#I hope I’m not the only one bothered by this!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Forbidden Fruit.

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.

word count - 2.3k

authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.

masterlist. inbox.

You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.

Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.

Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.

“Y’alright?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.

“Bored out of my mind, actually.”

“You’d never know.”

“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”

He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”

“What time?”

You roll your eyes but answer anyway.

“Nine.”

“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“You usually love my stupid ideas.”

“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”

He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.

“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.

“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…

“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”

He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”

“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.

He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.

“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”

Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.

He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.

You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.

The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Hi darlin’.”

His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.

“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.

He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.

“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”

“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.

“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”

He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.

Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”

“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.

“I fucking love it.”

“Good. Bought it for you.”

He groans, grinding his hips into yours.

“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.

He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.

“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”

Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.

Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.

You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.

“Please, Dec.”

“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”

He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.

“Don’t tease.”

“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”

“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”

He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”

You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.

He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.

His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.

“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.

“What do you want, darlin’?”

You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”

“I-Declan, I just-”

“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”

Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.

“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”

All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.

“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”

He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.

You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”

Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.

“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”

You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.

You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.

“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.

“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”

You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.

“It’s twenty past eight.”

“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.

“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”

You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.

“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.

“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”

You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.

“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”

“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”

You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”

“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”

“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”

“You’re a minx.”

He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.

“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you will.”

You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.

You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.

You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.

a little gift for you, as promised…

@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence

and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3

[okwonyo]

INTO YOU, 或 𓈒𓈒 navigating a secret relationship.

❛𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇’ 𝗎𝗌. 𝗌𝗈, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗅𝖾𝗍’𝗌 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𓈒𓈒 ❜

𝒾 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ╱ r! 16OO fluff ── non idol au skinship kissing ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀i miss summer and i desperately need winter to come huhu >< idea from my favorite oomf @soov 🎀 enjoy !

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

HEESEUNG

the cold air brushes your face as you step outside. you wrap your arms around your body, trying to get warmth by hugging yourself. 

you walk to the usual corner where your boyfriend organizes your little meeting. the weather gets colder as you walk to it, you swear it. 

it puts you in a bad mood, you can feel your eyebrow furrowing and a frown forming on your lips. 

there is a fire that lights in your freezing heart when you finally see his face. he leaning on the wall next to him, and he seems to be smiling at your misery. 

“what?” you say, harsher than you initially attended to— it doesn’t seem to bother him. not in the slightest, his smile grows wider. you smile as well, “what?” 

standing straight, he steps closer to you. so close that you have to tilt your head up to see him properly. “nothing,” he shrugs, “jus’ wanted to see you.” 

you don’t answer, just staring at him blankly. although the warmth of his words touches you, you sniff, “‘m cold, hee,” you state. 

the said ‘hee’ laughs, loudly. in a way that makes his adam apple move, in a way that makes you flush, in a way that keeps your eyes on him. 

he steps even closer, your chest gets pressed against his. he wraps his arms around you putting his face in the crook of your neck: 

“i’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, you don’t hug him back. even though you close your eyes. “is it better now?”

you only hum before adding, “i hope no one catches us.”

JAY

the first thing you feel on your skin is the sunlight peeking through the windows’ blinds. it kisses you slowly out of sleep, welcoming you warmly in the new day. 

the second thing you feel is the gentle pressure around you and the circle of warmth— that is not yours—swallowing you whole. you hide your face further into the body in front of you. 

the arm holds you closer as you hug the body tighter. 

all your senses slowly awoke and you can progressively recognize the scent enveloping your nose. 

it smells like cologne, like a real man, like home, like home, like—

“jay!” you exclaim, jolting awake. the man groans next to you, his arm sliding on your thighs. you tap him, “jay, wake up!”

his deep, sleepy voice emerges from him, “what?” he almost whines. 

“we fell asleep,” you whisper loudly, looking at your barely conscious boyfriend. that should also definitely be anywhere but in your bed. “you are not supposed to be there!”

it looks like it takes a while for him to register, but when he finally does, he almost falls on the floor. 

he gets his shirt back on himself, kisses you quickly and escapes from the window.

JAKE

he loves when you kiss him. he loves when your soft lips brush his skin and when your mouth rests on his ever so softly. 

and you know it. he tells you always, how much he loves it, hushed and hurriedly between two kisses in the corner— hiding from the public eye. 

this is why you already know, from the look in his eyes weighing on you from right across you, that he wants to kiss you. 

he watches you amongst the crowd of all your mutual friends together and when they all leave, back turned toward you, he stays. 

he holds your waist and, in a sort of instinct, you cup his face. 

you aim for his pretty nose first, then you peck his cheek two times in a row before finally kissing him on the mouth.

“i got to go,” he whispers against your mouth before kissing one more time. 

when you look one last time on his face, you giggle— seeing lipstick strains about everywhere you kissed him. he wears them like tattoos and leaves before you can even tell him anything. 

(he is cheeks blossom with a red hue when his friends tell him about it.) 

SUNGHOON

you barely survive the entire day with someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in the tiniest room possible.

surprise doesn’t over take you anymore. you already know why you are here and who you are with. 

your boyfriend’s hand cups your jaw, gently and carefully. he tilts your head up, just a little to be able to lean in a bit and kiss you as your fingers slide in his black thick hair. 

“hi,” he says when he pulls away a tad to tilt his head to the other side. 

he kisses you senseless. loving and passionate like he usually does. his tongue slides in your mouth. you let him lick the inside of it instead of greeting him back.

his free hand hugs your waist, pulling you closer to his body, impossibly so.

your boyfriend is all over you. he takes over your senses and swallows whole. you cannot think of anything else but his hot tongue teasing yours. 

until someone tries to unlock the door and you jump, breaking the kiss and pulling a weird sound out of your lover’s throat.

“did you just bite me?” he hushes and you apologize, eyes still worriedly looking over the door. he chuckles, “i liked that.”

you beat his chest with your fist playfully.

SUNOO

he swears to you—brags even— whenever he has the chance that he is not a jealous man. 

you almost started to believe it, if it wasn’t for how often he brings it up. almost as if he is trying to gaslight you or desperately trying to convince himself, or rather manifest it. 

and you could even consider it, rethink it when you are on your own. but you can always feel it, see it in his face. 

the heaviness of his gaze whispers the truth to you. whenever you are talking to another man a few feet ahead of him. 

in your peripheral vision, his arms are crossed under his chest. and his teeth are pressed so tight against one another, that his jaw is more defined than ever.

he comes to you as soon as the stranger leaves, “who was that?” he asks, nodding his head towards the leaving man.

you study his frustrated face with an amused look. his eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth is frowned— he looks cute, if you were to be honest. 

you opt for something funnier, “are you jealous?”

he instantly opens his mouth, to defend himself and closes it immediately. 

his sighs, “yes,” he states. shock explodes in your stomach. “i don’t like seeing guys flirt with you,” he leans to whisper the rest in your ear: “when they don’t know you are already taken.” 

JUGWON

this entire situation seems to be very funny to your—secret—boyfriend.

it is no surprise that he is annoying in private. his fingertips melting in your sides, him tickling you, your skin getting pinched and getting a yelp out of you each time. just because he can.

and just because he can, he does his best to get a reaction out of you in public. 

sometimes, he stares at you from across the room, tilting his head to the side with a grin when your eyes lock. you ignore him each time. 

sometimes, his knuckles brush smoothly and ever so softly against your skin as he passes by you. his touch stings all day long.

today, he aims for a mixture of it. 

“look,” your friend whispers to you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. her finger is pointed to his direction when you look at her, “he is doing it again.”

your boyfriend is staring at you from across the end of the hall you are walking down. he is walking towards your direction, but you tell your friend to ignore him.

he takes a step to the side as he approaches, exchanging places with his friend to walk next to you. his fingers quickly wrap around yours as your shoulder brushes. 

he holds onto it enough to make your heart skip a beat, but not enough for anyone to see.

RIKI

his hoodies are way too soft and comfortable for you to not steal. 

he always manages to find the sweetest material. the kind of tissue that his scent soaks into perfectly. a tissue that keeps his warmth days after he wears it. 

you love to be enveloped into that said material. so big and perfectly cozy like the embarrassed he locks you in.

“you want it?” he once asked you. seeing the way you buried your face in his hoodie. you shook your head against his torso, “i insist, sweetheart.”

you didn’t fight against his own wants and you find yourself in it a few days later. the cold wind doesn’t go through it when your coat gives up for a mere second and you hold onto it for dear life.

you bury your nose in it when you miss your lovely boyfriend. his cologne is still impregnated in it— it makes your stomach fill with butterflies.

when you meet each other at his, he comments: “isn’t that my hoodie you are wearing?” your cheeks get pink. “were you really walking around with that on your back?” 

you study his own outfit before answering, “and isn’t that my shirt you are wearing?” you pinch his cheek and he laughs. “i thought you hated pink, mh?”

you taught him well.

ㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[seulw0nz]

ONE MISSION FOR TWO ENEMIES (LOVERS) ` ╰ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍

✶ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝑖𝐒 ⦂ agent!riki ୨୧ agent!reader ｡｡ fluff, one shot, ⟡ 5OOwc.─ tw. skinship, kisses ( 𝓐𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 )

DANiELLE : for my riki girls (specifically cough cough sia) >0< hope you enjoy it

the mission was simple: get the intel and get out. except with riki, nothing was ever simple.

“would you stop breathing down my neck?” you whisper-yell, pressing your back against the cold brick wall of the alleyway. his smirk is infuriatingly visible even in the dim light.

“sorry, sweetheart. didn’t know my presence bothered you so much,” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath brushing against your ear.

your glare could cut steel. “bothered? please. i’d just rather not have you messing this up like last time.”

“last time wasn’t my fault,” he defends, his voice low but playful. “you were the one who tripped the alarm.”

you scoff. “tripped the alarm? i was covering your ass when you couldn’t hack the system in time.”

“hmm, pretty sure i remember saving your life.”

“and pretty sure you’re full of shit,” you bite back, peeking around the corner to assess the street. the coast is clear, but your instincts tell you to stay hidden a little longer. you suddenly realize how close he is—too close.

“riki,” you warn, turning your head slightly, only to freeze when your nose almost brushes his.

his dark eyes gleam with mischief. “what? i’m just… paying attention. like you said.”

“paying attention doesn’t require you being in my personal space,” you snap, but your voice wavers, betraying the fluttering in your chest.

“personal space? you’ve never complained before,” he teases, his voice dropping an octave. it sends a shiver down your spine, and you hate that he notices, his smirk widening.

you’re about to shove him back when footsteps echo nearby. he reacts instantly, pulling you closer, one arm circling your waist as he presses you flush against the wall.

“stay quiet,” he whispers, his lips dangerously close to your ear. your heartbeat quickens from the proximity.

the footsteps grow louder, then fade. but riki doesn’t move. instead, his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear time slows.

“what are you doing?” you hiss, but your voice lacks conviction.

his grin softens, “just… proving a point.”

before you can retort, his lips crash onto yours. his hand tightens on your waist, anchoring you to him as his other hand braces against the wall. your brain freezes, caught between the urge to push him away and pull him closer.

when he finally pulls back, his eyes sparkle.

“what the fuck, riki?” you demand, your voice breathy.

“you can’t say you didn’t enjoy that,” he quips, that damn smirk firmly in place.

“shut up and pay attention,” you snap, though your flushed cheeks betray you.

he chuckles, stepping back but not before brushing a strand of hair from your face. “sure thing, sweetheart.”

[corrcdedcoffin]

request: jj x kook!girlfriend & they get caught fucking by the pogues so oops the secrets out🤭

18+ mdni

warnings: smut, barely proof read, nothing else i don’t think. it ended up being super soft. i’m in my feels i guess. hope u enjoy

gif not mine (obvs)

kooks vs. pogues.

that's how it was for as long as he could remember. he'd heard the way his dad talked about the upper class, how they were all crooks too. greedy, power hungry business men that prey on the working class for sport. 'you stay away from em', y'hear me?' he'd say.

and jj listened for the most part. the only time he'd interact with a kook was when it was time to take a couple swings — and get a few handed back. he'd never regretted a fight no matter how much trouble he'd get in for it, cause ultimately, it led him to where he was now. face between your legs, pulling moans from you as easily and flawlessly as a puppeteer pulling on strings.

"god, you're so good at this" you whined, gripping his hair.

it'd been three months to the day that he'd asked you to be his girl, and he was set on showing you how much you meant to him. making you feel it.

he licked a thick stripe all the way up to your clit, swirling and sucking before moving back down to thrust his tongue in and out of your hole, fingers massaging your thighs.

hooking one arm around your leg, he slowly inserted two fingers, not bothering to ease you into it before pumping them right into your sweet spot. your legs squeezed around his head as he continued to lick and suck your sensitive nub, making you swear like a sailor.

"tastes so good" he spoke lowly, barely pulling away to watch you squirm. "could do this all day."

you lifted your head to look at him, the way he was staring at you making you feel so.. seen. so vulnerable. he didn't say it, but you could see it in his eyes. feel it in how he touched you. he wished he said it.

grabbing his hair, you gently tugged him up to kiss him. his face was a mess, covered in a mixture of you and him. you gently wiped it away as he pushed his tongue past your lips, slowly pumping his fingers once again.

he kissed your jaw and down your neck, licking a thin stripe before tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “need you, j" you whispered. as much as you loved the way his fingers moved inside you, you could feel him rutting into your side, and you couldn't wait to have him.

he pulled away just enough to look at you, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. another moment of sweetness that had you gushing for him. "as you wish," he whispered.

the two of you made quick work at removing the rest of your clothing, wasting no time in closing the distance between you once again.

now, jj was never one for intimacy. he never really liked to look when he was fucking, but this wasn't fucking. this... this was love. he knew it long before he got you here, in his bed at his best friends house. he climbed on top of you, rubbing every bit of flesh that he could reach as you pulled him in for another kiss.

he wanted to see you.

he spit in his hand and pumped himself twice, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your slit, poking it in your entrance just a little bit further each time. he was about to do it again, but you weren't having it. any other time you would have enjoyed the tease, but you needed him now. wrapping your legs around him, you pushed him all the way in.

loud moans escaped both of you, jj letting out a breathless chuckle. "jesus, baby," he threw his head back, unmoving.

you knew he was big. it may have been your first time having sex with him, but it wasn't the first time you'd seen it. you'd given him head before, but still, you weren't expecting to feel so full. even with neither of you moving, it felt good.

you wiggled your hips a little to signal you wanted him to move, but he was fast to hold you still. "w-wait, wait," he groaned, "jus' — need a moment."

you gave him puppy eyes, begging him to move. he traced his thumb across your bottom lip, and when you wrapped your lips around it and gently sucked, he thought he'd bust right then and there.

he couldn't deny you what you wanted after that. how could he? he was just a boy, after all. he started slow, pulling almost all the way out before going back in, hitting all the right spots and making you squirm already.

"feels good, j" you mumbled, gasping when he managed to push even further, a smirk on his face.

it wasn't long before you wanted even more, not caring that jj might not last as long as he wanted. if anything, you took it as a compliment. you pushed him back so he was sitting up, still inside you. your intent was to be on top while he laid back and relaxed, but this felt too good to stop.

he was so deep inside that the slightest movement made you shake. his arms wrapped around your back, one sliding up to the back of your head, gripping your hair. you had your hands on the sides of his face, taking in how fucked out he looked already. slowly, you began to ride him, turning him into a moaning mess.

it was pure bliss.

the way the course hairs at his base provided the perfect amount of friction on your clit, the way he touched you all over, how he looked at you. god, if he didn't stop looking at you like that, you'd end up pregnant.

his hands moved to your hips, helping you slide up and down on his cock, pushing you down harder. neither of you could help the lewd noises or strings of praise and babble escaping you. the two of two of you weren't necessarily being loud, but you were definitely caught up in your own world — in one another. you definitely didn't hear the door to john b's twinkie slamming shut outside, or the footsteps coming down the hall.

you did hear the shriek when the bedroom door opened.

it slammed shut again, footsteps running away down the hall. you halted your movements, you and jj looking at each other with wide eyes. he'd wanted to keep things a secret for a while, not wanting his friends to be judgemental and make him get in his head about his relationship with you. he already had enough to worry about, he didn’t need your feelings for him to be added onto that list.

"i didn't hear them come back" you said, looking from his bedroom door to the window.

you knew how he felt about the situation, he'd told you countless times that he wanted the whole world to know you were his girl, but he wanted to stay in the safe and secure bubble for a just little while.

he was still rock hard, a little twitch let you know he was unbothered. you looked at him with uncertainty, but he looked back at you with love. "i don't care" he shook his head before kissing you. he laid you back down on his bed before thrusting into you once more.

picking up the pace a little bit, jj rubbed firm, tight circles on your clit. "jay..." you moaned, a little too loud for comfort, his free hand moving to cover your mouth.

any other time, he'd love to be disgustingly loud just to fuck with his friends. he’d take pride in it — but this moment was just for the two of you.

"shh, baby, i know" he cooed, replacing his hand with his lips.

you could feel the tightness building in your abdomen, slowly at first, then all at once. you tried to hold it off, but he wouldn't let you.

"c'mon, pretty girl. come on my cock" his voice was so low and sultry, his thumb continuing its assault on your clit. that was all you needed to come undone.

you clenched around him, gummy walls pulsating and pulling his own orgasm from him unexpectedly. in the moment, neither of you cared he didn’t pull out — it felt too good to worry about it.

he reached down to kiss you once more, pushing your hair away from your face as he pulled away. "so pretty" he whispered, a small smile on his face.

you felt silly for blushing at that, considering everything the two of you just did (including getting caught), but you couldn't help it. you were about to say something back, like a you're pretty, which would've been kind of lame, but he spoke before you, saving you the embarrassment.

"let's get you cleaned up" he sighed, grabbing a shirt and getting to work. he could see his cum slowly dripping out of you, and it made him groan in both arousal and regret.

"what?" you questioned, sitting up to look at him.

he so badly wanted to push it back in, a quick daydream of you carrying his baby flashing in his mind, making him yearn. he knew better than that, though.

"nothin', just... probably should have done that" he showed you the cum covered shirt.

"yolo, i guess" you replied with a shrug, making him laugh. you were perfect, he thought.

once he cleaned you up, he helped you get dressed. it wasn't something you thought could be so sweet and considerate until now. he even put your socks on for you, placing a kiss on each ankle as he did so.

"ready to face the heat?" he looked up at you, hands loosely holding onto your ankles. you nodded your head.

"okay," he tapped your legs as he stood up, holding his hand out for you. "i think they'll be nice, but i can't make any promises." he placed a kiss on your temple before slowly leading you out of his room.

"you sure?" he turned back, playful look in his eye.

"just go," you rolled your eyes as you nudged him forward.

you trailed behind jj, a little nervous to be meeting his friends for the first time this way. but as he led you out into the porch, you were greeted with hoots and hollers, full of excited cheers exclaiming how happy they were for their friend.

of course, they'd teased you both relentlessly for the rest of the evening, but neither of you could find it in you to care. your relationship was no longer a secret, and it felt good.

don’t be shy, reblog!

[reysdriver]

okay, just thinking about some celebrity daring to hit on sirius and he's like "bitch??" and then immediately runs to tattoo reader's name (VERY BIG) on the left side of his chest, right over his heart! and since he takes off his shirt at every show, everyone can enjoy the view (reader is also taken by surprise, she gets very horny if you ask me

Sirius shows the world where his passion lies — rockstar!sirius x reader fluff

warnings: allusions to sex, very suggestive

words: 1k

a/n: I love this request so much omggg that is such a Sirius thing to do (I could see James doing it too actually) but it's just PERFECT. I did change it a bit by making reader know about it beforehand but I hope it's still good! Also horny part 2 maybe... idk yet

You came back to the hotel room with coffee in your hand, a bag of pastries in your purse, and a tabloid magazine under your arm. 

With The Marauders on tour, you’ve been living out of suitcases with your boyfriend and your friends for the last couple weeks. You’ve all been sharing sleep schedules with wolves, staying up until dawn and sleeping later than everyone else in whatever city you were staying in. 

That’s precisely why you left to grab breakfast at eleven in the morning and Sirius was still fast asleep. 

By the time you got back, you walked in to find Sirius wide awake, but still in bed, tangled in the bedsheets. 

“Good morning, love.” Sirius said, shirtless with one hand behind his head. 

“It was a good morning.” You teased, tossing him the magazine. “Then I saw you in the news.”

“Me?” He feigned surprise. It wasn’t at all uncommon for Sirius to be in the news or the tabloids, but it was usually for something he did, not some pop princess who writes songs you get tired of after two listens. 

Sirius sat up and scanned the front page, curious as to what was going on. 

Mary Macdonald makes her move on rock star Sirius Black; New musical romance in the works?

The caption was sitting atop a picture of the popstar in question onstage at a concert, her crop top showing off a fake tattoo on her abdomen with text reading Reserved 4 Sirius Black alongside an arrow pointed down. 

“Oh, come on.” Sirius laughed, throwing the paper to the end of the bed. “This is what got you all bothered?”

You set your purse down and brought the coffee and pastries over to your boyfriend. 

“Yes, so bothered I almost didn’t buy you a coffee. Be happy I did, though.” 

“Of course I’m happy. I love you, doll.”

Sirius lifted the sheets and held out a hand to beckon you into the bed with him. You obey reluctantly, putting on a dramatic pout as you crawled in with your boyfriend and straddled his lap. 

“You know you’re the only one for me, right?” He whispered, hands tracing along your hips. 

You combed your fingers through his perfect hair, a frown on your face. 

“Tell that to the singer-songwriter superstar announcing to the world that you’re the only person she wants between her legs.” 

Sirius smiled in a way that made it painfully obvious he had something stupid to say. “Love, there are millions of people who feel that exact way about me. Including you, I would hope.”

Damn, this man was exhausting. And of course you loved him for it. 

You rolled your eyes and tried to get out of the hotel bed, though your attempt was foiled by Sirius holding you back. 

You let him get his way, but gave him an unimpressed look that did not match his badly-stifled grin. 

“I’ll take care of it, alright?” He said, not elaborating at all. 

You shook your head, hoping he would say more about whatever PR stunt he had in mind. 

“Siri, what are you gonna do?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Sirius said softly. He took your hand in his and slid your palm gently across his bare chest. “I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.”

✦✧✦✧✦

The next concert the band had was a few days after you first saw that magazine. You stood in the wings of the concert stage, just before the show started. 

All the other band members had gone onto the stage and started setting up their instruments and playing the long intro to the opening song; it was just Sirius left, saying goodbye to you before he started performing and you made your way to the VIP section. 

“You’re gonna do great, Siri.” You told him sincerely. 

He winked at you, cocky as ever. 

“I always do.” 

Sirius then softened and masked your tone. He held your upper arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’ll let them all know I’m yours, and only yours.”

“They’re gonna go crazy.” You smiled.

“Damn right, they will. I’ll see you out there.”

Sirius gave your ass a playful smack before jogging out to the stage before he missed his cue, so you went down to your reserved space in the audience to see the band play from the best angle. 

The audience lost their minds when Sirius ran onto the stage, per usual, screaming and shouting when all he’s done so far was enter. 

But once Sirius started singing, the crowd noticed something off about the performance—Sirius was wearing a whole shirt for the first time throughout this tour. None of the band acknowledged it, of course; they were too busy playing music to be worried about what Sirius was wearing tonight. 

Once the song finished, Sirius took a moment to say hello to the audience. After all the routine talking points—you know, your ‘how’s everybody doing?’ and whatnot—Sirius found it was the right time to say what he wanted to say. 

“I saw a magazine cover the other day, with my name on it.” He started. “And not for the usual reasons. Mary Macdonald, I think it was…”

Many audience members went wild at the mention of her name, either because they were fans of her music, or they knew exactly what headlines Sirius was referring to. 

“That was definitely an odd thing to wake up and see. But I’ve thought about it because it’s been everywhere, and I just have one thing to say about that.”

Instead of responding verbally, Sirius pulled off his black tank top with a smooth, swift motion, revealing his newest tattoo. 

Your name was printed loud and clear on his chest, right over his heart. He got it done the day the Mary Macdonald pictures came out, and he was ecstatic to show it off to the world. 

It caused quite a reaction, but you weren’t listening to the audience to know what they were even thinking. All you cared about was Sirius up on that stage, blowing you a kiss as The Marauders started to play the next song.

[merbear25]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Ace, Law, and Kid x Reader, where they're already in an established relationship, and this might be based on a TikTok trend, but Reader calls them "Buddy, Pal, etc.* To see their reaction?

Hello! Thanks for sending in a request! I decided to go with some headcanons, so I hope you like it. 💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, established relationship, headcanons

Calling them “buddy and pal” for a trend (Ace, Law, Kid)

Ace

Wait what? He felt himself malfunction a little.

He did a double take when he heard you calling him “pal” and “buddy”.

“So, I’m your buddy now?” He nudged you. There was a playful smirk on his face.

“Yeah, we’re good pals. Wouldn’t you say?” You pushed further.

Alright. He could play along and he’d win.

“Then I guess I’m single then. Such a shame… I really liked you too.” He feigned the loss of your relationship.

The look on your face was priceless. Your expression dropped when he didn’t tell you he was only kidding.

He didn’t want to string your little heart along for any longer than necessary, but you trying to convince him it was just a trend on social media was pretty funny.

Cracking a smile, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“That wasn’t funny!” You exclaimed. He pulled you into a hug, still chuckling at the sight of your bashful appearance.

Law

A cocked eyebrow and a judgemental frown—He was not amused.

He saw your phone was out and you were clearly filming, hoping for some type of reaction. However, he was reluctant to give it to you.

You kept throwing out those lines to see if he’d bite, but he just stared at you in silence.

The side-eyeing you gave was a sweet little reward for him.

“Is this reaction not good enough?” he asked cooly.

You tripped over your words in an attempt to dig yourself out of the hole you were in.

He simply nodded and huffed in faint amusement.

You were a strange one, but he couldn’t deny how adorable you were when you were called out: flustered expression, fumbling your words, clumsy explanations.

“You’re cute” was all you got out of him.

Kid

Excuse you?? was his first thought.

He looked visibly bothered, and the emotion was biting at the tips of his ears. His first instinct was to huff and puff, unintentionally giving you the reaction you were fishing for.

For a moment he gave you that content, but it didn’t last for long.

When he saw that mischievous glint in your eyes, he caught onto your little game.

A wicked grin spread on his face, thinking he could play along.

He threw you a few curve balls to ruffle your feathers, which drew out some entertaining scoffs.

You were both heated with embarrassment as the situation dawned on both of you.

You, of course, had to be the bigger person, due to Kid’s stubbornness.

Whatever puffs of anger that were exuding from you transformed into hearty laughs because of the ridiculousness of it all.

[half-oz-eddie]

The very first time Buck spent the night at Tommy’s, he couldn’t shake the excitement. Tommy invited him over a handful of times beforehand, and Buck loved learning about all the things Tommy collected. Many of his belongings had some history, or a great story and Buck loved to hear every single one.

Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, he’d peruse Tommy’s shelves, or read some of the old books he picked up from a rare book store in some little town he flew to.

This one particular night, though, Buck was feeling restless and uneasy. He had a rough shift, and it left his body in a world of pain.

When he stumbled down to the kitchen for some water, Buck accidentally knocked over a vase on an end table.

His heart dropped and shattered right along with that vase.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He whispered to himself, frantically glancing up the steps and hoping Tommy didn’t hear anything. He scrambled to pick up the glass, mentally berating himself for being so stupid and careless.

Tommy trusted him. He trusted him in his house with his belongings that he collected over the years. A house he lived in alone and when he finally lets someone his space after so long, he breaks something that was probably incredibly valuable.

Buck assumed this vase was rare and expensive, probably the only one of its kind and Tommy was going to be so disappointed in him. What if Tommy thought Buck didn’t respect his space or how much time he put into his collections?

Buck hissed in pain when a shard of glass nicked his finger. He hopped over to the kitchen to toss the glass into the trash and grab a broom to finish cleaning up.

His heart was racing, practically beating out of his chest. He was so worried about hurting Tommy’s feelings, letting him down—

“What’re you doing, Evan?”

Buck jumped the moment he heard Tommy’s voice.

“Ah—he-hey, Tommy, I-I didn’t see you there.” Buck nervously laughed. “I was just uh…getting some…water. Yeah, water.”

“Are you okay? I heard noises—“

“I’m fine!” He exclaimed, quickly withdrawing. “I’m fine. A-all good.”

“You sound nervous. What’s up?” Tommy asked worriedly.

It wasn’t like Buck could hide it. He sighed, walking around the counter to face Tommy in the dim light.

“I uh…broke that vase you had on the end table. My legs were wobbly and I kinda lost my footing and bumped into the table. I’m so sorry.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes. “That blue vase?”

“Yeah…the-the blue one.”

“Hm…I bought that at a flea market because the end table looked pretty bare. I paid, I think…2…no, 3 dollars for it.” Tommy chuckled. “It doesn’t mean anything, if that’s what you were worried about.”

“I thought you’d be upset. I know you have a lot of valuable stuff that means a lot to you—“

“Oh, Evan.” Tommy cupped Buck’s cheek. “It’s just stuff. You mean more to me than anything in this house.”

“Really?” Buck’s eyes widened. “Even your home brew kit?” Buck asked with a smile.

Tommy sighed before nodding reluctantly. “Yes, even that.”

“You hesitated.” Buck’s smile widened.

“I do love that kit more than a little bit, I suppose.” He pulled Buck into his arms. “But I love you even more than that.”

Buck let himself fall into Tommy’s embrace, sighing in relief.

“Let’s get you back to bed, okay? I know you had a long shift and you really shouldn’t be up and about.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” Buck murmured into his shoulder.

“It’s no bother.” He promised. “You’re never a bother.”

Buck let Tommy carry him upstairs and back into bed while reassuring him that he was the most precious thing he’d ever had.

[daisymbin]

hii can u pls do angst #50 with seungcheol? and ofc, not an happy ending >__< i love ur writing sm, thank you!

ah!!! yes I can!! thank you for requesting 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

angst prompt #50: "I hope they're worth it."

seungcheol stumbled through the front door, the faint scent of alcohol and guilt clinging to his skin. the clock on the wall read 8:23am, but he didn’t need to check the time to know he was late—too late. the moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting on the edge of the couch, arms folded tightly, face pale and blotchy, with dried tear tracks staining your cheeks.

you had been crying.

"you’re home," you said flatly, your voice raw like you’d been screaming into a pillow all night.

his heart sank. he’d spent the entire cab ride rehearsing what to say, but the words disintegrated in his throat. his voice came out hoarse. "yeah. i… uh, i lost track of time."

you laughed bitterly, the sound low and hollow, and reached for your phone. you slid it across the coffee table, the motion sharp, deliberate. the screen was lit, an image burned into it—a picture of him kissing someone at the bar.

someone who wasn’t you.

his breath caught. his fingers trembled as he picked up the phone, staring at the evidence of his betrayal. the rush of blood to his ears drowned out everything else.

"you weren’t even going to tell me, were you?" your voice cracked, anger bubbling just below the surface of your words.

"i—" his voice faltered. "i didn’t mean for it to happen. i was drunk, and—"

"don’t." the single word stopped him cold. you stood abruptly, wrapping your arms around yourself like you were holding yourself together with sheer will. your eyes shimmered, fresh tears threatening to spill, but you blinked them back, your voice sharper this time. "don’t insult me by blaming it on the alcohol."

his chest tightened, the weight of his mistake pressing harder with every word you spoke. "it was a mistake. i swear, it didn’t mean anything. i—"

"you don’t get to decide what it means, seungcheol." your voice broke, and this time, a sob slipped out. you pressed a hand to your mouth, as if you could stop it, but it was too late. the tears were falling again, streaming down your face even as you tried to stand tall. "you don’t get to brush it off like it’s something small, like it’s something i’m supposed to forgive just because you feel guilty now."

he moved closer, his hands trembling as he reached for you, desperate to bridge the chasm he’d created. "please, it was a moment of weakness. i love you—"

"love?" you let out a strangled laugh, the sound choked by tears. you wiped at your face with shaky hands but didn’t bother to hide how much you were breaking. "is this what love looks like to you? leaving me here all night, wondering if you were safe, only to find out you were with someone else?"

his knees felt weak. he sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. "i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i don’t even know why I—"

"stop." you cut him off sharply, your voice steadier now, though the tears kept falling. "don’t sit there and act like you don’t know why. you knew exactly what you were doing. you just didn’t care enough about me to stop yourself."

his own tears started to spill, hot and heavy, but he didn’t wipe them away. "it was a mistake," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. "it didn’t mean anything."

"it meant enough for you to do it," you shot back, your tone trembling but firm.

you bent down to pick up your bag from the floor, your movements slow, like every step you took was crushing you.

"wait," he blurted, panic lacing his voice. "where are you going? we can fix this. we can—"

"we?" you turned to face him one last time, your tear-streaked face filled with heartbreak and resolve. "there is no ‘we’ anymore, seungcheol. you destroyed that the moment you kissed her, the moment you decided i wasn’t enough."

his throat tightened as he tried to hold back his own sobs. "i’ll do anything. just… don’t leave. please."

you shook your head, the weight of the tears on your lashes making them shimmer in the dull morning light. "i hope she was worth it," you said quietly, your voice trembling as your lips quivered. "i really do."

he could only watch as you walked out the door, the sound of it closing behind you echoing in the empty apartment.

he stayed on the couch, staring at the spot where you’d stood moments ago, his tears falling freely now. the silence was suffocating, filled with the weight of everything he’d lost. he buried his face in his hands again, but this time, there was no one left to comfort him.

and he knew he deserved it.

[aedearly]

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of loose quotes taken from various characters from hades (supergiant games). these quotes are from the first game of the series. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst! feel free to edit as you see fit, especially since some are gendered.

❝ i’m leaving. try and stop me. ❞ ❝ that could have gone better. ❞ ❝ why can’t you just stay? ❞ ❝ i wish you could come with me. ❞ ❝ you’re coming with me. ❞ ❝ i have to take you back. ❞ ❝ but for you, i will be making an exception. ❞ ❝ whew… they’re gone. ❞ ❝ now, come on, we got places to be! ❞ ❝ may the fates favour your journey. ❞ ❝ oh you know, i’d rather have my eyes put out, but thanks for offering! ❞ ❝ if only… ❞ ❝ you should be ashamed of yourself, and learn your place. ❞ ❝ ahh, so you are taking pity on me, then? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry that it has to be this way. ❞ ❝ you’re late. ❞ ❝ will i see you soon? ❞ ❝ did you miss me? ❞ ❝ i’m home. ❞ ❝ we’re heading home. ❞ ❝ you… came back? ❞ ❝ i hope i didn’t keep you waiting very long, did i? ❞ ❝ is something wrong? ❞ ❝ i can’t believe this. ❞ ❝ i’m in your debt. ❞ ❝ there’s going to be payback, you know. ❞ ❝ … damn you. ❞ ❝ this is for you. ❞ ❝ do you remember me? my name is—ah, nevermind. ❞ ❝ i’m not who you think i am. ❞ ❝ keep following that heart of yours. ❞ ❝ to hell with this place! ❞ ❝ fear is for the weak. ❞ ❝ oh, look at you, you poor, poor thing, you’re hurt! ❞ ❝ you’re such a sweetheart. ❞ ❝ you brought this on yourself. ❞ ❝ no need to thank me, mate. ❞ ❝ please, i don’t want to do this… ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do this… ❞ ❝ only the best for you. ❞ ❝ i hope you’re right. ❞ ❝ gods grant me strength… ❞ ❝ that is the worst idea i think i’ve ever heard. ❞ ❝ do you understand how little sense that makes? ❞ ❝ look what i found! ❞ ❝ something’s changed about the beating of your heart. ❞ ❝ no wonder they don’t like you. ❞ ❝ wish i could be there to see your face. ❞ ❝ i’ll earn your favour yet. ❞ ❝ how bad could it be? ❞ ❝ hello there, handsome. ❞ ❝ … this is the cheesiest thing i’ve heard from you. ❞ ❝ what has gotten into you? ❞ ❝ blood and darkness! ❞ ❝ lucky for you, i’ve no pride like many others here. ❞ ❝ it’s over. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ go. away. i won’t repeat myself. ❞ ❝ i knew your heart was true. ❞ ❝ let’s kiss and make up! ❞ ❝ mischief, me? oh please! ❞ ❝ i don’t know how you can stand this kind of thing… ❞ ❝ you tried. that’s what matters. ❞ ❝ a man after my own heart… ❞ ❝ why won’t you give up? ❞ ❝ ever so stubborn, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ life and death, one and the same. ❞ ❝ you’re running from yourself. again. ❞ ❝ what do you want from me? leave me alone. we’ve nothing to discuss anymore. ❞ ❝ i cannot bring myself to stay upset with you forever. ❞ ❝ the truth is i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ ❝ i have to see her! ❞ ❝ so how goes wilful disobedience of late? ❞ ❝ you think all these gifts will make things go back to the way they were? ❞ ❝ we’re older now—i’d hope we’re wiser, too. ❞ ❝ i have to go. ❞ ❝ we were having such a good time! ❞ ❝ time is up. ❞ ❝ you’re so reckless. ❞ ❝ thank you for always keeping me on my toes. ❞ ❝ your luck’s run out. ❞ ❝ i don’t know why i bother with you, honestly. ❞ ❝ may i call you my friend? ❞ ❝ i’d like to make a toast, to you! ❞ ❝ no need for special thanks. ❞ ❝ i’ve some memories i’m not quite ready to give up on yet. ❞ ❝ i’ll break your heart. ❞

[swiftyangx12]

🟦🤍A Misunderstanding🩵🟥

[Pairing]: TFA Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!Autobot![Reader]

[Synopsis]: [D/N] can’t catch a break from being misidentified for a Decepticon. At least they have someone who understands their struggles as a commander.

[Inspiration]: A request I sent out some time ago and @signedaiko wrote the HCs out. (HCs with the Special Ops![S/O])

[D/N] = Designation (Meaning your name)

[Gender Neutral Reader]

[(A/N)]: Based on Aiko’s HCs, I’m only writing Optimus in this fic because I’m kind of biased. Also, I need to practice writing characters from the TF franchise and TFA O.P. seems like he’s an easy start. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story.

[WARNING]: Possible misuse of Cybertronian Vocabulary and Terminology (I’m still new to the fandom)

[Back when [D/N] was first promoted to their position as Commander of the Information Operations, they were issued to get a paint job with much darker colors since most missions require stealth. The team [D/N] leads and work with are good bots, but the only trouble the whole unit faces sometimes are the misunderstandings from a first glance.]

Random Cybertronian: EHH! DECEPTICON!!!

[D/N]: No, no, no! I’m not a Dece-!

Random Cybertronian: *Whacks them with an alloy pole*

[D/N]: OW!

🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥

[It didn’t help when they visit Earth to see their Conjunx Endura. People, especially Detroit citizens, also mistook them for one.]

Random citizen: Call the Autobots! Decepticon on sight!

[D/N]: Wait a klik! I’m not with the bad guys.

[After clearing up the commotion]

Random citizen: I’m so sorry! I thought you were one of those Decepticons.

[D/N]: It’s alright. At least you have good optics if spotting one, but please be sure if you see their Insignia next time.

🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥

[It also didn’t help that even the Decepticons on Earth were bewildered to discover that [D/N] is an Autobot.]

Starscream: When did one of our Decepticons switch sides?!

[D/N]: *Enraged* 💢 I AM NOT A DECEPTICON IN THE FIRST PLACE, YOU FRAGGING IDIOTS!!!

The Decepticons: Uh oh.

[D/N]: *Unsheathes their razor neon blades and sprints towards the enemies* AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥

[Yeah, from that last battle, [D/N] was on rage mode where they kicked the Decepticons’ afts to the extremes. On their own. Probably put them out of commission for a while. They definitely need private time with their Sparkmate.]

[The Plant: The Autobots’ Secret Base]

[D/N]: Oppy, sweetspark~ *Back-hugs Optimus* My wonderful and lovely conjunx~

Optimus Prime: *Holds their bitarlueus’ carefully and looks back* What is it, [D/N]? You usually call me those names if something is bothering you.

[D/N]: There is. When I retire from the position as commander of my unit, I’m getting a new paint job.

Optimus Prime: Oh, that doesn’t sound bad. Why the sudden thought?

[D/N]: *Vents out from their intake (Sighs)* Almost every bot and person I encounter, they mistake me for a Decepticon. It’s what I get for earning a job where my team and I are required to wear coatings for stealth operations. The tones are too close to the actual faction’s.

Optimus Prime: Well, you also act scary when on duty.

[D/N]: *Pouts* That doesn’t help either.

Optimus Prime: *Chuckles a little* Don’t worry, [D/N]. We know you’re good and just doing your job as a commander. You proved to be a great bot every cycle.

[D/N]: Yeah…But I still remember when Sari and Bee freaked out after seeing me.

Optimus Prime: They didn’t know you’re on our side at that time. Now, they love you for being your true self.

[D/N]: Yeah…Y’know, when I do retire, you wanna help choose which color scheme suits me?

Optimus Prime: Only if you’re comfortable with the choices.

[D/N]: *Smiles at him* You’re so thoughtful, Oppy. I love you.

Optimus Prime: Love you too, [D/N].

🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥

[A Few Deca-Cycles Later]

[At Night]

[S/N] = Sparkling’s Name

[S/N]: *Runs up to Optimus on their little pedes* Sire! Sire! Was this Carrier? *Holds up a data-pad with an old image of [D/N] back when they were a commander*

Optimus Prime: “Oh scrap.” Where did you find this? You know your carrier isn’t comfortable talking about their old job yet.

[D/N]: Don’t worry, Oppy. I let them see the ‘pad.

Optimus Prime: [D/N]. I didn’t expect you to tell so soon.

[D/N]: *Shrugs* [S/N] would learn sooner than later. They didn’t believe the image was me and needed your confirmation.

Optimus Prime: Well… *Picks up [S/N] and adjusts his hold* To tell you the truth, that is your carrier.

[S/N]: Really?! They look too scary to be my creator.

[D/N]: *Made an expression on their faceplate that screams, “Even my kid thinks I looked scary.”* (￣^￣)

Optimus Prime: That’s because back then, Carrier needed to look the part as a leader for their special unit. They have to wear darker coats of paint as their uniform.

[S/N]: Why? No bright colors allowed?

[D/N]: No bright colors, because I had missions where you need to be sneaky. Hiding in the dark and go for the surprise attack! *Starts tickling their Sparkling*

[S/N]: *Laughs from the “attack”* S-Stop! Stop! Can’t vent!

[D/N]: *Stops tickling* Alright, alright. Now, you better get ready for stasis mode since the next cycle is a big one.

[S/N]: *Gasps* I get to visit uncle Bee and uncle Bulk!

[D/N]: That’s right. Now… *Picks them up from Optimus and settles them down* Wash up and maybe we’ll read you a story before berth.

[S/N]: *Nods and hurries off to freshen up*

Optimus Prime: *Hugs [D/N] from behind* You know, I fear next time you need to be be called in to resume your duties.

[D/N]: *Leaning in the hug* Don’t worry, Oppy. I’m sure my successor is doing fine as commander and I only come in as a consultant for my former team.

Optimus Prime: If you say so. Then more time between us and see how it plays out.

[D/N]: After reading a story to [S/N], then maybe we’ll see what happens next.

Optimus Prime: *Vents out* Love you, [D/N].

[D/N]: Love you too, Oppy.

❤️[Reblogs help creators and creates more content]💙

[(A/N)]: Please be sure to visit @signedaiko’s blog and check out their work. Their writing is really entertaining and fun to read.

[juyeoz]

GOOD GRACES — YANG JUNGWON

010 ┆road to ***** (0.7k words)

You knocked on the door of classroom 126—the photography class. It was only 3:16 PM, there was no way the teacher had left so quickly, right?

“Hey!” She greeted you once the door was fully opened.

“Hello, sorry to bother you! I was just wondering if I could borrow a camera for the Yearbook club? Just for now.” You explained as she thought for a moment.

“If I’m being honest, we do use these cameras in class… Will it be back by tomorrow morning?”

“Of course! I have my own camera at home, I just forgot to bring it today and these pictures are urgent. I’ll leave it in my club room and bring it back first thing in the morning.” You said.

“Does 8:20 AM sound nice?”

She nodded at your words as a wave of relief washed over you.

“Thank you!” You said as she excused herself and went back into the class to grab the said camera.

“Why are you cheesing right now? You look stupid.”

You turned around in search of the voice and were met with Jungwon.

“First off, be quiet. Second off, what does cheesing even mean?”

“Of course you wouldn’t know.” He insulted as you furrowed your brows.

“Whatever.” You muttered and awaited Ms. A’s return.

Jungwon leaned on the lockers nearby and whipped out his phone. He had to communicate with his teammates to see how long they would take to get there.

“By the way, do you have your schedule for this week and next week yet?” You asked, hoping he wouldn’t argue with you.

“Only this week, so far. Didn’t you see in the yearbook group chat? I mentioned when I would get my schedules.” He replied with a raised brow.

“Okay, good for you! I don’t care.”

“But you just asked?”

You inhaled deeply and exhaled deeply. You couldn’t lose your mind over him—as if you don’t already—but not in front of a teacher’s classroom.

You never knew when she would come out.

“I’ll text you my schedule for practice and games from now on then.” He said while going back onto his phone.

You were glad he worked with you, but he didn’t deserve a thank you. Not at all.

“Here you go.” Ms. A said as the door swung open.

“Thank you, I’ll return it tomorrow morning, I promise.” You said and smiled at her, in which she returned.

“Let’s go.” You said sternly, your smile dropping as you turned around.

Jungwon pushed himself off of the locker he leaned on and followed you. However, he left quite a gap between you two.

He couldn’t be caught lacking.

You turned on the camera and began to adjust its settings. This photo process was supposed to be quick and easy—no complications.

“They should be at the gym by now. Hurry up.” He said from behind you.

“You’re the one falling behind!”

“I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“Neither do I.” You rolled your eyes and opened the doors of the gymnasium.

The sound of volleyballs hitting the ground around you as you continued fixing the settings of the camera.

It was way different than the one you had at home.

“Are you blind?!” Jungwon shouted, now directly behind you with his arm stretched out.

The volleyball that made its way to you was then slapped away by Jungwon’s hand.

“Sorry! I yelled heads but I don’t think you heard me.” Riki said while running up to you.

“Seriously, I’m sorry.” Riki apologized again.

“It’s okay, I didn’t get hit anyways.” You said with a smile.

“Thanks to Jungwon—”

“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, I only did that for the camera. If she breaks it, the photography teacher won’t trust her ever again. Hell, she might even make her pay for it.”

“Shut up, would you?! It would be both of us, not just me.”

“I wasn’t the one who asked for the camera. I wasn’t even near you guys at the time either.”

“Yes, you were?”

“Only at the end when she gave it to you.” He said and walked over to the group of boys, dragging Riki with him.

“Don’t talk to her, she’s going to put a spell on you.” Jungwon whispered—or so he thought.

“I can hear you.” You said in annoyance.

“Good for you. Take my words with a grain of salt.”

“Just get into position. Shortest in the front, tallest in the back.” You instructed and followed them from behind.

Seriously, you hated him so much.

PREVIOUS MASTERLIST NEXT

ENHYPEN PERM TAGLIST — @miumura @macapunoz @kxppachu @ancnymcnzjy

GOOD GRACES TAGLIST — @anuisamazing @garrdenwon @dreamiestay @starfallia @mrchweeee @mymelodyfanatic @getoxo @jiamini @imnotyizhuo @heartheejake @wonlluvie @theothernads @yvjw @riribelle @winuvs @shotaddicted @hollxe1 @pinknjm @en-dream @elegancefr @wensurr @enhaz1 @r1kification @sunghxxnie @unhakki @hoonieluv @veilico @ddolleri @ahnneyong @samyria @stvrriki @domfikeluva @mensisim @tasnemluvs @httpenhoon @sch1z0prenic @kazemiya

© JUYEOZ

[ghostface001]

Shooting Stars

A rewrite of March's shooting star festival cutscene. I kept his dialogue, because I think it's such a good insight to his character, but I added to it in a way that I'm pretty proud of! I hope you enjoy!

March x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Tags: Slight angst, fluff, idiots in love, oblivious flirting, emotional constipation, light swearing

Last night, you dreamed of stars. 

It was all everyone was talking about for the past few days. Friday night at the inn, Nora and Holt each had their own stories of their first shooting star festival spent together. At the Saturday market, Vera lamented not being in Mistria for the festival (apparently, it’s the best view) as she cut your hair. And today, Elsie stopped by your house to hand deliver a brooch — traditionally used to invite a ‘special someone.’

You turn the brooch over in your hand. It’s shaped like a star, with crystal beads dangling down. “It’s beautiful,” You comment softly. “If I invite someone… does it have to be romantic?”

Elsie pauses. It’s likely that she’s never had to consider the festival as anything other than romantic. “Hmm, I suppose it doesn’t. But a night alone, underneath the stars, destinies intertwined; would you rather spend it with a friend, or a partner?” 

The conspiratory wink she sends only twists your insides. When you moved to Mistria, romance wasn’t on your mind. It wasn’t something you’d thought about until no one could talk about anything else. “I just don’t think anyone would want to spend the festival with me in that sense.”

She laughs, and for a moment, you wonder how Juniper snuck her way into the conversation. It’s similar; high pitched, snooty, but it’s different in the way she’s laughing with you rather than at you. “Oh, Darling,” She chuckles, waving her hand, only stopping when she sees the confusion on your face. “Oh, you’re serious? Darling, have you truly not noticed — you know what, I’m sure you already have someone in mind.” She chuckles again, taking your hand and closing your fingers over the brooch. “Just invite him, and have fun. It’s such a special night, no matter who you spend it with.”

Elsie parts with a quick peck on both sides of your cheeks, leaving you with the brooch and your own thoughts.

~~~

Five points dig into the palm of your hand, guiding you on your walk to the mines. That’s where Ryis said they would be. 

“Hey!” Olric spots you first, waving cheerfully as you approach. “You want to go mining with us? March thought we’d be able to get some extra copper before the festival.”

Normally, you would say yes. But your nerves were already telling you to get as far away as possible, and working in the mines with the source of those nerves was mortifying. “Actually, I wanted to talk to March. Can I steal you for a second?”

You don’t know why the thought of asking him is getting you so worked up. When Elsie gave you the brooch, he was the first person to come to mind, and it didn’t bother you. And then she started talking about her past partners to the festival, and intertwined destinies, and now all you want to do is chuck the brooch in the river and pass out in the mines again. It took a few dips in the pond looking for artifacts — and then a shower — to get out of your own head. And then the walk through town and the narrows brought all those worries back. What if he thought it was romantic? What would you say? 

March stands in front of you at the old flower bed, his hands stuffed in his pockets, as Olric preoccupies himself with double checking their rucksacks for everything they need by the mine entrance. “What do you want?” His brusk question somehow manages to quell your nerves. 

You hold out your hand, revealing the brooch. “Elsie gave this to me this morning, she said it’s a part of a tradition, or something,” You begin, digging your shoe in the dirt path. “You can say no, I won’t take it personally. I just thought it would be fun. As friends, obviously.”

When you finally manage to look at him, March is staring down at the brooch with a look of pure bewilderment. His eye twitches slightly as he glances up at you, trying to read your expression for something, then back at the brooch. He seems to register that you’re no longer talking, and he flushes, his shoulders tensing as he looks away with pinched features. “Fine. Olric will just badger me about it if I say no.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I said yes, didn’t I?” He snaps, glaring at you, his cheeks only getting redder. 

You can’t help but smile, only seeming to fluster him more. “Cool. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Be at the summit at eight. Don’t be late, I won’t wait up for you,” He grumbles, finally snatching the brooch from your hand and stuffing it in his pocket. Before you can respond, he turns on his heel, stalking away with his head down. You watch as he reaches Olric, who grins and claps him on the shoulder with a thumbs up, earning a snapped response from March that you can’t hear as they disappear into the mine’s entrance. 

~~~

When you walk through the clearing to the summit at eight on the dot, you find March already there. “Hey.” His greeting is shorter than usual. He only glances at you for a second, returning his focus to the two paper cups in his hand before thrusting one at you. “It will get cold. I figured you wouldn’t dress for the weather.”

You laugh as you take the cup, the warmth in your hand blooming as your fingers brush against his. “You’re literally wearing a tank top.”

“I’m used to it,” He snaps softly.

With a snort, you shake your head, approaching the setup of blankets and pillows. “Wow. I can’t believe I missed this last year.” The sun is setting, painting the sky orange and pink. You’ve been on the summit before, but something about tonight fills you with a new wonder. 

“You… missed the festival?” He was about to sit down when your words gave him pause, an unreadable expression passing over his face. 

“I was working.” You pass the blanket, looking over the edge. “I wanted to get to the next mineshaft stop in the mines and lost track of time. I passed out down there, actually. Valen chewed me out the next morning for making her work on her birthday. Oh! I have some dried tea leaves and flowers, I could make her her own bag of loose leaf tomorrow—”

March interrupts your musing. “I’d rather you not fall off the cliff, would you come sit down already?”

The sun sets as you both sit on a star-shaped pillow, and after a while of sipping your drinks in silence, the first shooting star streaks across the sky. And then, another follows. And another. 

You’re entranced by the show when March speaks. “Well, here we are. Up on the summit… watching the stars.” His voice sours, and you turn to see him looking up at the sky with a grimace. 

He was having a bad time already? Your awe subsides, and you sigh. “Yup.” You take another sip of hot chocolate. “So, uh, did you watch the stars with your family when you were younger?”

“My… family?” He pauses. “Olric and I didn’t have time for that kind of thing growing up.”

You glance back over at him to find him staring down at his drink. “Me neither. My parents—”

“Can we talk about something else?” 

There isn’t malice in his tone as he interrupts you, but the urgency drops a pit in your stomach. “Yeah, of course,” You answer, wracking your brain for something else. “The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?”

His grip tightens on his cup. You let out a sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resigning yourself to a silent night when he suddenly stands, glaring down at you with an intensity you haven’t seen since first moving to Mistria. “Why did you really invite me here, anyway?” March demands. “To press my buttons? As some kind of… joke?” 

“A joke? What the hell are you talking about?” He only tenses more as your brow furrows. “I invited you because I like you!”

“You… what?” Confusion takes over for a moment before the anger and frustration returns. “Quit messing around. If you want to watch the stars, let’s watch the stars.”

“No!” You pull yourself to your feet, now glaring at him as March stares at you in shock. “You really think I invited you as a joke? What’s the joke, then? Explain it to me, because I have no idea.” He only sets his jaw, not taking the bait as you clench your fists at your sides. “I invited you because I thought it would be fun, because I thought we were finally at a place where you didn’t hate me just for moving here, but I guess I was wrong. You didn’t have to accept my invitation, March. So either get over yourself, or get out of here. I’m not letting you ruin this festival for me.” You sit back down, stubbornly staring at the sky to avoid looking at March, who you can see standing frozen in the corner of your eye. 

You expect him to scoff and stomp away, grumbling under his breath about how annoying you are. You expect him to accuse you of something else, or to lob another insult your way in retaliation for the ‘get over yourself’ comment. You don’t expect him to sit back down begrudgingly, not that you could celebrate it as a win even if you wanted to, which you don’t, because you’re still pissed off at his little temper tantrum. “The stars… do look pretty from up here.” March finally breaks the silence, his voice strained. “I didn’t realize they would be so clear.”

You scoff. “How did you not know what it would be like? Did you miss last year’s festival, too?”

“I… was working.”

A sudden snort escapes you, breaking the wall of frustration you had put up. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not.” March rolls his eyes, but you can see the hint of a smile — or a smirk, more likely — playing at his lips. “You can see the stars any time. Why would I waste an entire night staring up at the same boring sky when I could be doing something productive with my time?” He shrugs. “That was my plan for tonight, but… we’re all caught up on our orders for this week, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a night off.”

You don’t know what it is about him. Maybe it’s that despite his initial coldness to you, you knew it was from a genuine care for his home. Maybe it’s the way you can see the pressure he puts himself under, the standards he holds himself to, and you know his attitude is less about you and more about himself. Whatever it is, it never fails to roll the passive aggressive comments off your back as soon as he makes an effort to be nice. 

That doesn’t mean you’re not going to still give him shit about it. “And then you were an asshole.”

He snorts, scratching the back of his head with a small frown. “Yeah, pretty much.” It’s not an apology, but you don’t feel like pushing it. “It almost feels like they’re drawing you in, doesn’t it?” It does. Not only are you drawn into the stars, but you also feel drawn to the person next to you. Two stars shoot across the sky, as though bound together. It isn’t until they disappear that you remember to blink.

Despite the distance between you, a sense of warmth leaves when March eventually stands. “It’s getting pretty late,” He announces, holding his hand out to you. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the farm. If you fall and hurt yourself in the dark, I know I won’t hear the end of it.”

You laugh and take his hand, that warmth returning as he helps you up. “Please, I could make the way back blindfolded if I had to. Let’s test it, do you have your headband on you?”

“Unless you want to make Valen work on her birthday for the second year in a row, you can endanger yourself as a party trick another time.”

“Promise? It’s a good party trick.” He looks away as you grin, and you can see his cheeks flush under the light of the moon. 

~~~

“Watch your step, a bit of the decking is uneven after the storm last week,” You warn. “I mentioned it to Adeline and Ryis, they said they’d get on it this week as soon as they got the supplies.”

“So you’re the reason I had to complete another nail order.” March steps over a splintered piece of wood. 

You roll your eyes. “I’ll put in an order for something more ‘worthy’ of your talents to make up for it. How about a spoon?”

“Cute.”

“Careful, I might start thinking you actually like me.” He stumbles over another part of the decking that had lifted, causing you to laugh. “Don’t fall and hurt yourself in the dark, March, I won’t hear the end of it.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s more like it.” You continue walking, him grumbling after you. Another shooting star overheard gives you pause, remembering something important. “I never saw a shooting star as a kid. For the longest time, I thought they were fake. Just some lie to tell kids so they’d believe in wishes, y’know?” You slow down, electing to walk past the shorter path through the edge of town to walk around Sweetwater Farm instead. “The first time I saw one, it was my third season as an adventurer. I wished for a family. And when the missive to move in here came, it came true. Everyone took me in. They made me feel welcome, like they wanted me here. Except you. That’s why I invited you.”

You don’t have to look at him to know the confused sneer painting his face. “You invited me because… I was mean to you when you moved in?”

“Everyone was so hopeful about me getting the town rank back up,” You continue. “I love everyone here, and I was so grateful, but it was a lot of pressure. I felt like I had to live up to everyone’s expectations. But you… you didn’t have any expectations of me — except that I wouldn’t last, but that was fine. For some reason, it helped. You already assumed the worst of me, so I didn’t have to be the best. I can be myself around you. Does that make sense?”

When you turn to look at him, he’s staring at the ground in contemplation as he walks with you. “... Yeah, actually. It does.” You continue on in a much more comfortable silence than the summit, the frogs croaking and the wind whistling through the trees speaking for you. Eventually, you get to the farm. “Woah.” March blinks, shock painting his features as he takes it in.

You scoff. “I know, don’t start with me. Between crops, animals, the mines, the request board, and Adeline’s projects, I don’t have time to clean up. Once winter comes around, I can focus more on making it look presentable.”

“That’s not—” March shakes his head. “You don’t have time for decorating, but you have time for bothering me?”

“Oh, I make time to bother you. It’s one of the highlights of my day.” You grin at him as you reach your door. “Thanks for walking me back. I’ll come by to put in my spoon order tomorrow.”

“I’m not making you a spoon.”

“I guess I’ll just keep eating with my hands, then.” The disgusted grimace on March’s face causes laughter to bubble out of you. “See? Best part of my day, right there. Goodnight, March.”

He rolls his eyes again, his face turning red as he turns and walks away. “Night,” He calls out, not looking back. 

Your smile stays the rest of the night as you get ready for bed, and that night, you dream of stars.

~~~

The next morning, after dropping off Valen’s birthday gift, you stop by the blacksmith’s. March lifts his head, nodding in greeting before returning to whatever he’s working on at his desk. “I’m going to the mines, are you low on any ore? I can bring some by later.”

“We’re fine.” The response is immediate, he doesn’t give it any thought. Typical. “Since you’re not busy, there’s a notebook in my room. It’s on my shelf.”

“Good for you.” He shoots you an unimpressed look, but you’re already on your way to his door. “You know, it doesn’t hurt to throw in a ‘please’ every once in a while,” you comment as you step inside his room. It’s neat, with a potted plant in the corner and a small watering can. At the far end of the room, a tall shelf is lined with frames and trophies from various blacksmithing competitions. It doesn’t surprise you to see how many read ‘first place.’ You find his notebook quickly, and turn to leave the room when something catches your eye. Two shelves above, near the most recent trophy, sits a star-shaped brooch with crystal beads. You clutch the notebook tightly. You had expected March to just throw the brooch in a chest somewhere, not… keep it on a shelf of his achievements. 

To avoid dwelling on it for too long, you go back to his desk and hand him the notebook. Luckily, he doesn’t ask what took you so long. “I was told that I should thank you for last night, so… thanks,” March sighs, pausing from his work to look up at you. “Just don’t let it go to your head.” He smirks, causing you to roll your eyes. 

Still, you can't help but smile. “I’ll try my best. See you later, March. I want my spoon by the end of the week." It's his turn to roll his eyes as you wink and continue your way to the mines.

~~~

Friday morning, a packaged set of cutlery sits in your mailbox.

'Josephine accidentally ordered too many for the inn. — March'

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

The Laws of Attraction (Lawyer!Higurnami x Law Student!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem!Reader x Hiromi Higuruma

Synopsis: You are a law school senior and intern juggling schoolwork and your job who attends your firm’s anniversary party one night. While there, Higuruma Hiromi and Nanami Kento, your bosses and the two sexy attorneys you’re secretly attracted to, help you celebrate your final grades and receiving a brand new position at their firm….just not in the way that they should. But who cares about what’s right or wrong when it feels so good?

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Black-coded!Fem!Reader; Lawyers!Nanami x Higuruma; Law Student/Intern!Reader; Eye-Fucking; Secret Crush; Mutual Pining; Threesome; Coworkers to Lovers; Mild Power Play; Lowkey Flirting; Office Sex; CMNF; Dual Cunnilingus; Deepthroating; Doggystyle Over Desk; Spitroast; Facefucking; Dom/sub Undertones; Throatpie; Cum On Ass; Sneaky Sex; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for DAYS now. I’m so happy I’m finally able to share it after finally writing it. I hope y’all enjoy! KISSES!! 💋💋 -Jazz

**********

You know that a second glass of champagne probably isn’t logical or practical.

But if you have to listen to your fellow intern and total preppy asshole drone on about his vacation stories, you’ll definitely blow your brains out.

You stand in a small circle with the other interns that started with you last year for the internship program. The firm has one that stretches all year long, starting in the spring and ending in the winter. You’ve known these people for months now and while you like some, there are others than you’d gladly avoid.

Like the preppy exchange student from Upstate New York who came to Japan to study abroad. Of course, he’s standing beside you in his Armani student, buzzed off of his second beer and oozing arrogance and ignorance. “My friends wanted to go to Bora Bora again, but I always found Bora Bora to be sooo overhyped,” he groans. “That’s why we went to Hawaii. It was cheaper.”

He takes a sip of his beer, dripping some down his tie. You don’t warn him. ”I heard Hawaiians didn’t want tourists anymore,” Yuki points out, standing next to you. “Something about them pushing natives out of their homes because of construction.”

She sips on her champagne and eyes you as she does it. You fight the urge to smile. “Well, that didn’t kick me out,” the exchange student chuckles. “I had a ball! Lotta beer on the beach and a lot of girls too.” He turns to you now, your worst fear coming true. “You ever been to Hawaii, Y/N?”

You force yourself to turn towards the young, blonde jock who only came to work here because his father has connections in the legal system as a hotshot judge in New York. As a young, Black woman, you worked your ass off to get into this program and into law school. As you can imagine, juggling both is a damn job in itself.

You purposely kept quiet for half of the night to avoid exerting energy in boring conversations, but to avoid dissociating for the fifth time tonight, you fix your mouth into a smile. “No, but I prefer Costa Rica. The water is prettier. Excuse me, I’m gonna fill myself up.”

Quickly, you excuse yourself from the group and walk over to the alcohol table located on the other side of the gorgeous ballroom. “Oh, pass me another beer if they got one,” the jock suggests. “We can share, if you want. I know you like a good beer too.” He gives you a lopsided smile that’s supposed to get you hot and bothered like it has to all of the other girls he’s screwed.

You stifle the urge to vomit and give him a tight lipped smile before quickly walking off…or as quickly as you can in your Jimmy Choo heels. Your friend and roommate forced you into them, telling you that only these shoes brought out your skin and meshed with your slim, strapless, black dress.

You will admit that you feel the sexiest you’ve ever felt in it. Even when you tried it on and had your friend tie the strings behind your neck to hold the slinky article of clothing up, you felt like the baddest bitch walking. As soon as you walked into the ballroom, you caught eyes….just not the eyes you truly want.

As you walk across the ballroom, nodding and smiling at guests (lawyers, politicians, city officials, etc.), you admire the beautiful decor of the room. The decorators rearranged cushioned furniture, added gorgeous white flowers as centerpieces, and polished the marbled floor so much that you can see yourself in it. The scent of cinnamon and cloves drift through the air along with the bitter winter breeze pouring in from outside as people come and go for cigarette breaks.

They truly went all out for this anniversary party.

Your firm is located on the sixth floor of a twelve-story building in downtown Tokyo, specifically in the business district. Every weekday you catch the train at 7AM with fellow bright-eyed, bushy-tailed workers in their uniforms and weary, hungover students preparing for an 8AM course. You’ve always loved the hustle and bustle of the city; the constant activity; the sense of determination and purpose in the air when you do your eight-minute route to the train station to work.

Maybe that’s why you decided to take the internship offer when you were picked last spring. You were a law student, a senior-to-be, in need of a legal position that would give you more experience and had a decent pay. Your job as a waitress could only do so much. After you were interviewed by the program director, she set you up for another interview with the attorney you would be working for. When you realized that you would be interviewed by two attorneys instead of one, you thought it was some kind of mistake.

But you were reassured by the director that Kento Nanami and Hiromi Higuruma, the top attorneys at their firm, wanted you specifically. “They picked you out from ten other candidates,” she gushed to you over the phone. “They’re so impressed with your resume and our interview notes.”

You smile to yourself as you take another glass of champagne. You can’t believe that this was twelve months ago. Now if you can only snag a full time position here and ace your final exams so you can graduate next spring, your life will be complete.

Yuki appears beside you, dressed in a red dress and wearing her blonde locks in waves. ”He likes you,” she giggles. You roll your eyes beneath your full lashes. “I could give less of a fuck,” you mutter. “I felt like shovin’ a cupcake in his mouth to shut him up.” Yuki laughs despite your deadass statement. “So where’s your date tonight?” she asks. “Since preppy white jocks don’t float your boat.”

No man floats your boat nowadays, it seems. Not when you’re in law school. What guy would want a girl who stresses over essays and exams every other week? “Well, my roomie has a cold and couldn’t come,” you explain. “I wanted to stay, but she forced me to put on this dress and come.”

“And it’s a damn good thing she did!” Yuki scoffs. “You look amazing!” You smile shyly, feeling your cheeks flush. “And I’d rather you be here celebrating the 10th year of the firm with me than at home. Intern or not, you’re a part of this team too, Y/N.”

Though Yuki’s words are sweet, you’d much rather be at home with your roommate watching Netflix in your sweatshirt and booty shorts, shoveling ice cream down your throat and maybe popping an edible to ignore the impending anxiety of your exam scores tonight.

Anything than being a room with a bunch of preppy folks and pretending to be interested in anything they have to say. But you got yourself into your pretty gown for two important reasons: one because this party is a good distraction from your incoming grades and two, you’re waiting for two guests in particular to show up. Your bosses…or as your friend would call them, your sexy lawyer baes, Nanami and Higuruma.

These are two names that pop up often at your firm and in the legal world. As two Harvard graduates and prominent lawyers in business and corporate law, they were among the original ten lawyers who started out at the firm when it was still very small and upcoming. Now expansive and holding over a hundred attorneys, Nanami and Higuruma are still the top in the game in their thirties.

They are intelligent. They are virtuous. They are calm, cool, and collected when needed in the court. And they are also fine. As. Fuck.

And you know all of this because you work underneath them and have been for over twelve months as an intern. You never knew why they hired you to personally work for them, but you jumped at the chance to take the offer when it was given to you after your one-on-two interview with them.

As unapproachable and cool they seem, the two lawyers are pretty lenient with you. They allow you to use their shared office to do your work, they work around your class schedule, and don’t make you work overtime. Most of your duties are fetching coffee for them in the mornings from the lobby cafe, editing and proofreading documents, delivering files to different departments, and drafting papers.

They truly make it easy for you. They aren’t hard or difficult like a lot of other lawyers in your firm who run their assistants ragged. They answer all of your questions and push you to give your all. “But remember to rest,” Nanami always tells you. “Burnout is a killer.” He is the softest of the two and a true sweetheart at heart.

Higuruma is more of the sterner one, always giving you constructive criticism with any underlayer of encouragement. He has a dry humor that reminds you of a boring dad and has you giggling while you’re doing your work. The two lawyers bounce off of one another, having disagreements and arguments but always coming together to win a case.

They are truly a duo made in heaven, especially in the looks department. It isn’t a surprise to you that the entire firm has their eyes on them as handsome as they are—soft-looking lips, firm stares, and eyes that make your blood run hot. Your dreams are often filled with hot visions of doing very nasty things with Higuruma’s nose and stroking Nanami’s cheekbones with your fingers.

As far as you know, they’re single and unmarried, but things can change. Not to mention that you’re their intern! There is a very clear line that you don’t cross at a job and that includes not fucking your bosses.

No matter how sexy they are in their suits, or how intoxicating their cologne is, or how you wish to feel their big hands on you, you can never ever destroy the work relationship you have with them and fuck up your entire life. Besides, how else are you going to get a job here when you graduate law school?

So you disguise your interest in them as kindness and shove your horiness away, never acting on your attractions to them. But sometimes, you do think that the feeling is mutual. Just in November before your final exams, your bosses graciously offered to help you study. You were studying from your self-made study guide over lunch with them in their office. You had five classes during your fall semester you had final exams for: four tests and one paper due the same week you took your tests.

“Well, I can tutor you for the tests,” Higuruma said, taking a peak at your guide. “Clearly, you need someone to break this shit down for you and test you.”

“And make sure you don’t completely blow your top over your grammar,” Nanami added, referring to your paper. “I was a 4.0 in Harvard, don’t you know?” As usual, you laughed. They always knew how to take your head out of your work with their teasing and dry humor.

That month, the three of you would meet during lunch and work. Higuruma would time you on definitions for legal terms, answering open-ended questions, and knowing which court does what. Nanami, in contrast, would take a look at your final paper and make alterations, highlighting anything that needed to be edited and giving suggestions.

It was the most help you got in your three years of law school. And unfortunately, it made you fall deeper for them. You weren’t even planning to attend the firm’s tenth anniversary party, but when you found out Higuruma and Nanami were attending through an invite to your work email, you knew you had to show up.

You smile at Yuki now, raising your champagne glass. “Well, cheers to that,” you giggle and clink your glass with hers. “You’re sweet, Yuki. Definitely makes this whole environment worth it.” The two of you giggle to each other and gossip about the other guests as you sip champagne and much on veggie sticks from the snack table.

At some point during your third glass, you hear a buzz come from your purse. Your heart skips a bit and you race to fish it out, thinkin that it may be Nanami or Higuruma texting you that they’ve finally arrived. But when you see that it’s your Canvas notification, your stomach drops.

Suddenly, the champagne tastes sour and all of the sounds of the party sound muffled like you’re underwater. All of your grades are in, including your final paper. You swallow hard as you stare at your phone screen, your vision becoming fuzzy. You feel like you’re about to faint. Oh, where are Nanami and Higuruma when you need them?

“…Y/N?” You turn to Yuki as if you just realized that she’s standing there. “Sorry, what?” You dumbly ask.

“They finally brought out the chocolate fountain!” She announces, pointing excitedly at the fountain bubbling chocolate fondue just a few feet away. “Let’s get some before we have to fight off the entire party.” You force a smile and wave her off, trying to hide your oncoming anxiety attack the best you can. “You go ahead. I need to powder my nose first.”

It’s enough to make Yuki agree, telling her that she’ll get you a plate. Once she’s strutting off in her heels, you make a beeline for the bathroom located down the hallway from the ballroom. You move as quickly as possible in your heels, scrolling for your friend’s contact at the same time. By the time you reach the bathroom, you feel like you’re about to throw up.

You barrel through the door, sighing in relief when you find it empty. Quickly, you shut the door and will your friend to answer the phone, gripping the sink for support. You feel as if your knees are about to buckle from the anxiety you feel bubbling inside of you. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you mutter. Finally, your friend does, coughing into the phone. “What’s up, babe?” she crokes out. “Did your lawyer baes come yet?”

“No, but my grades just came back and I’m in the bathroom so I don’t have a panic attack, but I am having a panic attack.” You face yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked so pretty with your Fenty Beauty foundation, plumping gloss, and long lashes framing your gold eyeshadow. But now? All you see is anxiousness.

“Okay, relax,” your bestie soothingly says. Only she knows the stress you’ve been under for three years. “Breathe. Tell yourself your affirmations. I already know you did amazing, Y/N. You already know that too. You studied your ass off, remember?”

You do. You had to. Only you have the power to make all three of these years of constant stress mean something. You need that degree. “Yeah,” you exhale before inhaling again. You do that a couple of times, egged on by your friend who tells you how smart and determined you are. Finally, you feel like you’re ready. “Here I go…I’m opening them now.”

You put the call on speaker, but your friend is silent as you shakily open the Canvas app. You check each one of your final grades, your heart damn near exploding one after the other. All high scores. Three As and one B. “Oh, my God,” you gasp.

“What?” your friend urges. “What’d you get?”

You nearly drop your phone as your body trembles from excitement and relief. “I passed,” you whisper. Then again, louder this time: “I passed!” you squeal. “I fucking passed!” You feel tears prick your eyes and you have to rapidly blink to keep from ruining your mascara.

You can’t believe it. You’re done! You’re going to graduate law school next spring! “Congratulations, girl!” your friend cheers. “I knew you could do it! Now go out there, turn the fuck up, and celebrate with your lawyer baes.”

You scoff, taking some tissue to tab at your cheeks and temple. “For the last time, they’re not my baes or boos or boyfriends.” She swears that Higuruma and Nanami are your future husbands. “Not yet!” she argues. “You just wait till they see you lookin’ fine as fuck in your dress and next thing you know, you’re going home with one of ‘em…or both!”

“Goodbye, you perv,” you giggle. “Thank you. I love you.” Your friend bids you farewell and tells you to text her later before you end the call. You take a moment to check yourself out in the mirror, admiring the bad bitch in your reflection.

Finally, you put your phone away and strut back to the party, feeling like you’re the sun and the moon. You feel sexy, exuberant, and like you’re on top of the fucking world. Nothing and nobody can get in your way.

You suddenly bump right into someone’s back, causing you to stumble. “Oh, excuse me!” you gasp. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Your words die in your throat when the stranger turns, revealing himself as your favorite handsome blonde attorney. Nanami is usually in suits for work, but this one is especially tailored. “Ms. L/N,” he says in his smooth, eargasmic voice. “I didn’t expect to bump into you so early tonight.”

You gape at him, unable to speak. You’re at a loss for words. Just then, before you can look any dumber, Higuruma appears with two champagne glasses in hand. He, too, is in a designer suit and red bottom shoes, looking so sexy that it should be illegal. “Oh, there you are. We were actually looking for you.”

His tired-looking brown eyes scale down your outfit. “That’s…some dress. You look nice.” Maybe you imagine it, but his cheeks look pinker in the light. Nanami clears his throat and awkwardly pushes up his framed glasses, snatching one glass from Higuruma and taking a sip.

”T-Thank you,” you stammer, finally finding your voice. You spot a passing waiter on your left with a tray and snatch a glass from it. You’ll need it. You clear your throat, conjuring that bad bitch from the bathroom. “U-Um, I’m actually glad you’re both here. I was looking for you too.”

The lawyers’ brows raise expectantly. “Oh?” Higuruma asks. “Why is that?” You break out into a smile, unable to contain your joy. “I got my grades back for my exams!” you excitedly announce. “All As and Bs!” You fish your phone out of your clutch and shove the screen into your bosses’ faces. “See for yourselves,” you proudly giggle.

Nanami takes your phone and peers down at it, squinting into the blue light. When he sees your grades, a slow smile creeps across his face that gives you butterflies. “Let me see,” Higuruma mumbles, snatching your phone from Nanami.

He mutters to himself, something he always does when reading. You find it so endearing. When he finishes, he scoffs in surprise. “Well, damn,” he huffs. “This is impressive, Y/N. You really locked in as the kids say these days.”

“You’re not that old, Higuruma,” Nanami scoffs, snatching your phone back and handing it to you. “Nice job, Ms. L/N. We’ll have to celebrate.” The two lawyers smile at you like you’re the best thing in the world. You feel it. Standing with them, you feel as if nothing can touch you.

Higuruma raises his glass, a small smile playing on his lips. “A toast to good grades and an even better future.” You all raise your glasses and clink them before taking a sip. You can already feel the effects of the champagne taking over. You feel bubbly and light as a feather. Beautiful and carefree. Sexy, even. Very dangerous.

“Thank you,” you happily sigh. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your help with the studying. I really appreciate you both for doing that.” The lawyers look happy hearing that kind of praise and gratitude from you. “Well, you can thank us by helping us make it through this party,” Higuruma sighs. “After all, we need to show our law school graduate around to all of these fine, fun folk.”

He looks around the room, looking like he’s thinking anything but nice things about the guests. You snort to yourself. “Don’t we, Nanami?” he asks, smirking at the blonde. Nanami sighs to himself, looking absolutely done with being here. “I barely even want to be here. I almost want to be back in traffic.”

He turns to you now, a small smile playing on his lips. “But hearing about your grades makes it worth it all.” If only he could know how that makes you feel. The butterflies in your stomach have gone haywire.

You swallow, feeling the confidence of the champagne taking over. “W-Well, maybe next spring when I graduate, you both can come to the ceremony,” you nervously suggest. “It’s only right since you’re my bosses and mentors.” You give them a shy smile, peering up at them through your lashes.

The two lawyers look at each other blankly and then back at you. “Mentors?” Higuruma parrots. “We’re your mentors?”

Immediately, your confidence slips. “Well, you did help me study and you’ve shown me so much about the legal system. I look up to the both of you.” You bite your bottom lip, feeling as if you’ve said too much. You’re moving too fast. You’re overdoing it! “I-I’m sorry I assumed—“

“Don’t apologize,” Nanami firmly interrupts. His eyes are all aglow with a quiet passion you’ve never seen before. “We’d be honored to be your mentors…if that’s what you want.” Higuruma looks just as interested in the position, looking ready to drop everything and sign up.

You feel a big, dumb smile split across your face, giddy and joyful. “Then I’d be honored to call you my mentors,” you giggle. “Let’s toast to that too!” You raise your glass to clink with theirs, leading to another joint sip. You open your mouth to say more, to keep them standing here with you, but everyone at the party is just as excited to see the two attorneys as you are.

“Oh, there they are!” someone announces. You turn, finding one of the firm’s oldest lawyers walking over to Nanami and Higuruma. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two! C’mon, the chairman wants to see you.” He practically drags them away, blabbering on about the many guests here who want to meet them.

You watch them leave just as they turn to give you one last look, an apology in their gazes. You feel an immense pang of disappointment inside of you and you feel stupid for feeling that way. It’s a party! This is their job! Of course, they need to mingle and talk to other important people.

Yuki luckily comes to your rescue, strutting over to you with more snacks. “Oh, Y/N!” she exclaims, taking your hand. “There you are! Come here, you have to try these white chocolate raspberry bars before they’re gone!” She drags you off in a different direction from Nanami and Higuruma, widening the gap between you.

For the next hour, the party wears on like this: you on your side and your bosses on the other, all of you stuck being pulled in directions other than each other’s. You watch as they chat with chairmen and CEOs; attorneys and paralegals; city officials and policemen. It’s honestly annoying…probably because of the champagne you drink.

With every passing minute, you sip a bit more, feeling even lighter and riskier than your first glass. You’re pretty sure you’re on about four ½ glasses at this point, so much so that you start seeing things. You believe you feel Nanami’s eyes on your ass from across the room or Higuruma’s gaze straying away from a guest to check you out. Your risky, reckless behavior makes you smile at them from across the party, not realizing how flirty it may come off to them or someone else watching. But the idea of that doesn’t embarrass or mortify you. In fact, it turns you on.

But nothing even comes from it. You never find your way over to your lawyers. Disappointed, sleepy, and exhausted from walking around in heels, you decide to give your dogs and the alcohol a break. You go up to the bar situated on the left hand side of the ballroom and take a seat on one of the stools, ordering a club soda.

“That’s the easiest thing I’ve made all night!” the bartender exclaims, making you laugh. “God bless you!” After they finish whipping up your drink, you’re in the middle of a few needed sips when someone sits next to you. You turn, finding a young man in a suit that looks like Tom Hiddlestone and Timothy Chatlane had a baby.

The wavy-haired man in his suit smiles at you. “Your Nanami and Higuruma’s paralegal, right?” he asks. You shake your head. “Intern. Not a paralegal…yet.”

He nods, chuckling at your humor. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around the office before. I would’ve remembered a face like yours.” His tone is flirtatious and you pick up on it immediately. Usually, you’d disregard and ignore this, but tonight? You may just play along.

“Possibly,” you reply, lowering your soda. “I have one of those faces.” Feeling particularly chatty, you put a hand out for a shake. “I’m Y/N,” you blurt. “I’m an intern for the law firm on the sixth floor.” The man races to shake your hand, hanging on for longer than necessary. His palm is sweaty. “Ah, yes, the law interns,” he chuckles. “I’m Mark, an associate for an accounting firm. I’m up on the eighth.”

He flashes a pearly white smile that is probably supposed to make you swoon. “That explains why we haven’t seen each other,” you giggle. He laughs with you and you decide that he’s cute enough to waste time on at the party.

“Maybe this party is good for something then,” he flirtatiously says, his smile turning suggestive. “I was plannin’ on leaving soon ‘cause this crowd is dead, but you just might make me wanna stay.” And just like that, he pops the bubble on your fantasy plan. “Oh” is all you can say.

No doubt he is trying to get into your pants…or rather under your dress. You turn to sip your water in silence, trying to think of something to say to let him down easy. “Are you here with someone?” he asks and his hand goes crawling to yours again.

Now you really need to think of something fast. “Um” is all you can get out before a shadow descends upon you and him. You both turn to find Nanami standing there. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting, Mark?” he asks. He sounds apologetic, but you can tell he isn’t by the firm set of his lips.

The attorney beside you gives your boss a lop-sided smile. “Just my drink,” he jokes as the bartender passes him a whiskey. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Nanami?” He cocks his head to the side, drunk and cocky. “Sorry to cut in, but I need to steal Y/N away for a moment,” Nanami explains before turning to you. “We hate to do this now, but since you’re here, we’d like to plan out the schedule ahead of the holidays.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, your brain already switching into work mode. “Um…yeah, sure, of course.” You turn to Mark who looks less than pleased about being cockblocked. “It was nice meeting you, Mark. I’ll see you on the seventh floor one day.” The attorney only gives you a smile and side-eyes Nanami as you leave with him.

In silence, you two head to the elevators and Nanami presses the up button. You aren’t too sure why he and Higuruma are doing this now during a party, but you’ll wait to find out. When the elevator comes, Nanami lets you inside first and then follows behind you. When the doors close, you become hyper aware of him standing so close next to you. You can smell his cologne—spicy and musky like cinnamon. It makes your body react in very nasty ways.

“You won’t be seeing him,” he says. You blink, your fuzzy brain almost not catching that. “What?” you ask.

He turns to you, his eyes firm. “You won’t be seeing him,” he repeats. “Not to gossip, but the man is known to stick his dick where he makes his business. He’s slept with half of his department and a lot of his clients.”

You almost forget who the hell he is talking about until you remember (of course!) Mark. “Damn,” you scoff. “Well, thank you for the save…not that I was planning on sleeping with him or anything. He’s not my type.” You immediately flush, hot with shame and embarrassment. You shouldn’t have said any of that. ‘Fuck that champagne,’ you think.

However, Nanami silently chuckles to himself, finding it funny. But still, you beat yourself up. At least until you get to your floor. Nanami and Higuruma share an office space, their offices separated by a door where one can easily enter one room and exit the other. Nanami’s office consists of tan furniture, a plush couch where you often do your work, and his book collection while Higuruma’s office is all dark colors, polished Mahogany wood, and a mini bar. Some things they do share though are private bathrooms, personal thermostats, and a beautiful view of the skyline.

You walk down the hallway to the office with Nanami and enter his, finding Higuruma already there. “Took you two long enough,” he grumbles. Nanami’s office is dark, only lit by the full moon coating the floor in silver and illuminating Higuruma’s manly, handsome features.

Suddenly, your heart begins to pound. “S-So where’s the schedule?” you stammer. Nanami shuts the door behind you and walks up to stand beside Higuruma. “There is no schedule,” he confesses. “Sorry to bring you up here so randomly, but we didn’t want to do this in front of everyone.”

You scowl, confused. “Do what?” you ask, looking between them. The two give each other a look before Higuruma provides you with an envelope from under his suit jacket. “To give you this.”

You stare at the envelope, even more confused. Tentatively, you take it and look at them, unsure. “Open it,” Higuruma silently says with his eyes. Swallowing hard, you take a millisecond to mentally prepare yourself for what will be in the envelope and tear it open like you would a bandaid.

A folded letter flutters to your feet and you pick it up to read it. “On behalf of [the firm] and the departments of business and financial law, we would like to offer you a full time position as a legal assistant in the spring of 2025. Signed…” Your eyes grow big at the signatures. “Kento Nanami and Hiyomi Higuruma,” you exhale.

The two handsome men standing before you smile while you’re busy trying to resist the urge to pinch yourself. You have to be dreaming! You’ve gotta be! “Y-You’re offering me a job?” you softly ask. Higuruma smirks. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

Nanami nudges his partner in the arm. “We’ve noticed the work you’ve been putting in for us all these twelve months. Don’t think your hard work went unappreciated, Y/N. You’ve helped us a lot, even without us telling you, and for that, this is what we have to offer.” His gaze is soft, intimate. “This is just to get your foot in the door. Of course, you don’t have to stay forever and we’ll help you study for the BAR if you want to take it.”

Higuruma doesn’t add on, but he doesn’t have to. He, too, gazes down at you like everything Nanami is saying is true. You look down at the letter and then back up at them. “I….I don’t know what to say.” Higuruma’s smirk widens. “Say you’ll take the job.”

Finally, you break into a humongous smile and you jump up and down. “Yes!” you squeal. “Yes, yes, I’ll take it! Thank you both so much!” You go to toss yourself at them for a hug, but you make one misstep and nearly trip. You gasp, trying to find your footing.

Quickly, Nanami hooks his arm around your midsection, securing you in his arms. “Careful!” he exclaims, catching you. “That would’ve been nasty.” You should just tell him thank you and leave the comfort of his arms. You should just take the L now and leave before things get bad.

But you don’t. You make the mistake of staring up into his inviting eyes and soft, pink lips. His eyes gaze down to your mouth, his pupils dilating as if he sees something he likes…wants even. He leans down and so do you, and suddenly your lips are on his as you stand in the comfort of his embrace.

The kiss is short and gentle, but it’s sweet enough to steal your breath away. It is a kiss fit for a Disney movie ending. But just as soon as it happens, it ends and you both pull away, stunned. “Whoa,” he exhales.

Yes, whoa. Whoa, that was the best kiss you’ve ever had. Whoa, you just kissed your boss. Immediately, you jump back as if burned and over your mouth. “Oh, God,” you gasp. “I-I’m so sorry. I…oh, God.” You begin to shake, your eyes welling with tears. Regret and shame instantly fill you.

Higuruma steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. Nanami tries to come near you too, his gaze soft. “Y/N,” he softly says. You quickly side-step him and step away from Higuruma’s touch. “I have to go,” you sob. “I can’t be here. I shouldn’t be here.” You begin to panic, dropping the job acceptance letter in the process. You don’t try to pick it up.

“Wait, Y/N,” Nanami pleads. “Stay. It’s okay.” He walks toward you like you’re a wounded animal, gingerly and slowly. “No, it’s not!” you whimper. “I can’t believe I did this! I’m gonna ruin everything now! I-I—“

A hand grasps yours and pulls you close into his big, warm body. “Sweetheart, calm down,” Nanami soothingly says. “It’s okay.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. There, you begin to cry, big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and ruining your makeup. “It’s okay,” Nanami murmurs into your ear.

At the sound of his voice, you look up into his eyes and see that they are hooded and soft. Affectionate. When he leans in again, you don’t pull away. You let him kiss you, slow and deep, your lips moving in perfect tandem with each other. It is almost as if your lips are meant to kiss. Nanami’s big hand cups your face, tilting your head slightly to the side to meld your mouths together, earning a soft moan out of you. His hands slide down to your ass, caressing the bump made underneath your dress from it.

From the back, you feel Higuruma presses himself against you, his big hands sliding across your naked lower back and shoulders. His touch electrifies you. So do his kisses. When he begins to kiss your neck and shoulders, you pull away from Nanami, gasping. “H-Hang on,” you stutter.

He stops, his hands still on you. Questions flare in his hooded, brown eyes. “Tell us what you want, Y/N,” he says, his voice strained. “Tell us to stop and we swear to God, we’ll stop.” Nanami pauses too, slight pants leaving his lips. You want to apologize, to tell them that this isn’t right or proper or appropriate to do. This is so, so wrong.

But as you stand here in the dark sandwiched between your bosses, you’ve also never felt more right. “Keep going,” you softly beg. The lawyers descend upon you immediately, kissing, touching, and grinding their hips into you. You feel their hardened cocks press against your groin and your ass, giving you a taste of how you’re making them feel…and have made them feel for months now.

“We wanted this for so long,” Higuruma whispers into your neck. “You have no fuckin’ idea, Y/N.” His thick lips press down your spine, peppering your skin in wet kisses. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to pull your ass aside and do this to you.”

“So many times,” Nanami growls, his hands sliding up to your hips to indulge in them. “You make it so hard to control myself, darling.” You’re feeling the last of your self-control slipping, the pleasure too much to handle. You moan at every touch and kiss, loving that you can feel their defined muscles through their suits.

“Take it off,” you whisper and motion to your dress. The lawyers share a surprised look with each other that quickly melts into lust and need. “You tell us if you want us to stop, you understand?” Higuruma sternly asks. You nod, but that isn’t enough. “Words,” he states. “Give me your words. Speak up.”

Your nipples harden at his firm tone, loving how he puts you so effortlessly in your place. “Yes, sir,” you reply, the words feeling so natural to you. Higuruma sharply inhales, greatly affected by this. He quickly snatches one string out of the perfectly-tied knot at your neck, loosening your dress in one single act. The front slips off of you, revealing your hardened brown nipples and ass only covered by a black thong.

“Shit,” Nanami exhales while Higuruma chuckles. “So that’s why that ass looked so good tonight,” he murmurs, taking a handful of it for himself. “You should be forbidden from wearin’ dresses and pencil skirts around us, y’know. You make it very hard to concentrate on much.”

One of his big hands glides down your asscheeks to slide between your inner thighs. “But you know that, don’t you?” he whispers. His thick fingers slide against the wet cloth of your thong while Nanami feasts on your tits, molding and massaging them while his lips coat your nipples in saliva. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, tilting your head back at their ministrations.

“Naughty little thing,” Higuruma tuts, still rubbing you. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. You must’ve needed this from us, hm?” He presses his fingers up, rubbing your clit in circular motions. Your moans grow louder, leading Nanami to capture them with his mouth.

“You need to quiet down, baby,” Higuruma says, humored. “You’ll have the entire party comin’ up to see why our good little intern is makin’ so much noise.” Nanami pulls away to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I bet she wants that,” he whispers. “Bet she wants everyone to know what she’s doing to us.”

“I’m sure they do,” Higuruma chuckles. “This ain’t the first time we’ve walked around the office hard as rocks for her.” He rubs you a little harder, making you bite your lip at the sensations. Jealous, Nanami glares at his partner. “That’s enough, Hiromi,” he growls. “You need to share. You’re not the only one here.”

Higuruma glares back, but allows the blonde to take over. You watch with shaky breath as Nanami slowly kneels down, staring up at you as he does. “I wanna taste you,” he confesses. “I wanna make you feel good. Will you let me?” Delirious from the foreplay, you nod and in an instant, your leg is hiked over his shoulder and he is sloppily French kissing your pussy.

“Now look who’s bein’ fuckin’ greedy,” Higuruma growls, impatient. “I need a taste too. Scoot over.” “We’re both gonna tongue fuck that pussy now,” he whispers. “When you need to cum, you let yourself do it, got it?”

Once again, you gush at the tone of his voice, much to Nanami’s enjoyment. “Y-Yes, sir,” you whimper. Then all words cease to exist when Higuruma kneels behind you. For the next couple of minutes, your world is blinded by pleasure as you receive dual cunnilingus from your two bosses. “Oh, shiiiit!” you groan, grasping Nanami’s head and Higuruma’s hand on your hip just to hold onto something.

You feel as if you’re on a rollercoaster, getting pulled this way and that, your stomach fluttering from the bumpy ride and the rush. Your stomach flutters and your heart pounds with every grip of Higuruma’s hands on your ass holding you steady; every lap of Nanami’s tongue against your clit. Higuruma is busy sliding his tongue along your slit, his nose rubbing against your ass…which feels oddly good too!

Everything they do feels good. Your juices and their spit collide, mixing together and making everything way more stimulating and sensitive than normal. You grip Nanami’s blonde hair, pushing him closer to your clit, your breathing coming out in huffs. You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more your lawyers lick, lap, and suck at your sloppy, juicy little pussy, drinking away as if they’re both starving for you.

You don’t realize how loud you are until you hear yourself moaning throughout the empty office. “O-Oh, fuck!” you wail. “I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me—“

“Wait,” Higuruma hisses, suddenly shooting a hand up to cover your mouth. He stands up so fast that he scares the shit out of you, almost as if he teleported. “I hear footsteps.” Your heart explodes in your chest and Nanami immediately stops his pussy-eating to listen too.

There, outside in the hallway, you hear footsteps and muffled laughter. Neither one of you moves or even breathes, standing still as statues in the dark. Luckily, the voices and footsteps disappear when a door opens and closes, leaving you in silence once more. Higuruma looks down at Nanami, still shaken but also very horn. “Let’s get her on the desk,” he suggests, his gaze lustful. “She needs somethin’ for that mouth if she won’t shut the fuck up.”

A smile that you’ve never seen before grows on Nanami’s face, his glasses foggy and nearly falling off of his face. Quickly, he stands and scoops you up without a word, wrapping your legs around his waist. You squeak as you’re picked up, your heels dangling from around his hips. He is fast transporting you from the floor to the desk that is luckily free of any files or papers.

Nanami places you on his desk and takes off his glasses before proceeding to duck between your thighs. As he begins lapping at your cunt again, Higuruma comes over to your side, his groin at eye level. Ziiiiip goes his fly and out comes his big, thick, hard cock. Your body and pussy throb at the sight of him.

He stares down at you, lustful and demanding. “Open your mouth for me, baby,” he demands, taking off his suit jacket. “Put those pretty lips on me.” He rapidly begins uncuffing his sleeves and unbuttoning his top, revealing his mouthwateringly broad, hairy chest you want to nuzzle. You do as he says and wrap a hand around him to stroke him as you wrap your lips around his shaft.

Higuruma smiles…and he barely does that, so you must be doing a good job. “That’s it,” he groans. “Such a fuckin’ slut for me.” He wraps a hand in your hair and pulls you closer as he uses his other hand to pull his pants down farther, exposing his firm, plump ass. You become handsy, using one hand to feel up his body and delicious happy trail while you use the other to run your fingers through Nanami’s blonde locks.

You feel like a princess and a slut all at once, receiving the best of both worlds. Finally, that urge to release comes again and you whimper and slobber all over Higuruma’s cock as you get close. “Cum for me, darling,” Nanami groans into your pussy. “Do as you’re told. Cum all over my fuckin’ face right now.”

With a high-pitched squeal, you do, leaking and creaming all over Nanami’s tongue. He greedily laps you up as you write and shake on his desk, much to Higuruma’s enjoyment. He loves watching you ride out your orgasm with his dick in your luscious mouth, but fuck, is he jealous watching Nanami eat you out. “Don’t be greedy, Nanami,” he growls. “Give me some.”

Nanami rises from between your thighs, his hair a mess and his lips coated in you. Higuruma grabs him from the back of his neck and smashes their lips together. Right in front of you. You gape at them, shook and totally confused as they sloppily kiss, swapping spit and your cum between their mouths.

You had no idea they had a “thing” going on, but then again, you wouldn’t think you’d know. Nanami and Higuruma are very private people. But shit, is it hot to see them make out in front of you for only your eyes only.

When they pull away, Higuruma smirks down at you. “Look at this naughty girl gettin’ off to us,” he snorts. “You won’t go tellin’ people about us, right, baby?” You shake your head as best as you can with his cock still sliding in and out of your mouth, making him groan at the vibrations.

Nanami watches, quickly stripping off his jacket and shirt to expose his beautiful muscles and chest pebbled in fine, blonde hair. “I can’t fuckin’ take much more,” he huffs. “I need to fuck you now or I’ll lose my mind.” He begins toying with your tits, massaging one while Higuruma plays with the other. “Tell me you want that too. Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

Higuruma pinches one of your nipples, causing your mouth to open wide on a gasp and his big cock to slip out. “Need you,” you gasp out. “Both of you. I don’t care how! Please just fuck me!” You’ve never been so fucking horny in your life. You feel as if you’ll die if you don’t cum again now.

The two lawyers look at each other, both contemplating how to maneuver this as if you’re a case they can’t quite figure out how to win. “You go first,” Higuruma suggests. “I wanna fuck her throat a little more.” Nanami doesn’t need to be told twice, his eyes molten with lust. “Bend over,” he demands and you do, assuming the position.

The two groan at the sight of your plump ass exposed over Nanami’s desk, your heels still on. They both give your ass an open-palmed smack, making you gasp at the pleasurable sting. “So good at taking orders,” Nanami murmurs in your ear. “I like that. That’s what good girls do.” He gives your cheek a peck before finally, he slides his cock against your pussy and slowly slides himself inside of you.

You both gasp at the sensations, your pussy walls squeezing around him as they become accommodated to his size. He is thick and long, making you feel so full and so stretched. Nanami murmurs sweet nothings in your ear as he coaxes you to rub your clit, making you wetter. Once you’re finally relaxed is when he proceeds to grab your hips and fuck your shit up.

His desk shakes slightly as he pistons into you, his hips slamming into your ass, causing the sound of skin slapping against skin to echo throughout the room. Your moans and cries are loud and clear, possibly audible even to the party. “Fuck!” you loudly moan. “Oh, my God, yes!”

Another cock slaps against your mouth and slides in, not stopping until it is in your throat. “Uh-uh, baby,” Higuruma chuckles. “Too loud. Little slut just can’t help herself, can she, Nanami?” His partner is too busy ramming your cunt to answer, doing his best to hold back his moans and gasps.

Higuruma snorts. “Neither can you, apparently.” Nanami glares at him, silently telling him to fuck off as he presses his front into your back, pushing himself deeper. “Push back on me, darling. Fuck me back.” You do as he orders, tossing your ass back into him and pushing yourself farther onto his wonderful cock. “Good girl!” he moans. “Needed this for so long. Needed you so bad.”

He murmurs and babbles into your shoulder, suckling on it as he pounds into your wet heat over and over again. It doesn’t take you long for you to feel the urge to cum again as Nanami’s balls slap against your needy clit, stimulating you further. “M’cwumming!” you whine around Higuruma’s cock just as that second intense wave washes over you.

“Good girl,” Nanami grunts, holding your shaking body close as your pussy walls grip and stroke him. “Such a good, good girl for me.” He slows his pace but continues to fuck you, edging you and making your orgasm last even longer. Your head feels dizzy and your thighs are slick with cum, but they’re not done yet.

“Let’s switch,” Nanami tells Higuruma. “I need to feel her mouth.” Higuruma looks ready to fuck a hole in a wall with the wild look he has in his eyes. They slowly pull out of you and switch spots, Higuruma now behind you while Nanami is in front. Just as quickly as they switched, they slide back into your holes again.

“Shit, baby,” Higuruma hisses, gripping your hips in his big, calloused hands. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. I can get so deep.” His hand wraps around your throat while Nanami fucks it, groaning at its tightness. “You want it deeper, don’t you?” he teasingly asks. “You want me to fuck this pussy till it cums again?”

“Mmm-hmm!” you desperately whine. Nothing sounds better to you right now. You are drunk off of the pleasure and these two sexy men, needing their cocks and cum like you need air to breathe.

The two begin to fuck you in tandem with each other, one pulling out while the other pushes in, filling up one of your holes. You have never loved being used before, feeling like an office slut for them. Maybe this can be one of your duties—sucking and fucking them when they are stressed at work. Wouldn’t that be so nice? Your body certainly thinks so.

Higuruma’s heavy balls slap against your clit as he pistons into you, making the desk shake. “Fuck, baby!”he grunts. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.” Nanami lets out an agreeable moan, fucking your throat. “M-Me too,” he stammers. “You’re gonna be our good little assistant and take our cum for us, darling?”

Before you can even think about answering or trying to, you hear something. Knock, knock, knock. “Um…Mr. Higuruma?” someone calls outside the door. “Mr. Nanamin, are you in there? It’s Itadori!” Instantly, the two lawyers grow still and anxiety pushes your hormones out the door.

“Shit!” Higuruma hisses. He clears his throat, doing his best to sound like he wasn’t just pumping you full of his cock. “Y-Yes, we’re in here,” he calls. “Do you need something, Itadori?”

Yuji Itadori is by far one of the cutest and sweetest interns in the firm, so you don’t feel too angry about being interrupted. Just extremely sexually frustrated. “One of the lawyers sent me up here to fetch you,” Itadori explains. “They’re about to start the anniversary speech in about fifteen minutes!”

Slowly, Higuruma and Nanami begin to fuck you again, moving tortuously slow. You can feel yourself growing closer to orgasm and do your best to keep quiet, glad to have something in your mouth. “We’ll be down soon,” Nanami replies. “Thank you, Itadori.”

“You betcha!” Itadori chirps. “Oh, and if you see Y/N, tell her that the cake is out! I saved her a slice!” Then off he goes, his footsteps disappearing down the hall and the ding of the elevator slicing through the silence. Once he’s gone, you all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Now then,” Higuruma growls, “let’s make this little slut cum before we get caught.”

Your bosses make do with the time they have and fill your holes with each vigorous, pounding thrust that makes both your mouth and pussy salivate. The office is filled with the sounds of your hushed moans, creaky desk legs, and the light slapping of skin as Higuruma fucks and fucks and fucks your pussy like a machine.

When he finally feels you squeezing around him, he slides one hand down between you to rub your clit. “Cum for me,” he urges you. “Give it to me, baby. Cum on that dick now.”

Maybe it’s the way he talks you through it or how Nanami sounds fucking your face or the fact that you’re on a time crunch, but the third orgasm quickly crashes down onto you as despite its slow buildup. It is just as tense as the first two, making you whine around Nanami’s cock as your cunt massages and strokes Higuruma off.

“Fuck!” he grunts. “I’m about to cum too. Where you want it, baby? Tell me now before I make the decision for you.”

“O-On me!” you gasp out, still in the throes of your orgasm. “Do it on me! Anywhere you want!”

Quickly, Higuruma pulls his cock, sobbing wet with your cum, out of you while Nanami ruts into your mouth, chasing his orgasm. Their sexy, deep moans and grunts of release fill the air as each hot load of cum coats your ass and your tongue.

You shudder and deliriously giggle as they cum, feeling all of that pleasure and the high from your orgasm collide. As your orgasms pass, you three pant and huff in the darkness, recovering from the activity.

Clearing his throat, Nanami pulls out of your mouth, allowing you to swallow his load. Meanwhile, Higuruma takes some tissues from the desk and sops up his cum up from your ass. Though it is sweet, it is also very, very awkward. ‘Of course, it is, you slut!’ you critically think. ‘You just fucked your fucking bosses!’

Once Higuruma finishes, he tosses the tissues away and steps away to allow you to freely move. You stay laid across the desk, not wanting to look up and see the regret in their eyes. You clear your throat, trying to ease the awkward tension. “Well, that’s one way to celebrate a job offer,” you breathlessly say.

It works. The two lawyers begin to laugh, their deep, rumbling chuckles appealing to your ear. Finally, you look up and find them smiling. “Yes, it is,” Nanami chuckles, eyes and cheeks aglow. “You were amazing, darling.” His pet name and the praise makes your stomach flutter like a school girl’s when she sees her crush.

“Hope you don’t go givin’ that to any other employer in your future,” Higuruma chuckles, his body and forehead glistening in sweat. Your eyes drink in his body, committing his and Nanami’s to memory.

Your stomach flips, glad to see that things aren’t awkward or weird anymore. You move to sit up on Nanami’s desk, facing both of your bosses. “Oh, trust me…I won’t. I doubt I’d have any employers as sexy as you two.” You stare up at them through your lashes, earning two sweet kisses on the lips in response as if they are your boyfriends. Not your bosses.

”The feeling is mutual,” Higuruma sighs. “You have no idea how long we’ve wanted to do that with you.” Nanami hums in response, gently moving a strand of hair behind your ear, but it’s really just an excuse to touch you. Despite the tenderness, you can’t keep denying the pink elephant in the room. “So…what now?” you ask.

The two lawyers stare at you blankly, obviously not quite getting what you mean. Higuruma laughs, already buttoning up his shirt. “Well, if you mean in the present tense, I suggest we all get cleaned up and go back to the party before someone comes lookin’ for us again.”

Nanami pulls his pants up, fastening his belt. You watch, doing your best to swallow that lump in your throat. That isn’t what you meant….but what else could you mean? Surely, you don’t think this can be anything real or official. Friends with benefits or fuck buddies, sure. But actually dating your bosses? Your employers and mentors? That would be a tale for the entire firm to gossip about.

So you hang your tail between your legs and push away your disappointment. “Oh…yes, of course,” you softly say. “We definitely should. Uh…can one of you help me with my dress?”

You stand and turn around for Nanami to help you tie your dress behind your neck. You do the rest, hiding your face from them as it flushes with embarrassment. You don’t want them to see you cry if you do. You can’t tell what you’ll do off of the Brüte champagne. After you finish dressing and checking your hair to make sure it doesn’t look too suspicious, the lawyers first check the hall to see if it’s empty.

Then they lead you down the hall to the elevator. None of you speak. The air is tense again with silence and your shoes clicking across the floor, the gravity of your decision swirling in the air like cigarette smoke. Pungent, heady, and inescapable. You feel regretful of your decision immediately despite how good and right it felt in the moment. You wouldn’t be surprised if Higuruma and Nanami revoked the job offer tomorrow morning.

You press the elevator button and the box luckily comes pretty quick. The lawyers let you in first before moving in behind you. Higuruma presses the button to the lobby and the doors close. Now in close proximity to them again, you’re aware of both men standing on either side of you, facing ahead. You clutch your purse to your stomach, biting your lip to avoid blurting something dumb.

“If you meant “what now” as in what about us, I hope you realize that this isn’t just a fling for us,” Higuruma says, his deep voice filling the tight space. “It can be if you want it to be, but if you’d like this to be more official, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” Your mouth falls agap as you gape at him. He stares back, his eyes intense and unmoving.

“Me either,” Nanami adds. “Excuse my language and call me a selfish motherfucker, but I can’t say the idea of seeing you with another man other than my partner doesn’t tick me off.” His fingers dance across your lower back, giving you shivers. Delicious shivers that only grow as the fact of the matter processes in your mind: this is real now.

Better say this now than never then. You slowly take their hands in both of yours, your heart stuttering. “I’d like that too,” you shyly admit. “But maybe we can keep this on the low for now? Just until I start my new job, at least.”

Ding the elevator goes as you finally arrive to the lobby. Nanami smiles, running his thumb along your knuckles. “If that’s what you want, Ms. L/N,” he teases. “See you after the speech.” Higuruma gives your hand a squeeze before he releases it and fixes his tie just as the doors open onto the lobby.

As you walk out of the elevator, you feel two hands open-palm smack you against your ass. You squeak, hiding your smile as the two lawyers stride away to the stage entrance to the ballroom as if nothing happened.

You take another entrance, walking through the one that cuts into the middle of the ballroom. You immediately find your intern group standing by the stage waiting for the speech to begin and strut over to them, unable to keep your hips from swaying. It is as if your lawyers amped your confidence up to about one hundred.

Yuki turns to you, a slice of cake in her hand. “There you are!” she announces. “Look, Yuji’s cute ass left you some cake! Where the hell have you been?”

You give her a smile and take the plate from her, needing something sweet to end your night off right. “I just got a job offer.”

THE END.

[mercillery]

REQUEST: Do you think you can do the request for the reader who was a villain in the entire superhero world who somehow gets transported into one piece world and meet yandere Shanks? I like to imagine the reader acting naturally mischievous, just like Jinx from Arcane, although she only did it for fun and to survive for some reason.

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: I really hope I did this right because I have NOT been on my A game lately 😭

Your arrival in the One Piece world is less of a graceful entrance and more of an explosion—literally.

One moment, you’re minding your own business, and the next, you’re plummeting from the sky like some demented shooting star, limbs flailing and curses flying. You crash into the middle of a bustling port town, sending crates, seagulls, and the occasional unlucky bystander scattering in all directions. The dust settles, and there you are, standing in a crater of your own making, grinning like you meant to do that all along.

Welcome to the Grand Line, where logic checks out and chaos clocks in.

The marines stare at you with the wide-eyed horror usually reserved for sea kings or Luffy’s buffet bill. Pirates gawk, unsure whether to laugh, run, or offer you a drink.

You give them your signature sharp, mischievous grin—one part charm, two parts “I’m going to ruin your day,” and an extra sprinkle of “just try me.” Confusion ripples through the crowd like a wave. You bask in it, your energy crackling and boundless, a living storm wrapped in human skin.

The local pirate crew, tough guys with a collective IQ rivaling a bag of rocks, size you up and make the classic mistake: they think you’re just some eccentric with a flair for drama.

That’s when you move. Before they can blink, you’ve turned their leader’s sword into a modern art installation, shoved two marines into a barrel labeled “Pickled Fish Heads,” and balanced a seagull on your shoulder for dramatic effect. Panic and hilarity ensue.

Word travels fast on the high seas, and it doesn’t take long for whispers of your chaos to reach ears in the highest (and lowest) places. The World Government adds your name to their ever-growing list of headaches, filed under “urgent” and “why do we even bother?” You’re not just a problem—you’re a full-scale diplomatic incident wrapped in a smirk and delivered with a bow. Basically, you’re a concern now.

But it’s not just the marines who take notice. Somewhere far off, a certain red-haired pirate lifts an eyebrow. “Looks like there’s a new wild card in the deck,” Shanks mutters, eyes glinting with that mix of amusement and intrigue. Congratulations, you’ve officially caught the attention of the world’s most unpredictable forces. This is where his obsession with you begins.

At first, Shanks is amused—entertained, even—by the novelty you bring to the seas. Honestly, who wouldn't be? The way you breeze through confrontations with the grace of a tornado and the subtlety of a sledgehammer piques his interest.

Watching you dismantle the strongest foes, evade the deadliest traps, and still manage to smile through it all is like watching a firework show that never ends—bright, unpredictable, and dangerously beautiful.

But Shanks isn’t some easily impressed fool. No, he’s smarter than that. He doesn’t just enjoy the show and move on. No, his amusement slowly morphs into something deeper. Something more…obsessive. You don’t just break rules—you make your own. And that, my friend, gets under his skin in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

It’s not just the chaos you bring to the table, but the fact that you seem to slip through danger with such ease. You take risks like you’re daring the world to stop you, and yet—you never get caught.

Shanks, being the perceptive captain he is, knows there’s something behind that. There’s a fire in you, sure, but there’s also something more—a certain… darkness? A guardedness that doesn’t show on the surface but flickers in your eyes every time someone gets too close.

Oh, he notices that. You laugh and joke with everyone around you, your antics a constant stream of unexpected, glorious chaos, but when it’s just you—when the spotlight’s not on you, when you're not performing for an audience—you’re different.

Your smile tightens, sharp as a blade, more of a dare than an invitation. It’s like a challenge in disguise, one that says, If you want something from me, you better be prepared for the cost. Shanks watches, fascinated, as you put on this show of being carefree and invincible, but underneath all the madness, you’re calculating. You’re always thinking, always a step ahead.

It’s obvious you don’t trust anyone, not completely, and Shanks? Well, Shanks doesn’t push too hard. Not yet, anyway.

He’s intrigued, yes. But he’s not stupid. He knows better than to charge in like some lovesick fool. You? You’re unpredictable, like a live wire just waiting to snap. He doesn’t want to get too close too fast, doesn’t want to make you feel cornered or raise an eyebrow at him.

And besides, that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Watching from a distance, observing your every move, figuring out what makes you tick. The dance between curiosity and caution. Where did you come from? Who are you, really? How do you work? What makes someone like you—so erratic, so full of life—tick? Is it just instinct? A desire to keep the chaos alive? Or is there more to you than meets the eye?

And so, he watches. He watches the way you challenge the strongest and most fearsome foes like it’s nothing more than a Tuesday morning. He watches the way you smile at danger, never afraid of it, never running from it—just wading through it like you were born for it.

And more than anything, he watches the way you handle yourself when the storm clears, when you’re alone in the aftermath of all your destruction. In short, his intrigue starts with hearing about you, then turns into obsession when he finally sees you in action. Shanks is no stranger to dangerous things. And you, my dear, are dangerous—albeit in the best way possible.

Eventually, after admiring you from the shadows for so long, he decides to approach you. He does it in the most Shanks-like way possible: a mix of casual charm and reckless abandon. He’s not one for grand entrances; no crashing through walls or dramatic monologues here. No, he’s more of a “show up when you least expect it, but somehow it feels like he’s been there all along” type.

Picture this: you’re lounging somewhere high up—because heights are fun and gravity is just a suggestion when you’re you. Maybe you’re perched on a crooked rooftop, legs dangling dangerously over the edge as you tinker with a small gadget you found in some unsuspecting marine’s coat pocket. It’s a ticking contraption that probably shouldn’t be ticking, but that’s half the fun, isn’t it? The town below is bustling, oblivious to the chaos brewing in your hands. A seagull eyes you warily, as if it’s considering retirement if you stick around any longer.

That’s when he makes his move.

Shanks approaches you the way a cat would approach a bird—slow, steady, and with a smirk that suggests he already knows how this will end. He makes his presence known before he gets too close, humming some sea shanty that’s off-key enough to be endearing but not so bad that you’d throw your shoe at him.

He’s got his signature grin in place, the kind that says I’m here for a good time and maybe a headache or two. The townspeople below don’t even bat an eye; they’re too busy trying to remember if they left their windows locked the last time you strolled by.

Now, Shanks isn’t trying to startle you. He’s smarter than that—he’s seen what happens to those who catch you off guard. One minute, they’re standing proud, and the next, they’re tied up in some sort of human pretzel that makes them reconsider all their life choices.

No, he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever improvised booby trap you have up your sleeve today. So, once he’s within sight, he makes sure to announce himself, arms spread wide as if to say, Look! No hidden swords, no sudden moves. Just me and my questionable sense of judgment.

“Am I interrupting, or is this a bad time to mention that thing’s probably set to explode?” He quips, eyes twinkling with amusement. Of course, he’s not really worried—it’s Shanks. The man’s faced off against warlords and monsters that would send most pirates running home to their mothers, so a mischievous villain with a penchant for mayhem? That’s practically a vacation.

You arch a brow, glancing from him to the gadget that’s still ticking away. It’s almost funny—the most wanted man on the seas is standing there, grinning at you like he’s just wandered into a tavern and found the last seat at the bar.

Shanks knows he’s playing a risky game, approaching you unarmed and unafraid. But then again, that’s exactly the kind of gamble he loves. He’s betting that the spark of curiosity in your eyes will outweigh whatever impulse tells you to turn this meeting into a test of reflexes. And let’s be honest: he’s not wrong.

You tilt your head, the corners of your mouth quirking up just enough to let him know you’re intrigued—but not enough to let him off the hook. What’s his angle? Why is one of the most infamous pirates in the world standing here, acting like he’s just interrupted a casual hobby and not a potentially catastrophic experiment?

It’s not lost on you that most would run in the opposite direction at the mere sight of you tinkering with something potentially explosive. But this man? This ridiculous, audacious, red-haired captain? He’s leaning in, all while wearing that grin that’s one part roguish and two parts I’m absolutely going to regret this later. And somehow, that’s exactly what makes him fascinating.

At first, it’s almost funny. Because after that he’ll just start popping up out of nowhere, leaning casually against a market stall or sipping a drink at some rowdy tavern you’re sure he has no business being in.

He always wears that same knowing smile, as if the universe itself just happens to love playing matchmaker with you two. “Crazy running into you here,” he’ll say, voice laced with that lazy, deep amusement that makes you want to both smirk and roll your eyes. Crazy? Please. The only thing crazier is how often he’s finding you in the middle of your next big scheme.

But soon, the pattern becomes unmistakable. It doesn’t matter where you go—a sleepy fishing village where you may or may not have set a few docks on fire for fun, or a dense jungle where you’re sure no one could possibly find you while you scout for mischief—there he is.

Always at the perfect time, always with that lopsided grin and a sparkle in his eye that says he’s loving every second of it. It’s uncanny, really. The man’s supposed to be one of the most powerful pirates alive, yet here he is, spending an absurd amount of time just “accidentally” running into you.

And oh, how it gets under your skin. Because whether you’re raiding a marine base disguised as a disheveled merchant or setting up a prank involving way too much gunpowder and a seagull with questionable morals, there he is—unfazed and curious, with that maddening, calm presence of his.

He’s not just watching; he’s studying you, savoring every moment like you’re the best show on the high seas. Sure, anyone else would be calling for backup or running for cover, but not him. No, he’s the fool standing in the eye of the storm, watching with the kind of exhilarated wonder usually reserved for treasure hunts or legendary battles.

You, on the other hand, start to notice his little game. The “oincidences” pile up until they’re as obvious as a sea king at a beach party. You’re torn between annoyance and amusement. It’s flattering, in a way.

After all, it’s not every day that someone like Shanks, with all his charm and laid-back swagger, goes out of his way to stalk—sorry, coincidentally encounter—someone as unpredictable as you.

But it’s also infuriating. Who does he think he is, trying to turn the tables on you? You’re the master of chaos, the orchestrator of mayhem, and here he is, making you feel like you’re the one caught in some elaborate game.

Still, you try to outwit him. You switch up your routines, veer off into the most uncharted, unpredictable places, places so remote even the mapmakers just gave up and doodled sea monsters instead. You lay low, stir up trouble in places you’re sure won’t make it back to any pirate worth their salt. But somehow, some way, there he is.

Maybe he’s helping himself to an ale at the dingiest bar you could find, or maybe he’s leaning against a tree in the middle of nowhere, one hand on his sword and a smirk that practically screams, You didn’t really think I’d let you get away that easily, did you?

And if you try to push him away, that just won’t work. If anything, he’s more enchanted. Because to Shanks, every glitter bomb, every prank, every trick you pull is just another piece of the puzzle, another reason to be fascinated by you.

And somewhere between dodging your traps and trying not to laugh himself to death, he realizes he’s not just amused anymore—he’s head-over-heels, completely gone, the kind of infatuation that doesn’t end with simple fascination but with something much deeper. The man who could laugh off an admiral’s challenge now finds himself more captivated by you than any battle or bounty could ever make him.

Shanks’ affection sneaks in slowly, like a storm building on the horizon—quiet at first, but impossible to ignore once it hits. It starts as something harmless: an extra drink sent your way when you’re raising hell in a tavern, a knowing smirk as he casually keeps one hand on his sword when a fight breaks out.

But then it grows.

He starts hovering—not in an obvious, clingy way, but enough that it feels like he’s always a step behind you. Whether you’re flipping off marines or turning another pirate’s ship into a makeshift fireworks display, he’s there. Watching. Always watching.

And for someone who’s supposed to be laid-back, Shanks sure has a knack for snapping to attention whenever you’re around. His laugh gets a little tighter when someone brings up your antics, like he’s torn between pride and worry.

His crewmates don’t miss a thing, of course, but they keep their mouths shut. They know better than to tease their captain about the gleam in his eye whenever you come up in conversation—or the way his fingers tap restlessly on the table when he hasn’t “accidentally” bumped into you in a while.

It’s funny, really. Shanks is a Yonko, one of the most feared men in the world, and yet here he is, acting like a lovesick teenager. And the best part? He thinks he’s hiding it. He’s still doing his whole carefree routine, leaning against doorframes and cracking jokes like he doesn’t have an entire fleet of informants feeding him your every move.

But the shift is there, subtle but undeniable. His usual nonchalant swagger stiffens just a bit when another pirate crew gets too close to you, his grin falters for half a second when someone else makes you laugh, and his voice drops into something darker, something more dangerous, when he tells you, “Stay where I can see you.”

Oh, and let’s not forget the moment you decide to respond in the most you way possible. Because if Shanks is going to try to rein in your chaos, you’re going to remind him exactly who he’s dealing with.

Maybe you flash him your sharpest grin, the kind that screams I dare you. Or maybe you immediately do the opposite of what he asked, vanishing into the crowd like a puff of smoke just to see how fast he’ll find you again. (Spoiler alert: it’s fast. Too fast, honestly. How does he keep doing that?)

Or maybe you just pull one of your classic stunts—a grenade-like gadget tossed high into the air with a wild laugh, sending nearby pirates scrambling for cover while you pirouette out of harm’s way. The chaos doesn’t faze you; it’s your natural state.

Shanks, on the other hand? He doesn’t even flinch. He just stands there, arms crossed, watching you with that maddening mix of amusement and exasperation, like a parent watching their kid lick a lightning rod during a storm. Sure, he’s smiling, but there’s a tightness to it, a barely-contained edge that says, You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?

But that’s the thing about Shanks—he’s not angry. No, he’s enchanted. You’re a hurricane in human form, and he doesn’t want to tame you. He just wants to keep you safe. And that’s the part that messes him up the most: you don’t need him to protect you. You’ve been surviving on your own for years. You don’t need Shanks. But oh, does he need you.

And the more he watches you dance on the edge of chaos, the deeper he falls. He sees the way you laugh in the face of danger, the way you challenge anyone and everyone with that gleam in your eye, like you’ve got nothing to lose. But he also sees the cracks, the moments when your guard slips and the weight of your past sneaks through.

And those moments? They hit him harder than any punch ever could. Because for all your chaos, all your wild unpredictability, he knows there’s a part of you that’s still searching—for what, he’s not sure. Safety? Belonging? Something else entirely? Whatever it is, Shanks wants to be the one to give it to you.

But he’s careful. Oh, he’s so careful. He can’t let you see just how deep this obsession goes—not yet. He keeps his grin wide, his tone light, his demeanor easygoing. But every time you pull one of your stunts, every time you put yourself in danger just for the thrill of it, his heart clenches.

And when someone else gets too close, when they so much as look at you the wrong way, that laid-back facade cracks, just for a second. Because Shanks may be calm, may be collected, but when it comes to you? He’s a man on the edge. And you? You’re still playing your own game, dancing circles around everyone who tries to keep up.

Let’s skip to maybe a few months or so: It’s one of those rare, quiet moments—well, as quiet as things get with you around. Maybe you’re perched precariously on a ledge, fiddling with some contraption made from salvaged parts that you swiped from a marine ship, casually ignoring the fact that the thing looks like it’s one wrong wire away from detonating in your hands. Shanks is nearby, sitting cross-legged on a crate, his hat tipped back and his arms resting on his knees, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. And honestly, you are.

That’s when you drop it. Completely unprompted, of course, because why would you bother easing him into it? One second you’re talking about how annoying it is that the marines keep sticking Wanted posters of you up in towns you haven’t even been to yet, and the next, you’re casually saying, “Oh yeah, by the way, I’m not even from this world. So that’s a thing.”

Shanks pauses mid-drink, the rim of his mug hovering just shy of his lips as he blinks at you. For once, the ever-unflappable Red-Haired Yonko looks... well, flapped. He sets his beverage down slowly, his eyes narrowing in that curious, thoughtful way of his, like he’s trying to decide whether you’re messing with him or if you’ve finally gone completely off the deep end. (Let’s face it, it’s a toss-up.)

You, of course, are completely unbothered by his reaction. In fact, you’re barely paying attention to him at all, too busy tinkering with your little doomsday device—or whatever the hell that thing is.

You start explaining, your words coming out in bursts of chaotic energy as you wave your hands around (which, considering you’re holding wires and probably a live battery, is extremely concerning).

You tell him about your world—how it’s full of superheroes and villains, and how you were one of the latter. Not because you were evil or anything, but because it was fun. Survival was tough in a world like yours, so you made your own fun, pulled a few heists, caused a bit of mayhem, blew up a few buildings here and there (details, details).

You glance up at Shanks, your eyes sparkling with mischief, and add, “And then one day, BAM! Out of nowhere, I get spawn and fall from the sky and into this place. Like the universe itself went, ‘You know what? You’re too much for this world. Let’s try you somewhere else.’” You laugh, loud and unrestrained, clearly enjoying the absurdity of it all.

Shanks, meanwhile, is still trying to process what you’ve just told him. It’s not that he doesn’t believe you—honestly, at this point, he’d believe just about anything when it comes to you—but it’s a lot to take in. Another world? With superheroes and villains? And you—you—were one of the villains? He can’t help but chuckle at that. Of course, you were. It explains so much.

Still, he has questions. So many questions. Like, how did you get here? Can you go back? Do you even want to go back? And, more importantly, what kind of idiot superheroes let you run wild long enough to wreak havoc in their world?

He doesn’t ask, though—not yet. Instead, he watches as you get bored of your gadget and toss it behind you with a shrug, causing a small explosion that sends a flock of seagulls squawking into the sky. You don’t even flinch, just lean back on your hands and grin like a kid who just got away with stealing cookies from the jar.

“That explains why no one’s ever heard of you,” Shanks finally says, his tone light but his eyes sharp, studying you. “Not that it matters. You’ve already made a name for yourself here.”

You smirk at him, that wild, mischievous grin that makes his chest tighten in a way he’s not ready to unpack. Of course, you’ve made a name for yourself here. You’re you. Doesn’t matter what world you’re in—you’re always going to be the storm that leaves chaos in its wake.

But what Shanks doesn’t say—what he won’t say, not yet—is that your revelation changes everything for him. Because now, it’s not just about keeping you safe from the marines or rival pirates. It’s not just about protecting you from the dangers of this world. It’s about keeping you here. In this world. With him. Because if you’re not from here, if you somehow came from somewhere else, then what’s to stop you from vanishing again?

The thought sends a spike of unease through him, but he buries it beneath his usual easy grin. He won’t let that happen. He can’t. You’ve turned his world upside down in the best possible way, and he’s not about to let you slip through his fingers.

If the universe went through the trouble of dropping you into his life, then damn it, he’s going to make sure you stay there. Even if it means playing along with your chaos and keeping his own obsession hidden behind that charming, carefree facade.

And so, life continues—a kaleidoscope of chaos, obsession, and unpredictable adventures that leave the Grand Line buzzing with your name. Shanks, ever the enigma, plays his role of charming pirate captain to perfection, but you know better by now.

The surface-level grin, the casual remarks, the way he always "just happens" to be in the same port town as you? Yeah, no one’s buying that anymore. The man is hooked, and not even the sea itself could untangle him from you.

But the question lingers—what next? You’ve already turned this world upside down, left a trail of havoc, and made a Yonko, one of the most powerful men alive, fall head-over-peg-legs obsessed with you.

And yet, your spirit is as untamed as ever. Shanks knows this, too. Oh, he’d love for you to stay, to have you as part of his crew or even just within reach, but you? You’re not the type to stick around for too long. You’re a storm, a burst of energy that refuses to be tied down by anything—not even the Red-Haired Pirate himself.

Still, Shanks can’t help but hope. He won’t say it outright, of course. Instead, he’ll do what he does best: adapt.

If you decide to wander, he’ll make sure to hear about your escapades—whether from his informants, his crew, or the occasional Wanted poster featuring your grinning face plastered in every marine office from here to the New World. And if he hears that you’re in trouble? Oh, he’ll be there. Not immediately, because that would be too obvious, but soon enough to lend a hand and maybe—just maybe—steal a bit more of your time.

And if you do decide to stay? If you decide that maybe, just maybe, the chaotic magnetism between the two of you is worth exploring? Well, Shanks isn’t going to complain. He’ll welcome you with open arms and maybe a locked door or two—just in case you try to bolt, ready to see where this wild ride takes the both of you.

But here’s the thing—this is your story. Whether you stick around, sail off on your own, or somehow find a way back to your world of superheroes, it’s all up to you.

Shanks knows this, even if he hates to admit it. He knows he can’t control you, and truthfully, he wouldn’t want to. That unbridled chaos is part of what drew him to you in the first place.

So maybe one day you’ll vanish, just as suddenly as you arrived, leaving behind a legend that grows wilder with every retelling. Or maybe you’ll stick around, redefining what it means to be a pirate in this world. Either way, one thing is certain: you’ve left a mark on this world—and on Shanks—that won’t be forgotten anytime soon.

And who knows? Maybe chaos itself has finally found a place it belongs. Or maybe it was never about belonging at all. Either way, the seas will never be the same. And neither will he.

[second-star-to-motunui]

It’s Going To Be Ok

✨feat. Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia✨

Summary: They found you trying to hurt yourself and stopped you. Now they’re doing their best to remind you that you aren’t alone.

reader is referred to as Yuu (they/them)

tw// self harm, eating disorders, suicide attempts

note: life hasn’t been easy lately. most of what’s written is based on personal experiences. I wrote this to comfort myself, and I hope it can bring you comfort too.

“Yuu? Are you crying? What happened—hey, hey stop that, stop doing that!”

Riddle stopped Yuu from scratching, their arms red and bleeding from their nails. He rushed them to the infirmary and it was there that they broke down and spilled everything.

Riddle didn’t know what to say in the moment, but he hugged Yuu and let them cry into his shoulder. He apologized for all the horrible things they were dealing with and swore to them that they could come to him if they needed.

He makes it a part of his routine to check on Yuu after that and provide anything they need, from assistance with studying to even just a hug.

“How has your day been? Good? I see… I bought these gloves for you. Anytime you feel like scratching just put them on, then you can’t hurt yourself. Please come to me if you feel like hurting yourself again. We can have tea and talk instead.”

“The hell? What the hell are you doing?! PUT THAT DOWN!”

Leona had come to the botanical garden for an afternoon nap when he smelled blood. He found Yuu hiding behind a tree with a switchblade. They had scars on their arms and they were about to slit their wrist before Leona caught them.

Yuu dropped the blade and burst into tears. Leona took them to his dorm room and took care of them. He was scolding them for doing something so dangerous, but it was clear that he cared and was genuinely concerned for them.

If he wasn’t already around Yuu often, he’s glued to their hip now. He’ll eat lunch with them, nap around them and wait for them outside of their classroom so he can walk with them.

“Look at me. Look at me. You are not worthless, ok? Whoever put that idea in your head, ignore them. And if there’s somebody bothering you, you better tell me and I’ll deal with it, ok? I’m here for you.”

“Yuu, I’ve been looking for… Are you alright? You’re not fine, you’re barely standing! YUU!”

Azul caught Yuu before they could collapse. He asked when they had eaten last only to learn that Yuu had been deliberately starving themself from stress.

Azul gently escorted them to Monstro Lounge to get them something to eat. He was reminded of his own struggles with eating when he was young, and he couldn’t bear to see it on Yuu now.

He sends messages to Yuu throughout the day to remind them to take care of themself. Jade and Floyd keep a close eye on Yuu too. If they get even a whiff that Yuu is falling into bad habits, then it’s off to Octavinelle for lunch.

“Angelfish, may I speak with you? Listen… I know what it’s like to hate who you see in the mirror, but trust me when I say that hurting yourself won’t make it better. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. We can even do it over lunch if that helps.”

“Why are you crying? Was it something I said? Wait, wait, please don’t do that, please stop! I can fix this!”

Kalim doesn’t understand why, but one second he was talking to Yuu and the next they had burst into tears and started hitting themself in the head.

He stopped Yuu and hugged them tight, offering to do something fun to cheer them up. He tried dancing with them, playing a game, but nothing seemed to help. Jamil ended up having to step in.

In the end, (after a difficult conversation with Jamil) Kalim learned that the best thing he could do was let Yuu feel their feelings rather than ignore them with positivity. He doesn’t like seeing Yuu cry, but he’s more than happy to hold their hand through it.

“Hey so… Jamil said there’s something wrong in your brain that makes you sad all the time? No, no, not wrong! Uh… different? … A disorder? I see… well, if you want to talk about it I’m here to listen. Just… please don’t hit yourself like that again ok? Hit me instead! No? If you change your mind you can do it, I can take it!”

“What do you have there? Don’t try to hide it, give it here! Are you an idiot?! Don’t you realize what this is?!”

When Vil snatched the potion bottle from Yuu’s hand, he really hoped they genuinely didn’t know they were about to drink a deadly poison. Yuu began to cry and Vil’s heart broke because he realized they knew exactly what they were doing.

Vil has a long talk with Yuu about their troubles. They hated their hair, they hated their body, they hated themself. Vil takes their hands and swears to them that he’ll do whatever he can to help them. But first he has to know where they got the poison so he can assure they’ll never get their hands on another one.

Self care days become a weekly event. Light exercises, home spa days, clothes shopping, Vil will even allow himself a cheat day for desserts if it means bringing Yuu comfort.

“Oh no, have you been pulling your hair out again? It’s ok, no tears, let me see… Ah, it’s not as bad as it was last time. Don’t apologize, darling. Hair grows back. Come, let’s see how we can take care of it now and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Yuu? Are you here I brought… Yuu? Oh no—hey! Wake up! Wake up! Ortho, I need help!”

Idia found Yuu unconscious on their bedroom floor, having swallowed half a bottle of pills. Together, him and Ortho get Yuu to a hospital and don’t leave their side until they awake.

Idia beats himself up so much after that because he knew Yuu was in a bad place mentally, he just never thought they’d do something so drastic. He wraps them in the biggest hug when they wake up, sobbing and apologizing and promising to be a better friend.

Yuu spends a few weeks in Ignihyde once they’re discharged from the hospital. Idia doesn’t say much, but he does watch their favorite shows and plays their favorite games with them.

“… You’re moving back to your dorm today, right? Ok… um—t-this is for you! It’s a new phone, I know the one Crowley got you sucks ass. Just… call me if something happens again. Or Ortho! We’ll be there for you ok? W-We care about you…”

“The view from here is lovely, isn’t it? You should watch your step, the fall would be quiet devastating.”

Malleus appeared at Yuu’s side before they could take another step towards the cliffs edge, holding their shoulder firmly and keeping them in place.

He talks about meaningless things for a little while before he gently holds Yuu’s hand and invites them to join him on a walk and get some ice cream. They leave together, right after Yuu has short cry in Malleus’s arms.

Malleus drops by Ramshackle every single day after that. Sometimes it’s for ice cream dates, sometimes it’s to invite them to Gargoyle Studies Club activities. Often he’ll just be there while Yuu does whatever. Yuu doesn’t know it, but Malleus waits until he knows they’re safely in bed at the end of each day before he leaves them.

“Thank you for spending time with me today. I do enjoy your company… I know human lives are rather short compared to that of a fae’s, but please don’t try to shorten it. You aren’t a burden. You’re wonderful. I’ll remind you that you’re wonderful every day if I have to. You’re very precious to me.”

[camillomea]

child of crime alley chapter 5: nox

and new chapter. I hope you like it. Write your thoughts in the comments. Enjoy reading. Thanks for everyone's support.

Tim was working on something on his computer when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He had only left his post once to go on patrol for an hour but had returned when the patrol was over. He had jumped when he felt a hand and grabbed the hand that was holding him. It was Jason. “Hey bird, it’s me. I’m sorry. I was calling out to you and you didn’t hear me. That’s why,” he said. Tim let go of his hand and relaxed when he saw him. Jason said, “Good reflexes little bird.” Tim asked, “Thanks. What’s the matter?” Jason said. Tim looked over there curiously and saw a tray with a plate of cookies and two mugs in it. He sniffed the air and murmured, “It smells nice.” Jason chuckled. He put the tray on the table. “Go on, eat it bird. You should eat the cookies before the vultures swarm,” he said. Tim tilted his head to the side curiously. Jason asked, “It’s not a big deal bird. What time does your shift start?” Tim looked at his watch. “It’s 4 o’clock. That means we have 45 more minutes,” he said as he picked up one of the cookies and started eating it. Jason said “You need to eat.” Tim shook his head “I’ll eat when I get there. My workplace is a cafe and they serve hot pastries at all hours, to be honest I can’t wait to go and eat.” A voice said “Do you prefer Alfred’s food to a crappy cafe?” Tim looked over and saw Damian. Jason said “Dami” in a warning tone. Damian said “What the hell?” Tim said “Kid, I’ve never had Alfred’s food in my life. So I can’t compare” he said expressionlessly. Damian flinched “That’s impossible” he said. Jason said “He’s telling the truth” Damian froze. But they knew my situation and made sure I ate without a penny even though I had money for a long time. So no matter what happens that place will always have a special place in my heart.” Damian froze at that. Jason said “Drink your drink, bird, eat it before you go to work. I didn’t make it for nothing” Tim said “Sorry for the trouble”. Jason, no need to be sad, bird, I got some for myself too, look,” he said, pointing to the tray. Tim nodded silently. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Jason ruffled his hair gently. Tim looked at him with glassy eyes. It was obvious he wasn’t used to this. Jason pulled his hand away. “Oh, by the way, Bird, I’ll drop you off, it’s cold out here, don’t freeze,” he said. Tim said, “I don’t want to bother.” Jason said, “Hey, you live in the alley, it’ll just be up the road.” Tim hesitated but nodded. “Thanks, Hood,” he said quietly. Jason said, “Of course.” Then he asked, “By the way, where do you work?” Tim said, “Uh, uh,” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. Tim asked, “Do you remember the Nox cafe in the alley?” Jason froze. “Is that the place in the alley that gives free food to anyone who can’t afford it?” Tim nodded. Jason said, “WAIT! Are you telling me you met the owner?” Tim said, “I’m exercising my right not to answer,” he said, looking away. Jason’s eye twitched. “Timmy, timbelina, timbuktu, timothea, thea now please answer me. Have you met or not?” he asked. Tim said. “Maybe.” Jason said. “Okay. So who is this person?” he asked patiently. Tim looked away and took a long sip of his hot chocolate. “Good.” Jason’s eye twitched. “Bird.” Tim said. “You wouldn’t believe it even if I told you.” Jason said. “Try it.” Tim took out his phone and typed in a name. Jason leaned over and looked at the text. He blinked. “Are you serious?” he said. Tim nodded and continued drinking his drink, closing the screen. Jason sighed. “Whoever it is, I barely ate there when I was little. I guess I’ll have to go say hello to him later.” Tim shrugged.