in a mess of blankets and flushed cheeks, muttering something about your toothpaste. Or maybe his hoodie.

He watches you go, grin widening when you toss a shy glance over your shoulder at the door—then bolt down the hallway the moment you catch him still watching.

And if, maybe, later that morning he insists on sitting next to you instead of across from you at breakfast—well. No one says anything. Nothing, except for a confused look from Tsumiki and a fatigued sigh from Megumi. Not even when he keeps looking at you instead of his omelette, wearing a small, possibly helpless kind of smile.

And he tells himself: yeah—Gojo Satoru doesn't believe in any deity.

But slowly, very slowly, he's starting to believe in you.

And that's worse.

So much worse.

(But maybe also kind of nice.)

find more fics about these two here!!!! © tangyneon 2025 || please don't plagiarise, translate or repost this || characters used here aren't mine || masterlist.

[kxsagi]

hello! I know I’m asking this on ur glorious main character goatsagi’s bday but w the recent manga leaks (IF U HAVENT READ THEM YET PLS STOP HERE) I have a request (SPOILERS BELOW)

Could you write abt Househusband!Nagi like in an AU where bro doesn’t become a pro footballer after his Blue Lock elimination 😞 and what you think he would be like? For example: he’s unhelpful post u guys moving in together until reader lwk crashes out from the strain of carrying their household on their back (poor reader) and then nagi locks in 😈 and they r happy!! Or they aren’t I feed off of angst so either is ok 😊

“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝! 𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐢”

a/n: this request is exposing how behind i am on requests 💀 BUT MY GLORIOUS GOATSAGI LMAOSJKSGJS

i’m all caught up to the manga so don’t worry! can’t spoil me 😼

i decided to not write angst for this one because nagi deserves to be happy after all the “burger king” jokes 

(i wish i knew art credits bc the art is so cute ☹️)

at first, living with house husband! nagi is like adopting a really pretty cat who doesn’t know what a vacuum is and keeps eating your leftovers. not out of malice, he just… forgets. or assumes you won’t mind. 

you do mind. 

"sei, did you wash the dishes?" 

"huh? no, i thought you were gonna do it after your class." 

cue the twitch in your eye. 

he’s not mean or messy. actually, house husband! nagi’s pretty neat. he wipes down the counters after he makes instant ramen and always folds his socks into perfect pairs. but helpful? not exactly. not unless you're standing there, giving him a step-by-step tutorial on how to do it. 

you didn’t expect it to be this hard. being the one who works, cooks, cleans, keeps track of bills, makes the appointments. he lounges around in oversized hoodies and his soft, soft hair, watching you buzz around the apartment like a stressed-out bee. 

and you love him, you really do, but love doesn’t clean the bathroom. 

so it happens. you burn out. 

it starts with you skipping breakfast. then forgetting to charge your phone. then breaking down in the laundry room because the dryer ate one of your socks and you’ve been on your feet for 12 hours and there’s no more clean towels. 

you come home and just. crash. 

no fanfare. no dramatic monologue. you face-plant into bed and sleep through dinner, still in your shoes. 

when you wake up, everything’s… quiet. 

no game noises. no crumbs on the floor. you blink blearily and shuffle into the kitchen, expecting chaos. 

instead, there’s house husband! nagi. hair tied back messily, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing a pot like he’s reenacting a cooking show tutorial. 

you just stare. 

"oh. you're up," he says, looking over his shoulder. there’s an apron tied crookedly around his waist. you don’t even own that apron. where did it come from? 

“did you… did you cook?” 

"mhm. made curry. didn’t know how spicy you liked it, so i made it mild and left the chili flakes on the side." 

you blink again. 

he glances at you, then at the floor. “also cleaned. and made a list of stuff we need. you look tired, so… i figured.” 

turns out, house husband! nagi just needed a wake-up call. he doesn’t like seeing you worn down. he doesn’t like knowing he was part of the reason. 

after that day, it’s like he flips a switch. he’s still the same laid-back, sleepy house husband! nagi, but now he folds your laundry with yours on top so you don’t have to bend down. he sets timers for the rice cooker and writes "don't forget lunch ♡" on post-its he sticks to your keys. he learns your favorite shampoo and stocks it before you run out. 

he even starts meal-prepping. you catch him slicing vegetables with alarming precision while watching cooking videos on 2x speed. when you ask him if he’s okay, he shrugs. 

“it’s kinda like a puzzle game,” he says, sticking a cut carrot slice to your forehead. 

he still doesn’t like vacuuming, but he does it anyway. with noise-canceling headphones and a sour face. 

"i miss football sometimes," he admits one night, curled into your side on the couch. "but this isn't bad, y'know? taking care of you. feels like i'm good at something again." 

your fingers slide through his hair. "you’re amazing at it." 

he hums, sleepy, a little smug. “yeah? then let me spoil you, okay? house husband! nagi’s locked in.” 

and you let him. because for all the lazy afternoons and pajama days and burnt toast attempts, he really is locked in. 

and the two of you? you’re happy. 

finally. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 7 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, fluff, kissing, very slight sexual stuff

❥ A/N: thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy!

"You're glowing, Y/N!"

"Really?" you ask, patting your cheek. "What makes you say that?"

"Have you seen yourself lately?" your coworker asks, calling out a name before placing a finished drink at the end of the counter. "Like, have you looked in a mirror? You're just so happy and bubbly lately; I love it!"

"Awww, thank you!" you reply, smiling genuinely. "I mean, things have been nice lately. A lot of good things have been happening to me."

"Or maybe it's because of a certain someone?"

The bell above the door rings as Guy walks into the cafe, holding a gift bag.

"Oh, there he is! Right on cue!" your coworker cheers, walking to the register. "Here to visit your girlfriend?" He nods and your coworker smiles, gesturing towards you.

"You have ten minutes to chat, but then she's gotta get back to work." You touch her shoulder.

"Thank you, Liz."

"Any time, hun." She leans in close. "Ask him if he has a brother," she whispers. You laugh, patting her back before exiting the work station, meeting Guy by a free table. He holds up the gift bag and you smile shyly.

"For me?"

"Of course."

You hum, taking the bag and pulling out the tissue paper. You gasp, pulling out a small red stuffed bear.

"It's so cute!" you squeal. "It looks like a gummy bear!" You hug the bear to your chest, swinging it back and forth. You smile up at him. "Thank you, Guy."

"You're welcome." He leans forward then stops, clearing his throat. "May I—"

You pull him down by his shirt, lips crashing into his. He inhales sharply, surprised, but smiles into the kiss. You stay there for a moment before pulling away, still smiling.

"You're a tease," he says, laughing when you gently slap his chest.

"Don't act like you aren't thrilled to kiss me."

"I am. I really, really am." You sway to and fro for a moment before leaning into his chest, snuggling into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight, kissing the crown of your head.

"Get a room," your coworker somewhat shouts, making you laugh. You try to pull away, but he's still holding you close.

"I don't want to let you go," he admits, pressing his forehead to yours.

"You have to." You boop your nose against his. "I gotta work."

"You could quit. I can take care of you financially."

"Nope!" You free yourself from his grasp by ducking down and stepping back. "I refuse to be financially dependent on you. Gotta keep some kind of independence."

He sighs but nods, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out this weekend? We could go see a movie and get dinner after?"

"Hmm, I was thinking of doing something else this weekend." He looks a tad bit disappointed.

"Like what?"

"Well..." you trail off, glancing around the room, "what if you come over and I cook you dinner?" His eyes widen, lips curling, positively lighting up.

"Really? You want me to come over?"

"Yes!" You curl into yourself, giving him doe eyes. "If you want to, of course."

"Yes," he says quickly, unashamedly. "Yes, I would love to. Should I bring anything?"

"Just yourself. I'll get all the ingredients and whatnot and we can watch a movie on the couch or something."

"That sounds amazing." He sounds like he's in awe.

"Do you like curry? I have this really good chickpea curry recipe."

"I would love anything you make."

"But do you like curry?" He scoffs.

"Yes, I do. I'm sure it will be delicious."

"I think you'll like it." You put the bear down on the table, opening your arms up for him. He joins you for a hug, squeezing you tight. You're squished against his chest, reveling in his warmth before he pulls back to look at you.

"Can I have another kiss before I go?" he asks. You giggle.

"Sure." You get up on your tiptoes to kiss him, giving him a few pecks on the lips before finishing with one long kiss. He lets you go when you're done, a big smile on his face.

"I'll miss you," he says first.

"I'll miss you too." You grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "I'll text you later, okay?"

"Okay," he says, squeezing your hand back. He releases you, lingering for a moment before he turns and walks out of the cafe.

"You two are so cute I could barf." You snicker.

"Oh, shut up, Liz."

You agree on Guy arriving around five thirty. You let him know that dinner will be ready when he arrives.

You start cooking around four thirty, just to be safe. You add some cut onions and spices to a pan, cooking them until they're soft. Then you add crushed tomatoes and two cans of chickpeas, along with a can of coconut milk. You let it all simmer while you cook some rice. The rice is completely cooked by the time Guy knocks on your door.

You skip to the door, opening it up and smiling at him.

"Hi!" you chirp.

"Hey." He lifts up his hand, showing a full paper bag. "I know you told me not to bring anything, but I got some cake for us to share."

"What kind is it?"

"I didn't know what kind you'd like so I got a sampler." You giggle, moving aside.

"Come in, goofball."

He enters your apartment, looking around curiously. You shut the door behind him, grabbing his free hand and guiding him in.

"So this is my humble abode," you say, gesturing to your apartment. "It's not much but at least I'm comfortable."

"I love it," he says, taking it all in before looking at you. "It's so you." You giggle, tugging his hoodie.

"C'mon. Dinner is ready."

He puts the bag down on your kitchen counter, standing to the side as you get out some bowls. You scoop up some rice, topping it off with some curry before grabbing a spoon from your drawer and handing it to him.

"Start with this. You can always have seconds."

"Thank you."

He waits for you to get your own bowl before following you to your tiny table and chairs tucked at the edge of your living room. You sit across from each other.

"Oh! Do you want anything to drink? I've got water and some diet soda."

"I'll take some water with ice, if you don't mind."

"Sure," you smile, getting up. "I'll get it for you."

You hurry to the kitchen and grab two glasses. You fill them with ice, then water, and return to Guy, who has not started eating yet.

"You waiting for me?" you ask playfully.

"Of course," he said seriously. You bite your lip as you sit with him again, placing the waters down.

"You're sweet," you say, grabbing your spoon. "You can eat now."

He takes his spoon, bringing his bowl to his mouth and scooping up a big bite. He chews, sighing and slumping in his seat.

"Oh my god," he mumbles, chewing faster. "That's so fucking good."

"Isn't it?" you reply as you take a bite, moaning happily. "I love this recipe."

"It's amazing," he says, taking another large bite. "I could eat a whole bucket of this."

"Well, there's plenty left for you."

You chew in silence for a bit, watching him shovel curry and rice into his mouth. He finishes his bowl when you've barely made it halfway through yours. He swallows his last bite, pointing his thumb at the kitchen.

"I can get seconds?" he asks. You nod and he nods in return, getting up with his bowl and heading to the kitchen. You hear him get more food before he returns to you, his bowl practically overflowing.

"Got enough?" you ask jokingly, and he nods.

"Yes." He mixes the curry and rice together before taking a bite. "I'm actually bulking right now."

"Ah, so you're building muscle."

"Mm-hm." He takes two more bites. "I'm basically eating whatever I want before I cut."

"What kind of food do you eat when you cut?"

"A lot of lean meat and eggs. And cauliflower rice."

"That sounds horrible." He shrugs.

"I'm used to it by now. I've been doing this for years."

"Do you like it?" He pauses, chewing slow, zoning out.

"Not always, but by now it's a habit and I don't mind it." You hum, finishing your food.

"Well, if you ever decide to quit, I'll still be with you." He scoffs.

"You sure?"

"Yes! Of course I'm sure. Your body doesn't define who you are as a person. So far, you seem like a really sweet guy and I like you as a person, not just your body."

He stops, looking up at you. You lick some sauce from your lip, shimmying in your seat.

"That's very kind of you, Y/N. I want you to know that I greatly appreciate that." You give him a smile.

"I just don't want you to think I like you just for your body." He grunts, taking his last bite.

"Would you still like me if I had the body of a worm?" You laugh, tossing your head back.

"Oh my god! You're ridiculous, haha, but yes, I would. I'd like you if you were a little baby worm and I let you live in the dirt outside my apartment."

"Aw, what? You wouldn't bring dirt inside for me to live in?"

"Hell no. You can keep your dirt outside and I'll bring you in when it rains."

The both of you are laughing now, chuckling and giggling. You calm down, gazing at each other.

"I really like you, Y/N."

"I like you too, Guy."

He sets his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you.

"You're really special."

"Aww, you're special too!"

"I mean it, Y/N." You look at him, seeing how serious he is right now.

"I-I know."

He reaches a hand out, beckoning you to hold his. You oblige, holding his hand, letting him bring it to his lips so he could kiss your knuckles.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks.

"Of course," you reply. He swallows, licking over his lips as he stares at you.

"I love you, Y/N."

Your eyes widen, head tucking downward as you stare up at him.

"You're serious?" you ask.

"Of course I'm serious. When am I ever not serious?"

Your hand fidgets in his and he glances at the action, looking back at you.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say it back yet," he reassures, letting your hand go. "I don't want you to say it unless you mean it, but I want you to know that I mean it."

"Well, I... I appreciate you telling me, and for being honest."

"Of course."

Silence overcomes you, and you finish eating in the quiet of your apartment.

"I'm sorry for making things awkward," he says as you get up and collect your bowls.

"Don't say sorry," you reply, making your way to the kitchen. "I just... I don't know if I'm ready to say that to you yet and I feel bad about it."

"You shouldn't." He stands up from his seat, looking over the counter at you as you turn on the sink faucet. "I just wanted to tell you how I feel right now, in this moment."

"And I appreciate that." You let the water heat up and fill the sink, adding some dish soap. "I still feel bad though."

"Please don't." He circles around the counter and meets you at the sink. "It's my feelings, not yours. Like I said, I don't want you to say it back unless you mean it. You just—I mean—"

"Guy." He stops, looking at you. You give him a sincere smile. "I understand. I get what you're trying to say. I promise I won't say it until I mean it, okay?"

"Okay..." You give him a look.

"You want a kiss?" He nods and you giggle, getting on your tiptoes and pursing your lips. He leans down to give you a peck on the lips, lingering to give you a few more before he pulls away. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

"You're welcome." You nod towards the living room. "Go find us a movie to watch."

"I'm surprised," you say as you sit down next to him on the couch. "I didn't think you'd pick a romantic comedy."

"'You've Got Mail' is a good movie," he defends, and you giggle.

"I know; I've seen it."

"Oh..." He twists his mouth. "Do you want to watch something else then?"

"No, I like this movie. It'll be fun to watch it with you," you say, giving him a smile. He smiles back at you.

"Okay."

The movie starts and you tuck your legs under you, shimmying closer to Guy. You both watch the movie quietly at first, staring intently at the screen across your living room. You watch the beginning scene, how Kathleen opens her email and corresponds with the mysterious "NY152". It's when the dual scene with Kathleen and Joe starts that you lean closer to Guy.

"What do you like about this movie?" you half-whisper to him.

"I like Kathleen, how bubbly and kind she is." He glances at you. "You remind me of her in a way."

"Oh yeah? Is that why you started bringing me gifts? You were trying to impress me because I reminded you of Kathleen?"

"No, not that. I just think you two are both really good at customer service. I started courting you because of who you are as a person."

"But you only knew me as a barista in the beginning, not who I was deep down."

"That's why I was trying to win your favor. I wanted to go out with you so I could learn more about you." You hum, wiggling closer still.

"And do you like what you learned?"

"I love it, actually." He brushes his knuckles against the side of your leg. "You're genuinely so cool."

"I'm 'cool'? What else am I? 'Radical'? 'Awesome'? 'Tubular'?" He pushes against your knee and you laugh.

"You tease me too much."

"Aw, don't act like you don't like it." He sighs, placing his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb along your leggings.

"I do. I really do like you, Y/N."

"Hmm, well, according to you just a little while ago, you love me."

"I do," he says seriously, looking at you full on now. You're face to face, eyes searching before he leans closer, waiting for you to close the distance between the two of you. You oblige, leaning in and pressing your lips against his. He sighs once your lips touch his, tilting his head to the side, his hand squeezing your thigh gently, reassuringly. You place your hand on top of his, but he suddenly pulls back.

"Your hand is so cold!" he says, eyes wide as he looks down at your hand on his.

"They're not that cold."

"Yes, they are." He grabs your hand and reaches for the other one, taking it when you give it to him. He puts pressure on your hands, trying to transfer his heat to you.

"Wait, let me." You take your hands away, stuffing them between your pressed thighs.

"What...?"

"It's warm in between my legs!" you say cheerfully, kicking your feet. He scoffs, running his hand over his face.

"You're teasing me again."

"What?" You tilt your head. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb." He looks at you seriously. "'It's warm between your thighs'? What do you think that makes me think of?"

You purse your lips in thought, wondering before realization hits you. You pull out your hand and slap his arm.

"Naughty! Why're you thinking about that?!"

"You're the one who said it!"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Well, it sounded like it!" You blow a raspberry, plopping against the back of the couch.

"You just have a dirty mind."

"It's hard to have a clean mind around you."

"Dirty!" you giggle, shoving him. He shoves you back playfully and you repeat the action, the two of you falling into a game of pushing each other. He pushes you once more and you dramatically fall back, feigning shock and giving a quiet scream as you slowly fall onto the couch.

"Blegh! I've been slain." That makes him laugh, and he reaches a hand out for you to grab. You pause but then take it, letting him pull you back up into a sitting position.

"You're really fun to hang out with, Y/N." You give a cheeky grin and pretend to flip your hair with your hand.

"I know!" He chuckles, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, leaving kisses there and making you giggle. You pull away just to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face closer to yours.

You forget about the movie and start making out with Guy. You alternate between holding his face in your hands and wrapping your arms around his neck, always keeping him close so you could kiss him. He kisses back happily, hands resting on either side of your hips, fingers clawing into the couch. You slowly lean back as you kiss him, lowering yourself to the couch, and he follows you willingly. Soon enough, he's towering over you at this point, caging you in with his arms as he continues to mold his lips against yours. You feel yourself getting excited, so you spread your legs, one of them swinging and latching onto Guy's hips, trying to pull him in to you. He grunts and unexpectedly pulls away.

"What's wrong?" you ask. His eyes dart over your face, his breathing suddenly quick and heavy.

"I... I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Wha—"

He bolts up quickly, getting up off the couch and preparing to rush away, but he stops.

"Where's your bathroom?"

You stare at him before pointing to the hallway.

"On the left."

He nods, walking fast to the bathroom and closing the door. You sigh, sitting up on the couch. Did you do something wrong? Did he not like kissing you that much? Maybe he got uncomfortable and needed to take a break? You didn't know, but your anxiety was bubbling under the surface, ready to burst at any moment.

He takes his time in the bathroom. You're at the point in the movie where Kathleen loses her bookstore when the bathroom door opens and Guy sheepishly walks out. You pause the movie.

"I'm sorry," he says as you look at him. "I wasn't feeling well."

"It's okay," you say, but you knew it wasn't. He stands there awkwardly before pointing to the kitchen.

"Would you like to try a piece of cake?"

You think for a moment, then nod. You get up and follow him to the kitchen where he takes the cake out of its container. He presents four different types of cake for you to choose. You pick the flavor you want before getting some plates and forks. He helps you place the cake on your plate before getting his own piece, following you back to the couch. You plop down together and start the movie again.

"You missed a lot," you remark, taking a bite of cake.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you say.

"It's not," he replies, cutting into his cake with his fork. "I shouldn't have rushed off like that. I just..." He trails off, looking defeated.

"You just what?" you ask. He doesn't answer, not looking at you. You turn to face him, placing your hand on his arm. "Guy, if you had like a G.I. problem or something, you can tell me. There's no need to be embarrassed."

"I didn't—" He sighs, running a hand over his face. "It wasn't a stomach issue."

"Then what was it?" He sighs again, scratching at his scalp, not able to look at you. He mumbles something, but you can't hear it. "What?" you ask, leaning closer. He takes a big breath, looking up at the ceiling before down at his half-eaten cake.

"I got hard," he whispers harshly. Warmth rushes to your cheeks, and realization hits you.

"Oooooh."

"Yeah."

You stare ahead of you, watching the credits roll on the movie. You scoff, then start giggling, then laughing. He looks at you, offended.

"It's not funny."

"It's a little funny," you say between snickering.

"It's not!"

You put your cake down beside you, putting your hand on Guy's shoulder.

"You're telling me that you're so attracted to me that you got hard just from a little makeout session?" He gives a single nod, and you laugh again, covering your mouth.

"Quit laughing at me," he says, but a smile is starting to creep up on his face. You keep giggling, posing.

"Oh, look at me. My girlfriend is so hot that I got hard just from kissing her."

"Shut up!" he laughs, covering his eyes with his hand.

The two of you sit there and laugh a bit before going back to eating your cake, quietly snickering every now and then as you think about the situation you're in.

You finish your cake, setting the empty plates down beside yourselves. You place your hand on his leg, and he looks up at you, unsure.

"Guy, it's okay. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm actually quite flattered."

"You are?"

"Yes. I think it's very flattering that someone I like also likes me, especially in that way." His eyes dart to the ground and then back to you.

"You don't think it's weird?" he asks. You shake your head.

"No, I don't." You give him a look. "You wanna know a secret?" He hesitates but nods. You lean in closer to him. "I was getting into it too, if you know what I mean."

"Oh..." He furrows his brow before his eyes go wide. "Oh."

"Yeah." You pat his shoulder. "So it's not just you feeling these things."

"I..." He licks over his lips. "I really want that one day, if you're willing."

"I will be one day." You twist your lips. "But not today because you kind of ruined the mood by running to the bathroom once things started getting heated."

He laughs, nodding.

"I understand. To be honest, I don't know if I'd be able to control myself if we did anything like that now."

You raise your eyebrows.

"You trynna tell me something?" Realization hits his face and he shakes his head.

"No, no, nothing crazy. I just mean that I wouldn't last very long if we did stuff like that now."

"Awww, that's so cute!"

"Oh, shush!"

You laugh again with him before sighing. He glances at his watch.

"I really want to stay, but I should probably get home."

"That's okay," you say, standing up and stretching. "I'll walk you out."

He gets up with you and you walk to the door. You open it for him and he stops, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Guy."

He leaves and you close the door behind him.

[enha-stars]

✧ partner privileges & perks

paring: enha hyung line x fem!reader (fluff)

summary: as a girlfriend, you deserved better, more attentive treatment from your boyfriend. that doesn’t mean everyone was okay with it, though.

warnings: kissing, mentions of food, some swearing

✧ heeseung:

you are the only person that heeseung listens to when it comes to his gaming; a single word from you has him abandoning the game

a combination of music, yelling, and the exhaust fan rang throughout the dorm. you and jay had just finished cooking dinner and we’re now setting up the table and cleaning the counters.

“can you call everyone?” jay asked, busy scrubbing off an oil splatter from the curry. the only reason he let you help him cook dinner was because he lost a game of rock, paper, and scissors.

you don’t know why he kept playing the game when he always lost. it didn’t really matter to you, not when it gave you an advantage.

you nodded, washing your hands. using the hand towel that you had begged jay to buy, you trailed out of the kitchen, trying to locate the other six boys. you found jungwon, riki, sunoo, jake, and sunghoon in the tv room, watching spider man.

smiling, you crossed your arms as you cooed at them. they looked to cute, sitting pressed against each other as they watched a movie even you had seen a hundred times.

“time for dinner,” you interrupted. jungwon nodded at you, pausing the movie. riki gasped before his eyes landed on you and he smiled, sheepishly. jake and sunoo stood up, stretching.

“riki,” you called the younger boy. “can you go call hee?” riki nodded, wandering down the hall.

today was their day off, so they all opted to do nothing except watch movies. before you and jay had left to go make dinner, the seven of you had watched tangled, as per your request.

quietly, you all made your way into the kitchen. jungwon and sunghoon pushed each other in excitement at the sight of all the food on the table. they didn’t get to eat home cooked meals often.

as everyone found their seat, you frowned at the seat beside you. “where’s hee?” you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a few hours, encouraging him to spend his free time doing something he rarely go to do recently.

riki shoved a piece of naan bread in his mouth before he answered you, cheeks filled. “he’s playing so i didn’t call him. there’s no point.” he flashed you a quick smile.

you raised an eyebrow at him, sipping your water. “what do you mean? he has to eat.”

jay nodded. “yeah, but if he’s in a game then he usually ignores us and eats whenever he’s done. not even his own mother could get him at this table.”

the others laughed but you only frowned in thought. heeseung always ate with you, regardless of his games. you cleared your throat. “hee?” you called, loudly. “come for dinner!”

sunoo was about to tell you not to waste your breath but then they all heard heeseung’s door open. the boys stared at his approaching figure with wide eyes and slack jaws.

he smiled fondly at you before kissing the top of your head, pulling out the chair beside you. “did you make this, baby? it smells amazing.”

you smiled and nodded, unaware of the looks you both were receiving. “with jay, of course.”

you turned and raised an eyebrow at the surprised looks. “what? what is it?”

jungwon threw his head back in frustration. “how did you do that? hyung never leaves his game when we call him!” Jake and Sunghoon nodded in agreement, both frowning.

you simply smiled in amusement as heeseung rolled his eyes before making your plate. “that’s because neither of you are my girl and i am not in love with any of you.”

sunoo crossed his arms. “you once threw a pillow at my head because i told you to come for breakfast.” jay lifted his spoon, swallowing. "you once screeched at me when i told you that you're sandwich was getting soggy."

heeseung simply shrugged before giving half his naan to you, encouraging you to eat. “again, not my girl.” he smiled at you, nothing but love shining in his eyes. "i listen to her because i love her."

you nodded, stuffing your cheeks with curry and naan. you wanted to laugh at their fallen faces but didn't have the chance to before heeseung turned to you. "you wanna get some ice cream after dinner, baby?"

swallowing, you frowned. "but your game?"

heeseung simply shook his head. "that's not important, baby. i've played enough." he wiped the crumbs off your lips, putting his thumb in his mouth. "let me treat you."

you couldn't say no so you only smiled, winking at riki's scowling face. "only if we get the boys some ice cream too."

heeseung sighed and nodded while the boys grinned at you. maybe they were okay with heeseung's minor abuse if they got ice cream out of it.

✧ jay:

you are the only person he lets baby him and the only one who always receives only the best of his cooking; and don’t even mention his obsession on spending on you

when you woke up this morning, jay wasn't beside you. you usually woke up to his arms wrapped around you, his face buried in your hair, but not today.

after using the bathroom, you stumbled out of his room, rubbing your eyes. you guys had a late night last night, and if his lack of presence hadn't woken you up, you could have slept for another four hours.

you walked down the hall and instantly smiled at the sight of jay in the kitchen. he wore his pjs with his light pink, 'kiss the chef' apron you had gotten him. you thought he would have thrown it away when heeseung, jungwon, riki, and sunghoon attacked him with kisses the first time they saw it but he kept it. he would never throw it out, not when you got it for him, and it helped that you kissed him.

you watched him move around the kitchen, humming. he looked so beautiful, so domestic. when he turned, he spotted you and smiled. you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging from behind.

"good morning, pretty. thought you'd sleep in more."

you shook your head, kissing his neck. he grinned when you nuzzled your face into his back. "you weren't beside me so i woke up."

he bit his lip to hide his smile, even though you couldn't see it. "i see. my bad, pretty. i went to go pick up something."

you peaked your head over his shoulder, trying to figure out what he was doing. all you could see was a bowl full of different spices. "what are you making? it's 9 in the morning."

jay kissed the side of your head and shook his head. "just wait, pretty. all in due time."

you raised your eyebrow but said nothing, curiosity brimming in your eyes. jay laughed before he nudged you with his helps. "go, pretty. i'll come to you when i'm done."

you knew there was no point in arguing with him so you pressed another kiss to his neck before skipping to the tv room. you might as well catch up on the show you started.

ten hours later, jay was calling everyone for dinner. he kept everyone away from the kitchen, wanting to keep the surprise alive and well.

you trailed into the kitchen with sunoo and riki, hands linked together in anticpitation. it smelled amazing. you and the boys gasped at the sight of jay cooking steak. jake moaned in happiness and sunghoon slapped his shoulder before grinning.

jay spared you all one look before he went back to the steak. you moved to join him but he raised an eyebrow at you and you grinned, throwing your hands up in apology.

you sat next to jungwon, shaking with excitement. you had briefly mentioned your craving for steak the other night. you only meant it as a casual conversational input but you should have known that jay would fulfil your craving.

you watched as jay handed each of his members a sad looking plate. their plates only had a steak (which wasn't even steak) and nothing else. your lips pursed at it, wondering if he was punishing everyone for something they most definitely did.

but then jay set your plate down. it was beautiful. a large piece of the best meat sat in the middle, a creamy mushroom sauce coating it as a perfect blob of mash potatoes sat on the side. you drooled at the sight, looking up at him with twinkly eyes.

"here you go, baby."

he grabbed the dish of mash poatatoes and vegetables and set it on the table, motioning for his members to help themselves. they were all too busy staring at your plate in disbelief.

"hyung," jungwon whispered. "what the hell?"

jay didn't even look at him as he sat down, keeping his eyes on you. "what?"

heeseung glanced at his plate and then at yours. "jay, why do we have white steak? and why does y/n's look breathtaking and our's looks like a flat baseball"

you snickered, feeling bad. jay simply sipped on his cola. "what do you mean? you guys aren't eating steak. you're eating chicken."

riki almost burst into tears, dropping his head. "but we wanted steak."

jay shrugged, cutting your steak for you as you smiled at him. "why would i spend $200 on each of you? be grateful for the chicken." he glanced at riki. "and you guys can serve yourselves."

they all sighed before letting their words die. although they weren't eating $200 steak, the chicken would still taste good. just not as good as yours.

jay smiled at you as you took the first bite, your eyes widening as the flavour erupted in your mouth. jay watched your reaction carefully, making sure you truly enjoyed your food. instead of answering him, you grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks.

you kissed his lips before ruffling his hair. the others just watched in awe. what were they even watching? first, jay cooked you the best steak and then, he lets you baby him? what a world.

"you're such an amazing cook, baby." you press another kiss to his lips and then pat his cheek. "you did so good."

none of the other boys even had the stomach to tease the blush that adorned jay's cheeks.

✧ jake:

you are the only one he will never throw a tantrum in front of and the only person he feels completely comfortable being sappy with

at the sound of familiar notes, jake almost ripped his hair out. he groaned and fell to his knees in annoyance as the song played once again.

he pressed his head against the cold, dance floor. if he had to the same song one more time, he may just lose his mind for good. he shut his eyes, squeezing them tight. maybe he could drown out the sound.

"jake," jay called. "get up. we're doing it again."

jake shook his head, refusing to open his eyes or lift his head. "no, no, no. i'm tired. we've done it enough." he winced when he felt jay kick his leg.

sighing, he slowly got up. they had practiced the dance almost ten times now. the first few times were perfect but now, someone kept messing up. they were overdoing it.

"hyung," jungwon sighed. "just a few more times."

jake almost burst into tears. he shook his entire body in annoyance before biting his lip. he could do this. you were coming in a bit and you would save him. he could do this!

he could not do this.

this was their seventeenth time rehearsing the dance and jake was afraid he would start dancing in his sleep. he was sweaty and tired and annoyed. he didn't understand how someone kept messing up when they had done the dance so often he was sure his socks could do it.

"please," he begged. he crouched down, his hands together as he glanced up at riki and their choreographer. "enough. if i keep dancing to this i might have a heart attack."

sunoo rolled his eyes. "hyung, you can't have a heart attack because of one dance."

jake threw the hat that sat on his head, groaning in frustration. he could feel tears prick his eyes. "i'm being so serious. if we play this song one more time and dance to it again, i might actually--"

"jake!" you walked into the practice room, smiling when you laid eyes on his crouched figure. you smiled at everyone else before walking to jake.

at your voice, there was a audibly sigh of relief in the room. jake froze, his words falling off his tongue as he slowly turned his head, his eyes lighting up at the sight of your smiling face.

"baby!" he jumped up, a bright smile replacing his grimace. he opened his arms and swung you in a circle when you wrapped your arms around him. you laughed into his shoulder, begging him to put you down.

jake grinned at you, all the annoyance and exhaustion leaving his body. suddenly, he couldn't remember anything before you came. he was happy and his heart felt full.

you smiled at him before glancing at the tired faces of his members. "is everything okay? you guys look so tired. i hope you've been taking breaks."

at once, all six members shook their head and pointed at jake's surprised face. you slowly turned your head to face him, eyebrow raised. "jake?"

he simply shook his head, shrugging. "no idea what they're talking about, babe. i've been good."

jay laughed in disbelief and jungwon pinched the bridge of his nose. "oh," heeseung smirked. "so you're okay with practicing the sing one more time?"

jake nodded, no longer having any qualms about it. he kissed your cheek before he stepped into position. sunghoon shook his head in dismay. "unbelievable."

sunoo leaned into riki. "maybe y/n should be at all our practices." riki nodded, slightly impressed with you.

you moved to the side, standing by the choreographer as the music began to play. you grinned when jake pointed at you. "this one's for you, baby." you laughed at heeseung's disgusted face, blowing jake a kiss.

you watched in awe as they all danced perfectly. your eyes were stuck on jake, mesmerized by the way he danced. his moves felt so sharp and percise. once the music ended, you clapped. "that was amazing!"

the woman standing next to you nodded, sighing. "agreed. let's move on."

jake wanted to fall to his knees in thankfulness but he just skipped to you, making hearts and finger guns at you. he could care about the looks he was recieving but you were smiling at him and that's all that mattered.

once he reached you, you shoved his shoulder, your eyes shining. "you're such a dork, jake."

he kissed your cheek before placing his baseball cap on your head, pulling you in by the bill. he kissed you softly before smiling. "yes, but i'm your dork."

you could only nod because he was. only yours.

✧ sunghoon:

you are the only person he will act cute to and the only one who will let baby him; he also only lets you watch his old skating videos

sunghoon was in his own heaven at the moment. here he was, laying on top of you on the sofa while none of the other members were home. quiet moments like this were rare, but he would cherish it.

your back was pressed into the sofa and he laid on your lap, his body taking up the rest of the sofa as his head kept your lap warm. your hands had found their place in his hair.

he liked laying like this some days. some days he woke up and needed to be the one in your lap, instead of you in his. and you were so kind, always complying.

you stared down at him with so much love in your eyes, he almost couldn't handle it. he looked up at you, and smiled when you brushed the hair out his eyes.

"my pretty baby," you whispered before leaning down to press a soft kiss against his chin. sunghoon blushed before he blinked up at you.

"you really think i'm cute?" he whispered back, so used to the persona others had identified him with.

you nodded. "smile for me." he smiled but you poked his cheek. "wider.... yeah. that." you poked his fangs. "the cutest. i could just bite you."

usually, sunghoon would have rolled his eyes but he couldn't. not right now. instead, he shifted and gave you clear access to his right cheek. you grinned at him before you gently bit down on his jaw. sunghoon closed his eyes, a silly smile on his face.

"okay, you big baby." you poked his forehead before you glanced at the tv. "play the videos."

part of sunghoon wished you had forgotten but you hadn't. so, he simply sighed and pressed play on the remote. you had asked to see his old skating performances, and had it been anyone else, he would have said no.

sunghoon shut his eyes when he heard his younger self's voice, pressing his face into your stomach at his cringe stories and phrases. you laughed, massaging his scalp.

you watched the videos with your utmost attention, not wanting to miss anything. after every performance, you slightly pulled his hair, making his look up at you. you pressed your lips against his and whispered, "so talented, baby."

sunghoon was content. his blush still hadn't died down and he didn't want to admit how amazing he felt. maybe he didn't hate being cute or being babied as much as he claimed he did.

"awh," you cooed at the screen. sunghoon glanced at the screen and groaned. it was a video of him singing a nursery rhyme. you looked down at him and he knew what you were going to ask.

"hoon," you smiled. "can you sing it for me?" he blinked. "please?"

sunghoon only stared at you before sighing. he nodded and you felt it in your stomach. he began quietly mumbling out the rhyme, his deep voice in stark contrast of his child one.

you just sat there, listening. even when he wasn't trying, he sounded amazing. you waiting until he was done and then you squished his face, pressing soft kissed to his entire face.

"you're so cute and talented, hoon. my baby is the cutest."

sunghoon hummed, agreeing. he shut his eyes as you kissed him. it was everything he needed in life. just you, holding him like this.

it was how his members found him. lost in each other, you hadn't noticed the noise. not until the door burst open and six pairs of eyes landed on sunghoon being peppered with kisses.

they just stared at you both, and you both stared at them. sunghoon wanted to sit up and glare but you simply smiled and welcomed them home, going back to watching his videos. sighing, sunghoon let himself relax in your hold.

"well," jay said. "that was disgusting."

they all nodded before making their way further into the dorm. sunoo noticed the video first and slapped jake's arm, eyes wide as he pointed to the tv.

jake slapped jay who then slapped jungwon who slapped riki who then poked heeseung. all six of them stared at the tv with grins. sunghoon never let them watch his old videos.

at the silence, sunghoon glanced to them and immediately jumped out of your hold. you blinked in confusion as sunghoon turned off the tv, crossing his arms as he glared at his members.

"you never let us watch!" jake laughed. "how come y/n gets to watch all your old videos?"

sunghoon rolled his eyes like jake asked a stupid question. which, technically, he did.

"maybe because she's the love of my life? why would i let you guys watch them?"

heeseung nodded. "fair point."

"can you all go to your rooms? you weren't supposed to be home so soon."

riki put up his hands. "you're not as threatening with pink lipgloss all over you, hyung."

sunoo blinked, smiling widely at sunghoon's startled expression. "yeah, and your hair looks so fluffy."

sunghoon simply sighed before dropping his head. you laughed as you grabbed his hand, pulling you back to him. obediently, he lay back down on you and you pat his head.

"it's okay, baby. just ignore them."

[janitetsu]

Househusband Kureishi Headcanons!

wc: 1,550 Happy birthday, Mitsuyo!! The more I see of him, the more I swoon and fall in love. One of the newest additions to my Kengan Husbands tier. ^0^ Who are the rest? Well...you will find out soon.

WARNINGS: - mostly gender-neutral s/o, mentions of pussy, gendered spousal terms, creampie mention, breeding mention

As per Strike it Rich chapter 39, this man is a smooth talker. If he can freely call other ladies beautiful, what more with the person he’s decided to spend the rest of his life with? Gives you compliments anytime, anywhere. He is so shameless about it, too

Gives you cute nicknames (sweetie, sweetheart, darling, wifey), and said nickname is also your name in his contacts list. When you’re calling, he will definitely make some buzz about it, whether he’s massaging someone’s joints in his orthopedic clinic, training Cosmo and Adam (or Nozomi, Nozomin as he calls her, from ISSK) in his dojo, or just hanging out with Joji.

Kureishi: Oho, what’s this? My sweetheart is calling me, excuse me~ (He earns eye rolls from Adam and chuckles from Cosmo and Nozomi)

Joji: Your wife/husband/partner never hits you. I’m jealous, Kureishi.

Maybe I’m too woke but I HATE how Joji’s domestic abuse and eye-scratch scar are played for laughs because it’s done by his wife each time he comes home from drinking T.T Anyway…

He WILL help out with all the household chores and offer to do them for you. His favorite chore is ironing clothes. 

When he sees you already doing chores, he will always offer to take over. Afterwards, he gives you a massage: his expertise! This man canonically has many certificates not just for being a great martial artist, but also for being a skilled chiropractor. You get Japan’s best chiropractor to give you massages…for free!

If you put him in charge of cooking, he’s going to have a bias towards cooking and serving his own favorite food: curry. After a while of just curry rice, though, he learns to cook different varieties of curry like Thai Curry and Filipino Curry (Kare-Kare), among others.

Compared to his gladiator/fighting arena days in Fist of the Seeker, he’s really mellowed out and will continue to be just as chill in marriage. His “bone-breaking fetish” is purely towards opponents and people he deems dangerous to his loved ones (though he *does* feel some tingles when massaging you and hearing some joints or bones crack. Don’t worry. Unlike before where he’d just “rub one out” in the shower, he’ll kindly ask you to help him with his “problem”, should it get “bigger and harder”.)

 Will only “revert” back to his old ways when he has to beat up someone who wronged you. He was protective of Koga, again, what more with his life partner?

Loves wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his chin on your head (or shoulder if you’re taller) and barraging you with compliments while doing so.

“You smell so good, as always.”, “You’re so cute, so beautiful/handsome.”, “How’d I get so lucky?”, “God, I love you so much.”

Never really thought he’d settle down, given his gladiator past and current background (famous national mixed martial artist/coach and awarded chiropractor). Many have tried, but he either found them shallow, or he just didn’t have the time due to his busy schedule given that he’s got two jobs.

Bought a house after you two got engaged. His apartment days were over the moment you passed 2 years of dating. He was already looking to buy a house and just never told you.

Money was and will never be a problem. Years after the events of FOTS, he’s likely earned quite a bit of cash given that he’s now famous all over Japan as a martial artist and chiropractor. Never had anything else to spend on besides equipment and maintenance of his dojo and clinic, which are in adjacent buildings (to maximize the space and minimize the cost of maintenance and travel). Because of this, he loves spoiling you and getting you little trinkets that you mentioned in passing liking, or outright expensive things you request for. A Rilakkuma teddy bear? Noted. Vivienne Westwood designer goods? Noted as well. Be careful what you randomly say, he WILL end up buying it later. (“Hey, this one looks cool/cute!”, pretends to not notice). 

He (most likely) lives in TOKYO! His dojo and clinic are canonically located in Ochanomizu and he most likely lives within the area, too. Living expenses in Tokyo are insane, a rough estimate being 158,000 yen (over 1000 USD, or 60,000 PHP in my currency). Trust me when I say your future is secure with Mitsuyo.

Not really much of a drinker and only drinks on occasion, unlike his old pal Joji. Perhaps during anniversaries, special holidays, or birthdays. He always advises his orthopedic clinic patients to not drink booze and opt for water instead (Danberu Chapter 21), so you bet he’ll do his best to apply the advice he always gives them to himself.

Will ease off the teasing in the honeymoon stages of your marriage (he’s in the “Swooning, I can’t believe this is my reality now”-rose-tinted shades phase) but goes back to it after a few months or so.

Being the youngest of five siblings, he’s probably gotten tasked with looking after nieces and nephews. I like to think this is one of the reasons he’s a natural at teaching. Because of this, he has never-ending patience. Need help with improving at any chore? He’s got you covered. Prepare for a lot of teasing when he’s teaching you, though. He loves getting a rise out of you. When you’ve reached a “boiling” point, he kisses you on the forehead, cheek, or lips, depending on the severity.

“My sweetheart, so cute, even when you’re angry. Even when your brows are almost one because of how much you’re scowling ♡. I love you so much ♥. (PUNCH HIM!!! You try; he catches your fist and chuckles before kissing it. HE IS INSUFFERABLE!!!)

Related to above, is experienced with kids. Definitely wants lots of them. Proposes to outdo his older siblings and have four or five children. Is excited to get to the point of your married life where you get to call each other “Mama”, “Papa”, “Mommy”, or “Daddy”.

“How is Mama doing today, hmmm ♥?”, “Mitsu…really…?” “No, no, you should be saying “Papa” ♥”

Your kid: “Papa, Papa! I want—” Kureishi: “Hmmhmm, ask Mama/Daddy/Mommy ♡”

Your kid: “Papa, can I go outside to play?” Kureishi: “Mm, I don’t know, can you?”

Teases his kids too, but his favorite person to tease will always be you.

If you can have biological children, they will have his natural pink hair. Sorry. (I refuse!! the anime’s color choice!!! PINK-HAIRED KUREISHI is the only valid Kureishi!)

NSFW

Has gotten around before dating you, mostly short flings, never anything too long-term because of his busy schedule.

Sex…in his chiropractor uniform. Have you SEEN how tightly snug that damn uniform is on him? It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. His muscles and chest are ready to burst out at the seams. He’s definitely closed up shop early or heck, spontaneously to fuck you on his massage table.

Sometimes (around a 50/50 chance. THAT kind of sometimes), massages can lead to sex, it’s up to you if you want to stop his advances or let him continue. He can’t help himself—he loves you too much.

You’re lying on your chest, eyes closed and smiling, thinking today is a normal Mitsuyo Massage Day…and then as he’s massaging your back, he snakes his arm under and fondles your chest, his calloused fingers playing with your nipples. Well. Looks like you were wrong today.

HATES being belittled. Ask him “Is that all you got?”, “Can you go any slower?”, “Is this it?”, “Are you really a martial artist?” and you will open the (white) flood gates. You WILL get folded in half, you WILL get creampied many times, and you WILL not walk for weeks. He will NOT massage you afterwards to teach you a lesson. During these times, aftercare will mostly consist of kisses and praises.

“Hmm?? It hurts? Well, that’s what brats like you get ♡.” *kisses u*

Holds your hand during sex and loves brushing his thumb over your wedding ring. It’s mark and proof that you’re his. (though he does love marking you inside, too)

I WILL make everyone have breeding kinks and LOVE the mating press!!!

Can go for many rounds. He’s a martial artist, what do you expect? Him being in his mid-thirties isn’t an obstacle, either.

A good 6.5-7 inches, not too girthy, but can give you a good stretch. Cum taste ranges from nothing to just a bit salty, making it easy to swallow despite the slight thick texture.

His crushing grip on your thighs, legs, waist, or hips leaves bruises. He does that on purpose. He doesn’t want to break his beloved’s bones, but he does want to leave marks.

Pussy-eating expert!!! Never gets exhausted and will never complain about his tongue being tired or numb. RIDE HIS FACE and he will be a happy man. No such thing as too heavy for this martial artist.

Overall: amazing husband, amazing sex skills, ALWAYS knows what he’s saying and doing. 1000/10

[mochinomnoms]

For domestic jade I was thinking things like waking up and going to bed together, watching silly YouTube videos, car ride conversations, camping, him cooking for us, greeting him when he gets home from work.

As for kids I was thinking about his reaction to pregnancy, friends reactions, behavior during and after pregnancy, meeting baby for the first time, extra

I also crave wedding head cannons

Waaaaaaah! I love things like these!

Jade would likely have two weddings, one for the surface for you and your friends and surrogate family, and one in the sea for his family and their associates. The one in the sea is much, and I really must emphasize the much part, more formal. Jade and yours merforms are dressed in Coral Sea formal attire, which is mostly jewelry and accessories rather than clothes. The wedding is less for you two and more for the Leech family's associates. There are lots of presents and well-wishes given to the groom and his new spouse, all to curry favor with who may be two out of three (maybe four if Floyd also marries) the new heads of the Leech family in the next few years. It's not very fun, to be frank, and many people come up to you to introduce themselves and try to cozy up, but Jade is always close by to keep you close to him.

The wedding on the surface is much more fun and is planned entirely by you two, with the help of his parents and of course your own friends. It's still got a bit of formality to it, but Jade is surprisingly into the idea of a much more casual wedding on the beach. He is very firm in ensuring that mushrooms are included in just about every dish served possible. You have to call Clover Bakery (because who else would you trust) and beg Trey to not let Jade add any actual mushrooms to the wedding cake. Fondant ones are perfectly fine. It's quite lovely, everyone is having fun, you and Jade get to finally bask in each other's presence without some suckerfish coming up to bother you. And you get the added bonus of getting gifts from people like Malleus and Kalim who don't want to curry favor, they just want to give you nice gifts!

Living with Jade in your own shared home after the wedding and honeymoon is also lovely. I'm mildly torn between wanting Jade to be a househusband or having him come home with his spouse waiting for him! Jade would probably get bored being a househusband, and I can see him still working with Azul as an adult, perhaps as a restaurant manager for one of Azul's branches!

When it comes to the home, I like to think that he keeps it relatively peaceful. He's early to rise, and if you're not, then he's happy to get you a cup of tea ready as you continue sleeping. If you rise with him, then he likes having you do your morning routine with him, he thinks it's extra cute having you help him with his bedhead! Your fingers through his hair and the cute, focused pout as you try to help him curl the end of his darker strand is his favorite image in the morning.

This post is a bit too long now, but I do have more domestic thoughts and Dad Jade thoughts! I'll add more later or if I forgot send me another ask in like a week lol.

[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part 25)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad, Smut

After Nina called and begged you to come up to Cillian's apartment for dinner for at least five minutes, you reluctantly agreed, despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

You knew that the dinner would be awkward with both Nina and Cillian in the same room, which was something you had hoped to avoid. Nina, of course, had no idea that you were involved with her father and the prospect of her picking up on your liking for Cillian hummed in the back of your mind like a distant storm.

You knew that you could kiss your friendship goodbye if she ever found out and this knowledge gnawed at you. You were betraying her trust, but the thought of staying away from Cillian felt like stepping off a cliff.

You were falling in love with a man whose world was overflowing with complexities right now that he was getting divorced and being with you, his daughter's best friend, was possibly the worst of them all.

It would be a nightmare for you personally and, more so, for him, if anyone would ever find out, but you found yourself unable to resist the thrill of being with him.

As you approached Cillian's apartment, a mix of excitement and dread twisted in your stomach. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this time, everything would be fine if you kept your guard on.

You were actors after all and, surely, you would both manage to put on an act for the evening to keep both Nina and her sister Ciara in the dark about your love affair.

As you knocked lightly, the door swung open to reveal Nina who smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"You're here!" She pulled you into a quick hug, her excitement palpable. "And I fucking missed you, babe!"

You chuckled, already feeling the weight lift slightly. "I missed you too," you replied, stepping inside as she ushered you further into the apartment.

Cillian stood in the kitchen, his back turned, stirring something in a pot. The warm fragrances mingled in the air, drawing you in.

"Smells good," you remarked, your voice cutting through the clattering of utensils.

"Thanks," he said, glancing over his shoulder casually, barely acknowledging your presence.

"What's for dinner?" you asked, stepping closer, trying to catch a glimpse of what was bubbling in the pot.

"Just curry," he replied quickly. "Because we were running out of time after the girls decided to spend hours at the shops," Cillian told you and Nina rolled her eyes at his comment.

You couldn't help but chuckle as you stepped further into the apartment.

"Yeah, well, you should know how it is when us women want to go shopping," you teased Cillian, trying to make some small talk, which earned you a quick grin from Nina.

"Speaking of shopping," Nina chimed in, "did you ever find a dress for next weekend? It's Susan's 21st and you know it'll be wild."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Not yet," you replied, pushing aside thoughts of the dress.

"Come on, you've got to rock something amazing," Nina insisted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Her brother will be there, and I know you like him," Nina nudged you playfully, causing Cillian's eyes to narrow as he turned from the stove to look at you both.

"No, I don't. He's not my type," you countered quickly, feeling Cillian's ears prick up at your words.

"Really?" Nina smirked, eyes dancing with mischief. "But you said a few months ago that he was cute," she dared, her voice teasing as you began to blush.

"Yeah, but it was just a fleeting thought," you shot back, forcing a laugh. "And I was a little tipsy too when I said it," you countered quickly as Cillian's brow furrowed.

"I hate to interrupt, but dinner is almost ready, and I need you to set the table please Nina," Cillian interrupted, stirring the pot with practised ease and causing Nina to throw up her hands, feigning exasperation.

"Fine, fine! I'll grab the plates," she huffed, slipping in and out of the kitchen, her laughter trailing behind her.

You shrugged, amusement dancing in your eyes as you moved beside Cillian to grab the cutlery from the draw, the moment feeling unexpectedly comfortable.

"So, how was filming today?" Cillian asked as he stirred the pot with a steady rhythm before glancing at you beneath his lashes, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Same old," you responded with a casual shrug, as you grabbed some forks and knives from the drawer. "But, you know, Steven wants us to reshoot that ridiculous scene with Barry again tomorrow," you told him, and Cillian frowned, stirring the sauce with a heavier hand.

"Really? I thought he got most of it, except for the final few seconds," Cillian grumbled, glancing at you, his brow furrowing as Nina re-entered the kitchen.

"Yeah, really," you replied with a nervous smile, keeping your eyes on Cillian. "You should give him a call, because I know you wanted the day off," you told him, the tension between you lingering like the scent of the curry.

Cillian turned, a hint of annoyance flickering across his features while Nina listened in, observing you both closely.

"Does this mean we get to see the set tomorrow?" she chimed in excitedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Apparently," Cillian replied, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he knew that Nina and Ciara always wanted to see the Peaky Blinders' set.

"Awesome," Nina exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she clapped her hands together and called out for Ciara, who was hiding away in the bedroom, playing a game on her Nintendo Switch.

"You two will love it," you jumped in, your own enthusiasm rising. "It's so chaotic and wait 'til you see the costumes," you added with a hint of nervousness in your voice as Ciara finally appeared, the game controller still in hand.

"What's all the fuss about?" she asked, peering curiously at the lively kitchen scene.

"We are going to see the set tomorrow and watch them shoot some scenes," Nina exclaimed, bouncing on her toes with excitement.

"Seriously?" Ciara's eyes widened, her lips curling into a grin. "Like, the real set?"

"Yeah! It's going to be proper mad," Nina replied, the thrill of the moment washing over her, causing Cillian and you look at each other with some shared amusement.

"Can I sneak into the scenes as an extra?" Ciara asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Not a chance," Cillian smirked, shaking his head.

"Boring!" Ciara retorted, crossing her arms defiantly while Nina chuckled, glancing at you.

"Are we going to get to watch you make out with Barry Keoghan?" she cried, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she cleared tried to tease you.

She still thought that you had gone on a date with him, not knowing that, instead, you had spent the night with her father who, now, stiffened beside you, a flicker of irritation crossing his features.

"No and that's not how it works anyway," Cillian retorted before you could even say anything to Nina's question and this was when it dawned on you that, tomorrow, your best friend and her sister would watch you kiss their father on screen.

The scene that had to be reshot involved a short, but passionate, kiss between your respective characters and the impending tension from this intimate scene loomed like a dark cloud now.

"Dinner is ready, let's eat," Cillian eventually announced, lifting the lid off the pot, steam swirling into the air, fragrant and inviting and, over dinner, the banter continued.

It was difficult for you to make small talk with Cillian though as you navigated the tension simmering beneath the surface. You were trying to keep things casual but there was certainly some awkwardness surrounding the table.

"Curry's great, Dad," Nina said between mouthfuls, her smile wide.

"Thanks, pumpkin," Cillian replied, his eyes flickering to you before quickly returning to Nina who exchanged some playful jabs with her sister, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Cillian's gaze often darted towards you, a subtle tension simmering behind his eyes.

"Can you pass the rice please Y/N?" Cillian asked, breaking the moment, and you nudged the bowl toward him, your fingertips brushing against his hand.

"Thanks for cooking," you said as you smiled at him awkwardly, trying to sound casual while heat rose to your cheeks.

While Nina was busy picking out the peas, Ciara watched your interactions with her father.

"Hey, Y/N, what's your character like in Peaky Blinders?" she asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

You leaned in nervously. "She's fierce, but complicated. I really have to dig into her backstory," you explained ad Cillian's gaze flickered, interest piqued.

"Do you have lots of scenes with dad?" she wanted to know, and you hesitated, searching for the right words.

"Quite a few," you replied, your heart racing at the thought. "More than I expected, actually."

Cillian's eyes locked onto yours, a silent understanding passing between you as Nina picked at her food, oblivious to the tension.

"Isn't that weird for you?" Ciara asked. "I mean, Nina mentioned you had to kiss and stuff," she prodded, her eyes wide with curiosity.

You swallowed, fingers tightening around your fork. "Not really. It's just acting. You sort of turn it on and off," you said, shrugging as you glanced at Cillian. His lips pressed together, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you.

"Still sounds a bit awkward," Ciara said, raising an eyebrow, which is when Cillian initiated a change of topic.

"Anyone fancy dessert?" Cillian asked, his voice cutting through the moment. He quickly gathered the empty plates, a subtle relief washing over him.

"I hope you have ice cream," Ciara said, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Of course I do," he replied with a playful grin as he opened the freezer. In a moment, he pulled out a tub of creamy vanilla ice cream, its surface glistening with frost.

"Here we go!" Cillian announced, scooping generous portions into bowls, first one then two.

"None for me, thanks. I have to go back downstairs to get my insulin and then probably hit the hay," you offered, hoping to get out of more awkwardness.

"None for me either, dad. I will go downstairs with Y/N and grab some later," Nina volunteered, her excitement barely contained.

"You should probably let Y/N have some rest, pumpkin. Filming gets quite tiring," Cillian added, casting a glance your way, concern etching his features.

"It's fine. I can manage," you assured, suppressing a smile at his protectiveness. "Despite, Nina and I do have some catching up to do," you said, glancing at Nina who beamed back at you.

"Yeah, dad. I need to catch Y/N up on all the gossip back home," Nina exclaimed, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head in mock defeat.

"Alright, just don't keep her up too late. She's got a big day tomorrow," he warned, his gaze flicking to you, a hint of laughter in his eyes as you and Nina walked towards the door.

"Gosh, since when is he so protective of you," Nina whispered, her brow arching playfully.

"Must be a producer thing," you replied, biting back a smile as you glanced back at Cillian in the kitchen, focus fully on the ice cream. "Thank you for dinner," you then said, genuine warmth filling your voice as you met his gaze.

Cillian looked up, a soft smile touching his lips. "Anytime," he said lightly. "See you tomorrow on set," he finished, his voice warm, as Nina grabbed your arm, pulling you away.

When you arrived at your apartment two floors down, Nina had a quick look around before settling down on the bed in the middle of the studio and picking up a book from your bedside table.

"Geez, that's like something my dad would read," Nina commented, flipping through the pages with a wrinkled nose.

"It's actually your dad's book," you clarified, your voice steady, despite the flutter in your chest.

Nina paused, peering at the cover. "Right," she chuckled as you scratched the back of your head nervously.

"Yeah, he lent it to me after we talked about how to switch off after work," you explained, a hint of warmth in your voice.

Nina raised an eyebrow, flipping the pages. "Hmm, yeah, he likes to read," she remarked, glancing over the words. "Does he know you went on a date with Barry? Because, he said something about no on-set romances allowed and stuff," Nina squinted, her tone playful yet probing, as she cornered you with her gaze.

"I didn't actually go on that date in the end," you explained, shrugging as you plopped down beside her on the bed.

"Why not?" Nina's eyebrows shot up, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

You hesitated, the truth twisting in your gut. "Uhm, I just didn't think it was a good idea, and I am not actually into him, so I did not want to lead him on," you lied, and Nina raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

"Right," she replied, her tone dripping with scepticism. "So, I was to make a move on him, you wouldn't mind?" she asked, causing you to laugh.

"By all means, be my guest," you countered with a slight chuckle. "But I don't think your dad would approve," you added, raising an eyebrow.

Nina rolled her eyes, tossing the book aside. "Dad's not the boss of my dating life. Besides, he wouldn't even notice."

You smirked, "You think he wouldn't?"

She shrugged, grinning. "Let's test that theory."

"Please don't. We don't need any more drama on set," you laughed, and your laughter echoed off the walls, filling the room with a warmth that momentarily eased the tension.

"Talking about drama, you did not tell me that you were auditioning for that theatre play in Galway," Nina nudged, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It just kind of happened. I didn't want to jinx it."

"Right. But you told my dad," Nina grinned, leaning closer.

"Yeah, because I asked him for advice," you replied, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I am sure you will nail it," Nina grinned, her excitement bubbling over.

"Thanks. I'll need all the luck I can get," you chuckled, feeling the weight of the upcoming audition settle into your chest.

"Just remember to channel your best self, and you've got this," she encouraged, her eyes shining with confidence.

"Now you sound like my dad," you laughed, her teasing smile infectious.

"Just calling it like I see it," she quipped, nudging you playfully before she finally remembered the earring peeking out from her pocket.

"Speaking of which," she said, pulling it out and holding it up like a trophy, "look what I found! Isn't this yours?"

Your heart stopped, eyes widening as you reached for the delicate piece, and a nervous silence settled between you.

"Yes," you confirmed, your heart racing. "Where did you find it? I was looking for that everywhere!"

"It was on the floor in Dad's bedroom," Nina said almost nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow as she gave it back to you.

"His bedroom?" you echoed, your pulse quickening as the heat crept up your neck. You had to think of a sub-story quickly and suddenly felt the weight of Nina's gaze heavied with curiosity.

"It must've slipped out when I was there last week," you managed, forcing a casual tone. "You know, we had no water on the first three floors, and I really needed a shower before filming, so your dad was kind enough to let me use his bathroom," you lied as casually as you could and, luckily for you, Nina bought it, her curiosity easing as she shrugged.

"You know Ciara thinks that you've got a thing for him?" she teased, leaning closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

You felt your heart race, heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Who?" you asked, leaning closer, the tentative smile on your lips betraying your unease.

"My dad!" Nina snorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder and you held your breath, crafting a response that would deflect her suspicion.

"No way," you chuckled, feigning disbelief. "That's ridiculous," you declared, half-laughing, half-wincing at the thought.

Nina smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "I know, right!" she laughed, not taking her sister's comment to heart at all, declaring her insane.

You forced a chuckle, the laughter carrying an edge of unease as you quickly thought about another topic to discuss.

Question: what do you think Nina and Ciara will think when they watch Cillian and YN have a kissing scene?

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[ikeu05]

two baddies, one jake

twelve / hyell’s club (+ written 600 words)

12:26AM

the night air outside the hyell’s club studio was colder than she expected. y/n’s breath came out in little clouds as she walked, slightly swaying, hands stuffed into the sleeves of her jacket. jake ambled next to her, equally wobbly, equally quiet.

“why do you hate me?” he asked suddenly, voice soft but curious.

she didn’t answer right away. her eyes were trained on the sidewalk, watching their shadows stagger in the glow of the streetlight. “i don’t hate you.”

“you do,” he said, glancing sideways. “you literally called me a stain on the music industry last week.”

y/n snorted. “that’s just facts.”

jake laughed, the sound loud and carefree in the empty street. “okay, yeah, but like… really. why?”

she chewed her lip, then stopped walking. “you wanna know?”

he turned to face her, swaying a little on his feet. “dead serious.”

she looked up at him. “before… you know. before i was with heeseung, i actually thought you were kinda cute.”

jake blinked. “huh?”

“but then,” she continued, pointing at him with a sleepy, accusing finger, “you spilled curry on me. on my brand new jeans. jeans, jake. curry. it looked like i pissed myself. that’s when the hate began.”

jake’s eyes widened. “that’s why?! you’ve been ruining my self-esteem for years because of curry?!”

“they were my favourite pair,” she said dramatically.

he laughed again, then took a step closer, not quite closing the space between them, but enough that she could smell the soju on his breath. his expression wasn’t playful anymore—it was soft, tilted.

“okay,” he said after a moment. “i deserved that.”

the silence that followed felt strange. not tense, but fragile. neither of them moved. jake didn’t step back, and y/n didn’t lean in.

the street was quiet. their dorms were just down the block. they stood there for one long second too many, both unsure, both too drunk to trust whatever emotion was trying to surface.

finally, she stepped away first.

jake followed, silent again, walking a little behind her this time. no words passed between them on the way back.

just footsteps. just cold air. just the loud beating of something unspoken.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 !

01:37AM

the door clicked open slowly, and y/n stumbled in, cheeks pink from the wind and the alcohol, her jacket slipping off one shoulder.

manon looked up from her phone. sophia sat cross-legged on the couch, a half-eaten tub of ice cream between them.

“look who’s back from drunk flirting with her fake boyfriend,” manon said softly, as if she was gentle parenting a toddler.

y/n giggled, her eyes glassy but bright. “he’s not my boyfriend,” she whispered, wobbling toward them.

“okay,” sophia said gently, standing up and catching her by the arm. “let’s get you to bed, lightweight.”

but y/n just swayed, blinking at both of them. “did you know…” she whispered, then giggled again, covering her mouth. “i used to like jake.”

both girls froze.

manon blinked. “like… JAKE jake?”

“mhm,” y/n nodded, flopping slightly against sophia’s shoulder. “like, before heeseung. i thought he was sooooo cute. but then… curry.”

sophia and manon exchanged a glance. it wasn’t judgmental. just confused. concerned. tired.

“okay, baby girl,” sophia said, pulling her gently toward the hallway. “that’s enough confession time.”

“i used to like him,” y/n kept repeating, her voice trailing off into a sleepy sing-song as she let herself be dragged away. “just a tiny crush… just a little… lil guy…”

manon and sophia put her to bed, then stood conflicted outside her room. “we never speak of this?” manon asks outloud.

“never” sophia confirms with a nod.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

masterlist / prev: it was sophia / next: you don’t mean that

ness note: shit is abt to go DOWWWNNN!!!! also i really suck at writing so pls just understand this was for the plot🙏🙏

taglist (closed) ! @kirakun @shhh1233728 @weepingsweep @amatariki @tinyteezer @firstclassjaylee @jellymiki @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @dazeymazey11 @lovenha7 @simjaeyunlvrclub

[freyito]

hello hello!!! may i order an idia flavored curry rice plz?? blinks cutely) ty!!

✭ pairing(s): idia shroud x gn reader

★ in which: idia is WAY too confident that he can out miku you.

✩ curry rice black forest cake w/ idia shroud!

✦ entry for my 1k follower event, Freyito's Maid Cafe! check out the link to figure out how to send an order!!

✧ a/n: ykw anon. im so glad you changed your mind because this gave me SUCH a banger idea that i couldnt go to sleep cause i was writing it out in my head. teehee :)

🗒 cw: gn reader, ffxiv sneak, just embarrassed idia :3, not proofread

✎ wc: 2.7k

ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴇᴠɪʟ | ꜰʀᴇʏɪᴛᴏ'ꜱ ᴍᴀɪᴅ ᴄᴀꜰᴇ !

It was late at night, and you had been on call with Idia. He was grinding out materials for some new transmog that had dropped in his game, and cursing the drop rates. You, on the other hand, were grinding out Project Diva Mega Mix for no particular reason. You had just made up your mind that you wanted to full combo some extra songs, and now you were hellbent on doing so. Plus, it provided some nice background music for Idia and his grind sesh.

By now, you had two songs finished and full cleared (albeit, with 97% accuracy), and you were working on your third, Sweet Devil. You already had four failed runs, your hands were starting to cramp a bit, and Idia’s smart remarks weren’t helping you. Not to mention, you always found the mvs distracting. Too much happening in the background while you were trying to focus on the notes.

You slump back in your chair with a huff as you watch the small word ‘safe’ pop up and interrupt your combo. You watch for just a moment as the symbols fly past on the screen, a barrage of ‘miss’es following shortly after. You finally exit the mv, balling your hands into a fist and then stretching out your fingers.

“I thought you were, like, a god at rhythm games,” Idia chides. You can hear the smile through his mic.

“Well sometimes it takes a couple tries,” You sigh, shaking your head. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure it does,” He chuckles. When you look at his stream, he’s finished up running maps and his character is now toiling away by the marketboard. “I bet I could do it.”

You raise your eyebrow, though he can’t see it. “Hm, what’s the stakes?”

“We need stakes?”

“You’re insulting my integrity as a rhythm game player. I want there to be a deal.”

A silence follows your voice, but you can hear him shift back in his chair. “Okay. What do you want to bet, then?”

Hm. You yourself don’t know exactly what you want if you win. Maybe you could get some gil off of him in game, but that didn’t feel like enough. You look around your room, before spotting something rather intriguing. It was a forgotten purchase, a pastel pink maid dress. It was rather cheap material, but still served its function. You were sure if you looked for them, you’d find the rest of the pieces…

“Loser wears a maid dress,” You declare triumphantly. “I got one in my closet.”

“... I, uh, don’t wanna ask why you have that,” He mumbles, “But I guess I accept. It’d be pretty nice to see you in a maid dress, heh…”

“Don’t act like you’ve already won. You haven’t even opened the game yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, just lemme put this up on the marketboard and I’ll get on the game…”

You lean back, content to wait and give your hands a bit of a break. You can’t help but smirk at not only making Idia eat his words, but seeing him in a maid dress would make you… quite happy, to say the least. The light pink would pair well with his hair and– you have to stop yourself there. You’d rather not distract yourself any further, nor allow yourself to get cocky. You can’t get ahead of yourself, or else you risk losing perhaps the most precious award you could ever have. 

“Okay. I’m on. Which song was it again?” Idia finally speaks up. When you look back at his stream, he’s ended it.

“Sweet Devil– Hey, you should stream your screen,” You point out, tabbing back into your game.

“I’m getting to itttt,” He drags the last letter, like it was too much work, as if he had not streamed his games every time you two called.

You watch as the ‘stream has ended’ switches to his screen, scrolling through the songs before landing on sweet devil. He changes difficulties to extreme, then waits for a moment, like he’s expecting you to say something. You decide to mess with him a little bit, staying silent a little longer.

“I’m waiting,” He groans, and you can almost hear his eyes roll. “I know you’re watching. I heard the little viewer noise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You chuckle, “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Idia doesn’t even grace you with a ‘go’, or anything of the sort, simply starting the song, following your words. You scramble to tab back into the game, quickly selecting the song. 

The song and mv start up, and soon after the notes come in. You do your best to focus, to try and block out the MV, the bright pink lights of Miku’s room and Miku herself made it hard to follow the notes, especially with how fast they were. Still, you find your rhythm relatively easily, considering you knew the song and charting by heart. Normally, you’d be super conscious about the progress bar beneath the screen, checking to make sure you were well above the ‘excellent’, marker. However, you were too determined to focus. And unfortunately, that would be too much of a distraction. You don't even focus on if your hits are 'good' or 'excellent'.

The hold notes scare you the most, considering you always end up slipping up on them, somehow. Either that, or you don’t hold them for long enough and panic when you can just press the other buttons on your keyboard. You tell yourself, over and over again, in your mind, that you can just use the other set of keys. You have to. You can’t risk allowing Idia to have any sort of edge on you.

Three minutes feels like five, or even ten. Idia has been far too quiet during this, not even muttering something under his breath. You feel grateful for a moment, if you heard anything on his side, you’d probably mess up. Maybe you could mess him up. Yes. No. Ugh, if you did, you’d probably mess yourself up, too. And if you had messed him up, he’d complain and call for a redo. You would rather never play this song again, to be honest.

Just as your fingers start to tingle– a result of adrenaline, for some reason–, the word ‘success’ comes up. Behind the notes, Miku turns her little devil tail into a spear and throws it as a planet. You do your best not to celebrate too early, still having to go through with the last couple seconds of the song. You were just happy to have nailed the challenge time, more than happy. 

After the last couple of notes, you’re able to lean back and relax. For a moment. When the ‘clear’ screen comes up, you feel your heart jump at the percentage. 101.53%. You look over at Idia’s stream and can’t help but laugh. 99.07%.

“No,” He utters weakly, with an agony in his voice you have never heard before. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Yes,” You feel maniacal, an odd elation spreading through your chest. You don’t even exit the game, hopping out of your chair. “You stay right there.”

You pull the dress from your closet, listening to Idia frantically call for Ortho from your headphones. The rest of what he says is unintelligible, given the distance between you and your headphones as you rummage through drawers to find the rest of the costume. You find the cuffs, stockings, and even a headband with cat ears. It’s a little bent, but you’d fix it on the way.

Hurriedly, you stuffed the costume into a bag, grabbing your phone and turning on the flashlight. Slinging the bag over your shoulder and rushing out of your house. You keep your flashlight pointed at the ground so you don’t trip, running as fast as you can to the Hall of Mirrors. Like it is a high-stakes situation, time is precious. If you can’t make it to Ignihyde’s dorms soon, then you will never see Idia in a maid dress, even if you won the bet.

The minute you reach the Hall of Mirrors, you practically throw yourself through Ignihyde’s mirrors, scrambling through the halls with harsh breaths. Your heavy footsteps echo through the halls as you make your way up the steps and to Idia’s room, clutching the strap of your bag. Ortho is there, in front of Idia’s door, opening it just a crack.

Seeing you, the boy lights up, smiling at you from underneath his mask. “Oh, hey, Idia. They’re here!”

“Nooo!” Idia squeals, and you can what him scrambling from his chair to close the door.

You shove your foot into the crack of the door just as Idia tries to open it. He uses more force than he means to, squeeze your foot slightly. You don’t emote, despite how much it hurts. Which scares Idia. But you don’t care. You won the bet. And he needs to pay up. Ortho stares blankly, trying to figure out what has Idia acting this way, before scolding his brother.

“That’s mean! You shouldn’t try to shut your partner out, especially like that!” 

Idia shrinks back a little. It’s clear that Ortho doesn’t know what has you on such a warpath, and you are quite happy with that. Finally, you smile a little, opening the door with your other hand. 

“Ortho…” Idia murmurs, turning his gaze away from you and his brother. “We’re gonna, uhm, game all night. Just us two. So, uh, you should get some sleep.”

He sounds utterly defeated, and Ortho remains none the wiser as to what you were about to subject poor Idia too.

“Huh? But you called me here?” Ortho tilts his head, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I didn’t mean it– er, It was a mistake,” 

“... Okay! I’ll leave you two be. Have fun!”

And with that, Ortho hovers away, happy to leave his brother in your hands. By then, Idia knows he’s lost. You take a step in, handing him the bag with the dress and accessories in it. You don’t even speak to him, feeling a bit too giddy about your win, and prize.

“Uhm… can you at least stay out there, while I get changed?” His voice is shy, understandably so. 

“If you lock yourself in there, I’ll get Ortho to break it down,” You place your hands on your hips, in an attempt to seem confident.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

He’s right, you were well aware that your threat was kind of empty. But there’s no way you were going to let him get away.

“Then I’ll get those Heartslabyul first years to kick the door down.”

He lets out a small ‘eep’ at this, frowning. “Okay, okay, I won’t lock the door. Fine. You win.”

He doesn’t allow you any time to reply, taking the back and closing the door all too quickly. You can hear him shuffling about and the clothes rustling, and you feel your stomach flip-flop with nerves. You fidget with your hands and turn your back to the door, pretending like you actually didn’t care all that much so that Idia could get dressed faster, like that would work. You cross your arms, tapping your fingers against your biceps while you wait.

After a while, you hear the door crack behind you, and you turn around way too excitedly. He barely peeks through, giving you a look akin to a pleading puppy. He didn’t open the door all the way, insistent that you had to slip in through the crack, in case any one else would look out and see him. He’d rather save himself the embarrassment.

Finally squeezing through the door, he shuts it quickly. You, on the other hand, are greeted with a sight. His entire face is red, the tips of his hair flickering a bright pink as he looks away in embarrassment. The dress is a little short for him, so he clutches to the hem of the skirt and pulls it down a little. The pink worked well with his hair and his skin, just like you thought. It’s cliche, one of the dresses that was copy pasted from all those maid animes and what not. But still, you think it fit well.

“This is so cheap,” Idia complains, tilting his head up. “Okay. I dressed up. Can you go now so I can get back in my pajamas?”

You realize he’s missing something. The cat ears.

“No. No, I’m not leaving until you put the cat ears on.” You state simply, looking around for where they are.

He grimaces, deflating even more. “Please no. I think I might die. Actually, I’m going to die. Right now.”

“I won the bet fair and square, it’s not my fault. Where are they, Idia.” You speak with such a stern voice, it almost scares him. He finally, hesitantly, points to his chair, his grimace deepening as he looks back at you. “Put. Them. On.”

He groans, turning around and grabbing the cat ears. He gives you one last look, begging you to just let him go. Maybe you’re being a little too sadistic, but c’mon, Idia in a maid dress. That’s it. You plan to make the most of it. Slowly, he lifts the headband over his head, then lowers it down. Now you have your own Idia cat maid in front of you. You can’t help but smile, absolutely jubilant to see this poor man wearing such a cute dress.

“Okay. Can you go now, please,” He pleads once more, bringing a hand up to his face.

“Can I at least take a picture?” You hold up your phone.

“N-no! Please, no. I’m already at my lowest point, don’t have to kick me while I’m down…”

“Okay, okay,” You decide to finally allow him some mercy, “I won’t. But… I don’t think this image is ever leaving my head any time soon.”

He sighs and shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. But he doesn’t reply. Well, that won’t do. You decide to come up with a quick excuse to stay.

“Well, I ran all the way here, in the dark, it’d suck if you sent me back,” You try to play it cool, tilting your head a little and looking up through your lashes at him. This earns you a deeper blush.

“Stop it,” He huffs, turning his head. Met with his set up, he realizes you two are technically still on call. And he finds his way out. “Your pc is on, you know.”

“Huh.”

“It’s on. You’re still in call.” He points to his monitor.

Your blind blanks for a minute, before you panic a little. You would like to stay and see if you can get him to stay in the maid dress for a little longer, but at the same time, you’d rather not blow out the power supply of your pc. That thing is too damn expensive. And you love it too much.

“Okay. Bye.” You huff briskly, turning on your heels and waiting for the door open before running back down to the mirror that connected the Ignihyde dorms to the Hall of Mirrors.

Idia yelps as the door slides open fully, stepping back and pressing himself against the wall so no one would see. Like anyone else was up at this time. He listens to you rush down the hallway, before letting out a breath. Once the door is shut all the way, he’s quick to wriggle out of the dress, throwing the cat ears, cuffs, and stockings (which ended up ripping a bit) to the corner of his room.

Almost breaking the zipper, he yanks it down on the back of his dress and throws it alongside the scattered recipes, before staring intently at it. Why couldn’t you have just waited for him to undress and take it back? He didn’t want these god forsaken items here. In his room. That reminded him of you. That’s like the cheesiest romantic thing couples do! And in this fashion, perhaps even cringey! He wants to burn it, so bad. Or throw it out. But what if someone somehow finds it in the trash? And then they link it back to him? That’d be the worst scenario. The absolute worst.

He continues to stare at it for a minute, before reaching for his pajamas that were hanging off the back of his chair. Fine. He’ll leave the stupid costume alone for now. Perhaps it’d come in handy one day. Give you a taste of your own medicine… or something.

© freyito, 2025 | maid cafe event | maid cafe masterlist | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | strawpage | star header by roseschoices , dividers by cafekitsune , headers by yours truly

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[itadoraki]

Flavor of Eternity.

—————————————————————————

Lilia Vanrouge x R.femele. ( Culinary specialist )

—————————————————————————

.

.

The morning breeze blew softly through the stained glass windows of the house that Lilia now called home. She was a little away from the busy Diasomnia - a choice of hers, after deciding that she wanted to spend her days away from wars and real responsibilities, focusing on a type of life that he never had time to live: quiet, domestic... human.

And all this because she - her fiancée - had transformed her old existence into something completely new.

That morning, Lilia woke up before the sun, as she always did. He stretched out with a light purr, hair floating lazily around his face.

But what really woke him up was not the dawn of the day... it was that aroma.

From downstairs, the scent of fresh bread, warm herbs and scrambled eggs with butter rose like a spell. And he knew she was there: in a tied apron, hair tied up, humming any melody as she moved masterfully between the pots.

He went down silently, his bare feet making little sound on the floor. He stopped at the kitchen door, leaning, watching. She hadn't noticed him yet.

- "Are you trying to bewitch me with the smell of coffee and rosemary... again?" - he asked with that singing smile, low and playful voice.

She turned around with a wooden spoon in her hand and a sparkle in her eyes.

- "If I wanted to bewitch you, Lilia, I would use the lavender and lemon cake. But for today, go for a really cute omelette."

He laughed, walking up to her, hugging her from behind while resting his chin on her shoulder.

- "Hm... I should feel threatened. Your food is conquering my heart faster than any spell of my youth."

- "You have too much youth," she teased. "But you need to learn to eat right if you want to continue with this beautiful face for another hundred years."

He sighed theatrically.

- "But if you keep cooking like this, I'll end up losing my mysterious and elegant air... I'll look like a round grandpa."

She turned her face slightly and gave him a little kiss.

- "You're going to be a charming grandpa. And I'll cook for you until your fangs fall."

He arched an eyebrow.

- "My fangs never fall."

- "So great. You can continue eating without guilt."

⸻

After breakfast, Lilia sat at the table while she washed the dishes. He watched in silence - her simple gestures, the way the sun kissed her skin, the naturalness with which she took care of that home... and it.

He has fought in wars, danced with death, saw empires born and collapse. But never - never - felt what he felt now: peace.

When she finished, he got up and held her hands still wet with soap.

- "You know that, if you want, I can conjure cleaning spells and do it in a snap of fingers."

She smiled.

- "But you like to see me washing dishes, don't you?"

- "I like to see you doing anything. Even if it's washing the world with your own hands."

She turned a little red, but she didn't look away.

- "You've always been like that... exaggerated."

He pulled her closer, touching his forehead to hers.

- "And you've always been like that... too human. That's why I love you."

⸻

Later, while she was preparing a new dish - an aromatic curry with saffron rice - he sat on the counter and watched how he always did, resting his chin on his hands.

- "Have you ever thought about opening a tavern? You could call it 'The Vampire's Heart'... or 'The End of the War'...”

- "Or 'My Bride's Kitchen Who's Trying to Distract Me Again?'" - she laughed, throwing a cloth in his direction.

- "Well observed."

Lilia got up, walked up to her slowly, and stood behind her again, like that morning.

But this time, he hugged her more firmly, with silence.

- "Thank you... for giving me a new beginning. For bringing color to my eternity."

She turned around, her face serious now.

- "You fought so hard, Lilia. He lived in shadows and battles. Now... it's your turn to be taken care of. And I want to be that person. Every day."

He leaned his forehead against hers once again. He closed his eyes. He smiled.

- "Then stay with me... until the end of time."

- "Up to the last star goes out. And even after that."

⸻

That night, after dinner, he took her to dance in the living room, under the stars peeking through the window. No music. No hurry. Just slow steps and intertwined hearts.

And Lilia thought, with a full heart:

"Between battles and centuries, I never imagined that the greatest spell would be to love a woman who knows the right point of rice and that of my soul."

—————————————————————————

[magical-regical]

Happy Mother's Day

A platonic Grim & gn!Yuu fic

Word count: 1039

Saw @a-fuking-orchid make a post abt Grim giving Yuu something special for mother's day and I couldn't resist. Don't know if I fulfilled the requirement of 'cute soft beautiful moment' but here it is anyway.

divider by @/cafekitsune

Something was off today. It started this morning, when Grim woke up without a fuss and even went to brush his teeth of his own volition. During the walk to class, the usual grumbling about boring classes and homework and Lucius giving him the run around was also missing.

When the lunch bell rang, Yuu arrived in the cafeteria with a cutlet sandwich waiting at their usual spot while Grim was already busy devouring on his own sandwich.

"Don't get it wrong, hench-human. The ghosts were giving away leftovers from yesterday." He said.

Between the growing ball of dust and students that was forming around the school store and Grim's own disheveled fur, somehow they doubted that.

"Well shucks. Thanks Grim." they said while taking a bite, "By the way, don't forget we have a study group with the Adeuce combo after alchemy today, okay?"

Grim finished the last of his sandwich before shaking his head, "No can do, hench-human! The great Grim is busy after this! You and those bozos will have to make do without me. See ya!"

Then without missing a beat he took off.

"Wha— Grim! Get back here!"

Yuu ran after him but in the midst of the midday rush it wasn't long until they lost him in the crowd.

"Dammit!" they groan, slamming a fist into one of the pillars.

"Prefect, damaging school property is a clear violation of the rules."

Ah they recognized that voice. They explained everything that had happened to Riddle. The face of Heartslabyul's housewarden grew just a touch bit redder once they finished. Trey placed a hand on his shoulder, letting out his signature good natured chuckle.

"Never a dull moment with that one huh? We'll keep an eye out for him. For now, why don't you go to your study group? Best not to keep Ace and Deuce waiting."

Riddle nodded, "Trey's right, who knows what those trouble those two will get themselves into if they're left unattended for too long. If we see Grim we'll bring him back to Ramshackle, and you best believe it'll be off with his head."

Yuu thanked the two before heading off.

The study group went about as well as it could have. The three of them got about a solid thirty minutes of actual revising done before Ace called for a break and instigated a game of cards.

"The losers have to buy the winner lunch for the rest of the week!" he'd declared.

They were deep into their third round of Hearts (Deuce was down a lunch for each of them) when they heard a knock on the front door. They shot up to their feet, knocking over the stack of cards.

"Hey I was winning!" Ace shouted as they practically threw the door open.

"Grim!"

The direbeast stood in the doorway while holding a box, Trey and Riddle standing behind him. Grim's eyes were fixed on the ground and he seemed to be psyching himself up for something but before he could get the words out, there was a loud crash from the living room.

Riddle quickly excused himself and entered the dorm. A lot of shouting later, Ace and Deuce were dragged out by the ears, collars on their necks.

"It's clear I haven't been strict enough for these two's education. I shall have to personally see to it that they put their nose to the grindstone. Good night, prefect. Let's go, Trey."

Trey nodded and followed his housewarden, but not before shooting them a wink, or was he winking at Grim?

Once the Heartslabyul gang had left, Ramshackle's dynamic duo moved to the kitchen. Grim placed his box on the dining table as Yuu went to prepare dinner.

"Where on earth did you run off to today?" they asked, placing down two plates of curry on the table.

Grim still wouldn't look them in the eyes, silently picking at his food.

Yuu sighed, "Hey, seriously, what's wrong? You've been acting off all day. I'm starting to worry." their tone was softer now.

Instead of answering Grim climbed on to the table and walked over to the box and opened it. Inside was a messily iced chocolate cake topped with nuts and banana slices. There were also smears of blue icing that at some point might've spelled something but was now illegible.

"I heard people talking yesterday that today was supposed to be the day you humans celebrate your mothers. I don't remember my own parents but you've always taken good care of me. You put up with me, keep me fed, take care of me when I'm sick, and even help me study. That's what mothers are supposed to do right? So you know, happy mother's day... and all that..." the flames on his ears flickered before suddenly flaring up.

"And don't get the wrong idea! I didn't just make Trey bake the cake, got it?! I did most of the work! It's not my fault I don't have opposable thumbs!"

Yuu laughed as they grabbed a knife and cut out a slice of the cake, taking a bite. Despite its messy appearance, the cake tasted better than any other cake they've had before.

"It's delicious. Perfect for tonight's dessert."

Grim's face lit up, he puffed out his chest, "Of course it is! And that's not all I got ya!"

He jumped off the table and left the kitchen before coming back with a bracelet with a gem that matches the one on his pendant.

"I found it when we were out in town the other day. Now we match!" he said proudly.

Warmth bloomed in Yuu's chest and they couldn't stop smiling as they put on the bracelet,

"Aw this was so sweet of you, thanks partner. Who knew you had a caring side to you, huh?" they cooed while picking him up and giving him a big hug.

"Nyah! Hey let go of me! I ain't a stuffed animal!"

But despite all his complaining, he still returned the hug, his paws rubbing up and down Yuu's back as he nuzzled against them. His hench-human does so much for him, surely doing this much for them is just something a good boss would do, right?

[the-marshals-wife]

New Horizons (Arthur Curry x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Requested by @dantes-devil-huntress. I can't believe this is my first Aquaman fic! This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy!

Premise: Trying to figure out his place in the world as the newly crowned king of Atlantis, Arthur meets someone who may just help him find the answers he looking for.

Description: Arthur Curry/Aquaman x Fem!Reader (Human), meet-cute fluff! | Warnings: alcohol, mild language | Setting: AU w/o Mera endgame, before The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 3,468

Edit: here's my Orm Marius x Reader fic for my fellow Orm girlies ;)

Gif credit: user jasonmomoaonline

Imagine Arthur giving you shelter when you're stranded in a storm, and discovering his true identity

Getting stood up for your date had been the worst part of the night, until the moment you got into your car. Instead of the engine turning over and sputtering to half-life like usual, it only stalled.

"You have got to be kidding me," you say, gripping the steering wheel and turning the key until you thought it might snap, "Come on, come on, come ON!"

Throwing open your door, you pop the hood and stumble back out into the chilled night. You mutter curses under your breath as you survey the labyrinth of steel and hoses before you.

"At least nothing's on fire this time," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

You step back and stare at the bucket of bolts the salesman had called "like new." Besides coming to this bar, buying this car was quite possibly your biggest regret. It wasn't quite a lemon, but it wasn't a Rolls either. And most of all, it was all you could afford.

You exhale, glaring up at the flickering light of the bar's neon sign. The last thing you wanted to do after waiting nearly two hours alone like a fool was show your face inside again. You retrieve your phone from your back pocket, just to see the blinking bars in the top corner. No service.

"Wonderful," you groan.

Like a bad joke, thunder rolls in the distance. You look up to see the lightning flashing on the horizon across the bay. The brisk, salt air rises up from the water and cuts right through you.

"Could this night get any better?!" you lament, an angry shriek escaping your lips as you kick the front tire.

"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice from behind interjected.

You jump and turn to see a man approaching, nervous smile on his bearded face. You appraise him wearily: tall, dark, and not at all lacking in style, clad in both leather and jewelry. He looked a sight better than the drunken fishermen you'd observed stumble about the bar, which you concluded was about ninety-percent of the clientele. Even from where he stood, he certainly seemed to smell better.

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but you sound like you might need some help," he offers hesitantly.

Despite your initial scare, something about him puts you at ease.

"Oh, um...yeah, actually" you smile embarrassed, tucking your hair behind your ear, "My stupid car won't start. Again."

"Mind if I take a look?" he asks, pointing.

"Would you? That would be great, honestly," you say, folding your arms against the cold, "I just had it in the shop last week. I have no idea what's wrong now."

He pats the fender as he circles around to the front, "Let's see what's got you all clammed up here, buddy."

"Your guess is as good as mine," you say exasperated, stepping to stand behind him a ways.

He chuckles and pushes up his sleeves, ducking underneath the hood. You take note of the intricate tattoos, realizing this friendly stranger was becoming more interesting by the minute.

"Hmm, nope. Not that," he says, craning his neck, "Not that either."

You bite your lip and sway on your feet, silently praying he could find the source of the problem. Any easy fix was probably too much to hope for, but your fingers stayed mentally crossed nonetheless.

"Ooh, maybe- no, definitely not," he says, followed by a clinking sound, "That should not be there."

"I really appreciate this," you say after a moment, peering over his shoulder, "I can change the wipers and put on a spare if I have to, but that's about the extent of my car expertise."

"No shame in that," he grunts, his voice strained, "Oof, now that might be a problem."

"Did you find something?" you dare to ask.

"These spark plugs are kaput. Like, 'not even a necromancer can bring them back' kind of kaput."

"The guy said they were fine!" you exclaim, "I knew I shouldn't have gone back to that place. Probably just took my money and laughed."

The man finally stands up and winces.

"And your alternator is on its last leg," he says with a grimace, "Even if you could get it to start, I wouldn't go more than five miles in this thing."

"Great. That's just wonderful," you sigh, shaking your head, "Well, thank you for looking. It'd have taken me forever to figure that out. Google only goes so far."

"No problem, wish I had better news for ya," he says, wiping his grease-tinged hands on his jeans before extending one towards you, "I'm Arthur, by the way."

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur."

"Nice to meet you too."

Despite your frustration, you couldn't help but grin. As Good Samaritans go, he was quite a handsome one. Something in the back of your mind whispered that you had seen his face before, but you couldn't place when or where.

Before you could speak again, a bolt of lightning strikes just across the harbor, followed swiftly by a crash of thunder.

Arthur looks off to the darkened horizon, his expression souring with concern.

"Storm's coming in fast," he observes, the sea breeze blowing through his long, sun-kissed hair, "Do you have someone you can call to come pick you up?"

He turn back to you, and only now do you notice just how rich and golden eyes his eyes are. For a few dizzied seconds, you forget to answer.

"Uh, not really. I'm pretty new to the area. I don't know very many people," you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden, "I can just call a Uber or something. If my service ever picks up."

"Yeah, definitely," he nods, clearing his throat, "They have a phone inside."

"Thank you again for helping me, Arthur," you say, starting to walk towards the door.

"I didn't really help, though..." he trails off, disappointment in his voice as you step past him.

Your hand is almost on the handle when he pipes up.

"Uh, look I know you don't know me, but my dad's place is just down the road from here. He's the lighthouse keeper. Him and my mom are actually away on little retreat, and I'm watching the place for them," he explains, "It's dry, warm, and definitely has a lot less drunk guys. You could wait there while the storm passes, if you wanted."

You turn back to him, trying to conceal your renewed hope, "I couldn't impose on you like that."

"Oh you wouldn't be. It's just me and the dog. He's probably getting sick of me at this point. He could use a visitor," he chuckles, "But I understand if you'd rather stay here. Strange guy at a bar invites you to a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night. Sounds like a horror movie, I know."

You laugh, and so does he, bringing some much needed levity.

"I'll bring you right back if you change your mind, just say the word," he adds, sounding truly sincere.

Almost everything in you was saying not to trust a man you'd just met, but your gut was telling you otherwise. There was more to the warmth in his eyes than just the color.

"Well, it does sound like the dog could use some company," you say thoughtfully.

Arthur smirks. "Oh yeah. There's been a Hell's Kitchen marathon on for days, and I'm pretty sure he's sick of listening to my Gordon Ramsay impression. I can't resist, love that guy."

"I might have to hear that for myself."

"Let's get you out of this weather, and we'll see what I can do about that, then," he says with a wink, "My ride is just over here."

Not even the chilled wind could overcome the warmth of your cheeks. The excitement in your chest grows with every step as you follow him across the sandy lot. The ride in question, however, soon comes into view, and the knot in your stomach tightens all the more.

"Oh boy," you say, staring at the motorcycle.

"You're not scared of bikes are you?" he questions, stepping alongside it and reaching into the black saddlebag.

"Not exactly," you hesitate, "I've just never been on one before."

He pulls out a red, half helmet and offers it to you.

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall off," he replies, amused.

You look between him and the headgear a moment before taking it.

"Besides," he says, swinging his leg over the seat, "All you have to do is hang on."

With no argument to make, and rain drops beginning to sprinkle down, you pull your hair back and fasten the helmet on. You nearly lose your balance trying to throw your leg over, having to grab his shoulder to steady yourself. He didn't seem to mind; you could have sworn you heard him snicker. You settle into the seat, heart racing from being so close to him. More anxious than ever, you lightly place your hands on his back.

"All good back there?" Arthur asks, a smile in his voice.

"All good," you repeat, unconvincingly.

"Alright then," he says, turning the key.

Seconds later, the motorcycle roars to life as he revs the engine. Arthur eases the bike back slowly, pivots out of the lot, and eases it up to the main road. The instant he accelerates, the force kicks you backward. You throw your arms around his torso, pulling yourself against him. Over the noise of the machine, you weren't sure if the rumbling in your ear that followed was thunder or laughter, but you figured was the latter.

With the bar now behind you, and the rain coming down harder with the increasing speed, you bury your face into his back and hold on tightly.

♆

The lighthouse comes into view just as the skies open up. Arthur maneuvers the bike up the slippery, sand driveway and quickly shuts it off. He gives you his hand as you climb off and leads you toward the house.

The helmet offers some protection from the downpour, but the wind blows the spray into your face as you squint to see. Lightning above illuminates the world like daylight as you scramble up onto the porch.

Arthur throws the front door open and lets you in first as you stumble inside the dark house. You take a few blind steps forward as he slams it shut behind him, thunder making the windows rattle.

"Man, someone must have really pissed off Thor," he laughs. His relief, however, is turned to exasperation as you hear a clicking sound followed by a sigh.

"Power's out. Awesome."

Still trying to catch your breath, you pull out your phone, struggling with wet fingers to use touchscreen. Finally the flashlight turns on, and Arthur throws his hand up over his eyes as you accidentally shine it right at his face.

"Sorry," you pant, pointing it down.

"No worries. That's a good idea, actually. I always forget about this thing," he remarks, grabbing his own phone and doing the same, "One second, I think Pops has some candles in the kitchen."

You nod as he disappears into the next room. Now remembering the dripping helmet on your head, you release the strap with your free hand and set it down on the mat beside the door. A shiver goes through you from your soaked clothes. You point your phone about the shadowy room to get your bearings, admiring the otherwise cozy living area. As you sweep the light downward, something large and metallic glints on the coffee table in front of the sofa and catches your eye. You move closer to get a better look, and then your heart drops to your feet. Lying beside a bag of jerky and the TV remote is a massive, gleaming trident of gold. A memory flashes through your mind of an article you'd seen weeks ago, with a fuzzy photo of an alleged aquatic hero holding a weapon just like it. The pieces come together all at once as you realize the identity of your host.

The very next second, you hear Arthur's approach. He returns with a lit candle in each hand and a blanket under his arm, only to find your expression of complete and utter shock.

"You...you're..." you stammer.

"Oof, I knew I forgot to put something away," he cringes, "My bad."

"You're the Aquaman," you gape, finding the words.

"Surprise," he says in a sing-song voice, flashing a nervous smile, "Yeah, I never really know how to bring that up.

You stare at him dumbfounded as he places the candles on the coffee table. "I can't believe it. Aren't you supposed to be like...well, in Atlantis or something?"

"I was, earlier this morning. Just about died of boredom in council meetings," he says matter-of-factly, proceeding to talk as if he had a desk job, "I'm kinda part-timing right now, between land and sea. It's complicated. I'm still new to the whole 'king' thing. Don't have all the kinks worked out yet."

"I'd imagine," you breathe, your mind still reeling.

"Here, figured you need this." He holds out the blanket, completely unphased by the previous subject, "Do you drink tea? I can make some for you."

You take the blanket and chuckle in bewilderment. "Um, sure. That would be great," you answer, "Thank you."

"One tea coming up," he smiles, "Uh, just make yourself comfortable, I'll get the fire going here a minute, after I find the dog. Pretty sure he's hiding under Pops' bed upstairs. He's terrified of storms. Ironic right? Lighthouse keeper's dog afraid of a little water."

"I don't blame him this time," you say, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, "I think you were right about Thor."

As if on cue, another boom of thunder shakes the walls. You both burst out laughing.

♆

A few minutes later, you find yourself sitting on the floor in front of a roaring fire with a warm mug in your hands, finally beginning to feel dry. Having been unsuccessful in coaxing the dog into joining him downstairs, Arthur settles down beside you crossed-legged, damp hair tied up, trading the tea for a can of Guinness. Your thoughts rage like the storm outside as you stare into the flames, agonizing about what you should say.

Arthur speaks a moment later, saving you the trouble.

"Sorry about the power. I'll call you that cab as soon as it comes back."

"That's okay, I'm not in a hurry," you reply.

You look over at him hopefully, meeting his piercing gaze for as long as you can. Mere seconds pass before you bow your head, heart racing while you repress a smile.

"I'm uh, sure you've got some questions about all this," he ventures, rubbing the back of his head.

"Honestly, with the night I've had, meeting 'Aquaman' is par for the course," you smirk.

"I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I guess you can understand why I don't lead with the whole King of Atlantis thing. Kinda makes it hard to keep a conversation going once people know you 'can talk to fish.' They don't really see you the same after that."

"Yeah, I think I'd probably keep that to myself too," you agree, the awe returning full-force, "Still, it must be amazing. I mean, you're basically ruler of the ocean, right? Or is it just Atlantis?"

"Eh, I mean there's the other kingdoms-"

"There's more?!" you blurt out, wide-eyed.

"Oh yeah. Xebel, the Fishermen, the Brine, a couple of defunct ones no one wants talks about. We got a few."

"And you're the ruler over all of them?"

He shrugs. "More or less. I mean, they each have their own ruler. But then I'm also over them? Kinda? I'm still figuring crap out, they didn't exactly give me a rule book on my first day. Plus I have to answer to this royal council and they've got sticks up their butts about everything I do and say," he groans, rolling his eyes, "I like to consider myself more of a 'protector of the deep' than a ruler. Sounds more cool, and less like an old fart with a crown."

You giggle, hanging on every his every word.

"And with this bad boy right here," he says, reaching behind him and patting the trident, "I command all life in the sea. The animals anyway. Between you and me, that's the best part."

"You definitely have a cooler job than me," you beam.

"It definitely has its perks. But most of the time, I'd rather be here," he sighs, punctuated by a swig of his beer.

A visible sadness washes over him as he looks into the fire.

"You aren't from Atlantis?" you question.

"No, I was raised by my father. My parents met on accident. My mother was queen of Atlantis, and she ran away from her not-so-nice guy fiancé. She got lost in a storm, and my father rescued her. They've always said it was..."

Arthur stops and turns his gaze towards you, realization in his eyes.

Your heart skips as you understand. "Fate?"

He nods thoughtfully. "Something like that."

You blink, letting him go on.

"Anyway, I know I have a calling to the sea, but the land is always going to be a part of me, you know?" His expression softens. "Here, I've always found everything I need."

His words linger in the air between you. You look down at your hands, your chest pounding.

He clears his throat. "Sorry, I know that was a lot of info."

"Just a little bit," you reply teasingly, "But your secret's safe with me, Arthur. I promise. I've got no one to tell anyway."

"Don't worry, I trust you," he says, waving his hand, "It's actually nice to have someone else to share it with."

"I'm honored that you did. I know it's not the same, but I do understand what it's like to feel that you don't belong," you confess, "I didn't fit in my 'kind' either. Moved out here to start over. I guess you could say I'm still trying to figure some crap out too."

He pauses in thought second before responding, "Do you mind if I ask you something, Y/N?"

"After everything I've asked you? I'd say it's definitely your turn," you chuckle, taking a sip of your forgotten tea.

"I saw you at the bar before you went outside. I couldn't help but notice that you were there by yourself..."

"You noticed correctly. I was supposed to meet someone for a date, but after saying he was on his way, he never showed. I tried to text him, but he blocked me. I don't even know why."

"Nothing like being stood up at some backwater bar," he concludes, frowning, "Well, screw that guy. He's a bum."

"Yeah, I figured that out too late," you agree, then give him a knowing look, "The evening wasn't a total loss. I did meet you, after all."

"That's true," he concedes, playfully stroking his beard, "I may be a half-breed rookie king, but I'm not a bum."

You snort and gesture to the television set on your right, "So much for your marathon though, huh?"

"Ah, that's alright. They were all re-runs anyway."

You raise your eyebrow. "Think I could still hear that impression?"

He holds a finger to his chin in mock deliberation, "Hmmm, have I had enough to drink for that?

"I don't know, have you?" You lean in with anticipation.

He flashes a sly grin. "Of course I bloody have," he declares in the most hackneyed attempt at a British accent you'd ever heard, "And you better listen up, because I'm about to tell you everything there is to know about how to cook a bloody good flounder."

Your sides ache with laughter as he continues to go on a tangent about how to properly sauté shallots and season the perfect demi-glace. The voice sounded nothing like the infamously tempermental chef, of course, but you still thought his attempt was cute. By the time he was yelling at his invisible staff for serving him raw fish, the storm outside had passed, and neither of you noticed.

As Arthur went to light the stove to warm up some "gourmet" SpaghettiOs, still boisterously carrying on as Chef Ramsay, your excited thoughts returned to the story about his parents. You couldn't help but wonder about your own stormy night, the man you had met, and how much of a hand fate had played in it. The horizon seemed so much brighter than before, and for the first time ever, you were grateful to have bought that car.

[adarafaelbarba]

Hello oh bringer and harbinger of doom and person who has a list of dumbass things I’ve done

Can I request a cute fluffy thing for Terry

First meeting perhaps? Dropping coffee or some kind of pastry

Love you.

Also I’m not updating my dumbass list

You'd met Terry on a random Friday after your long shift at the hospital, at the coffee shop across the street from court, where you'd accidentally taken his tall black coffee, thinking it was your tall extra vanilla latte. One sip from the drink, and your face screwed into that of disgust and disappointment, until you turned the cup and saw it wasn't your name scribbled on it.

"I think that was my drink, darling." He'd commented, and you nearly dropped the cup at the sight of him. A brown henley shirt on, worn jeans, curls half slicked back to keep tame for a day of work. The gun on his hip that had made you nervous until your eyes locked on his badge.

"I'm so sorry, officer! I've been at the hospital for the past 24 hours, just needed a pick me up before heading home...", you tried to explain, but he just waved it off, giving you a reassuring smile.

"Please don't worry, it's an honest mistake. Although I should probably ask, you're not driving home are you?" At your nod, he let out a small sigh. "Please, don't do that, let me order you an Uber or something, so you'll get home safe."

You blushed at this stranger's worry for you. "I'll be fine, officer, thank you though. Grabbing your coffee, you apologized again and made your way out.

---

The next time you'd met Terry was at your place of work. SVU had been called in for a young woman, and they'd sent Terry, you recognized him instantly and blushed. But at first he didn't seem to notice you, probably wrapped up in whatever the case was.

On his way out with his colleague, Captain Curry, he stopped at the nurses station where you were stood, writing in the shart of another patient you'd been visiting.

"Dr. y/l/n?" You turned your head to look in the direction of where your name had been called from.

"Officer, what can I help you with?"

"It's detective, actually. Anyway, I'm happy to see you managed to get home last week. I was a bit worried when you said you'd drive."

You blushed again, looking at the floor in embarrassment as he told his colleague he'd be right behind her. Then you felt his finger lift your chin up to look at him.

"If you're not working too late tonight, I'd love to take you out on a date." He confessed.

"I'd love to. Why don't we meet here, and we can go out for dinner?"

Pulling out a card from the inside of his jacket, scribbling his personal number on the back before handing it to you. "Call me when you're done, doctor," he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek before he walked out.

Yeah, you were officially down bad for this man.

~~~

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[dioslesbianwife]

hai ! may I request kira x child werewolf who won't leave him alone and used their dog form into shinobus heart and he's stuck with this thing XD

- 🌟

hi 🌟! sure, hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting <333

You were in your dog form when you met Shinobu. Small, fluffy, scrappy. Honestly? Kind of ugly-cute. You were cold, hungry, and limping across the street when she saw you, gasped, and immediately took you home. “Yoshikage, look!” she cooed. “This poor little thing! I think it’s hurt!”

You wagged your tail and looked up at the tall, well-groomed man beside her with your tongue hanging out and your eyes sparkling.

He looked like a guy who hated kids. And dogs. Especially both at once.

You decided he was your new favorite person.

Kira didn’t realize something was off until he caught you standing upright in the kitchen at 2 AM, eating leftover curry with your hands. Still furry. Still wagging your tail. “What- what the hell,” he hissed, backpedaling. “You’re a child?!”

You just grinned and said, “Kinda! Sometimes.”

He should’ve thrown you out then and there. But Shinobu had already knit you a little sweater. And you followed him everywhere. Slept in a basket in their room. Poked your head around corners and whispered, “Whatcha dooooin’?” every five minutes.

He tried ignoring you. He tried hissing threats. He even locked you outside once and Hayato just let you through his window. You found Kira again and curled up on his lap like, “I had a dream you exploded. :)”

You’re a nightmare. But you think he’s awesome.

You keep calling him “Dad” even though he keeps correcting you with “Kawajiri-san.”

You sniff people and then bark if you think they’re “shady.”

You keep chewing on his ties and clawing up his briefcase when you get bored.

And worst of all?

You won’t go away.

“I’m going to kill you,” he growled one morning when he found you curled up on his pillow in your half-human form, tail twitching, and drooling on his monogrammed sheets.

“No you won’t,” you yawned, eyes half-lidded. “You like me too much.”

He almost detonated your blanket in a rage. But then you rolled over and mumbled, “Love you, Dad,” in your sleep.

And he just sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and went to make you eggs and toast.

You were the worst thing that ever happened to him.

You were loud and clumsy and smelled like grass and leaves.

You dragged your muddy tail across his clean floors and shed all over his suits.

But the one time you didn’t come home after a full moon?

He waited up for you. Paced the living room. Got dressed to go looking.

And when you finally stumbled back in, covered in burrs and dirt, whining that your leg hurt?

He didn’t say a word. He just picked you up, sat you on the bathroom counter, and ran you a bath.

You’re annoying. You talk too much. You keep giving him friendship bracelets made of hair and twigs and calling them “protection charms.” He pretends to hate them. But he keeps them. All of them.

And even though he grumbles every day about your presence...

Kira hasn’t killed anyone in a little while.

And you always come curl up next to him after dinner with your tail wagging and ask, “Do I make you feel normal?”

And for a moment, he almost forgets what he is.

Kira: deep inhale “...I need a walk. Not you. Me.”