#I’m not sure if the quality is meant to be that way

[loneliness-of-spring]

what if... yuu and yan! scarabia... ? book 4 but they just dont want to let you leave.... think emoji

‼️‼️‼️THIS IS A YANDERE POST IF YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE PLEASE SCROLL AWAY. YANDERE CONTENT BELOW THE CUT‼️‼️‼️

I DO NOT CONDONE ANYTHING MENTIONED IN THIS POST!!!

I don’t know if you meant just our two scarabia characters or the whole dorm but either way I think it’s delicious. My thoughts here are more jamil-focused because he’s like. The main instigator in the first place WHAHHAHA

Also I got so stuck on thinking of what to illustrate for my points I’m so sorry 😭😭😭😭⁉️⁉️⁉️ this is more me rambling about bullshit

ooooh jamil’s plot takes on an extra sinister motive here whehehehehhe. He’s the first one to invite yuu into scarabia originally, for us to witness Kalim “becoming a tyrant” and a recreation of the Riddle situation. In a yandere scenario, aside from his anger and hatred towards Kalim and wanting to dethrone him, he’d definitely have an added motive of wanting to scare yuu away from Kalim right into his “caring” arms.

Kalim… would be a more “magnanimous” yandere. The type to spoil you absolutely rotten, treat you to anything in the world, just not the actual proper freedom you’re asking for. Trapping a bird in a gilded cage! He’d be way more agreeable to letting yuu stay in scarabia than in canon, and way more willing to “share” and show off his darling. I’m sure jamil abuses that fact to his advantage.

Jamil would be sooo manipulative. Unlike canon, he’d be more active in personally taking care of you, aiding in your escape attempts only to be “caught”, pretending to be your one and only ally in scarabia, all to gain more favour in your eyes. He’s the good guy, trying to help you, but his hands are tied by Kalim the tyrant! He’s risking his head just for you, see?

While he hates to put you through the gruelling marches to the oasis, he’s doing it to drive home the fact that Kalim’s a tyrant. It’s okay, he’ll take good care of you afterwards in any way he’s able to! He’s soooo sorry for dragging you into the mood swings of his tyrant of a dorm head.

If Kalim weren’t being controlled, he would’ve so gotten you on the same carriage as him during the oasis march. Literally cuddling up to you while sitting comfortably on plush, high quality cushions in the cooling shade as the entire scarabia dorm worked their asses off to get to the oasis in the desert sun.

I don’t think Jamil actually expected you to escape on your own; he’s got issues with looking down on others in a “I could do better than them, I just wasn’t allowed to!” fashion (I dunno how this holds up with book 7 I’m so sorry). In this scenario, I imagine that he probably had another escape plan for you in mind that would get you straight to Crowley/ an authority figure so he’d have no choice but to shut the tyrant situation down (he wouldn’t want a repeat of the riddle overblot, would he?), but once you crashed in Octavinelle and met the trio it was over for him and his plan.

Jamil’s overblot would go a bit differently. You’d definitely be locked up or held prisoner rather than tossed out with octavinelle and Kalim (saddening). The fight would go as per usual, but the aftermath? Horrific for Jamil. He’s RUINED in yuu’s eyes and he knows it. I think Kalim would’ve cried and even begged on his knees for you to stay and give them a second chance; literally bribing you with luxuries you could never think of having while living in that dilapidated dorm of yours (tempting when in a horrific living situation), but they can’t really do much coercion with the most powerful trio from octavinelle as witnesses. Jamil’s most definitely also trying to stop Kalim because this gives octavinelle extremely valuable information; the ramshackle prefect is a large weakness for the Scarabia dorm heads.

Perhaps if jamil didn’t literally just overblot, he would’ve used snake whisper again on you for you to agree to Kalim’s begging… and maybe even to agree to doing a few more things when you’re locked away in scarabia… Whereas Kalim is the type to worship his darling, jamil’s the type to want to be worshipped. In captivity, you’d be treated so affectionately by the two; adorned in all sorts of high quality clothing and jewellery from the scalding sands by kalim, jamil taking control over every little thing in your life so you wouldn’t have to lift a finger and forcing you to praise him for all that he’s doing for you, even using snake whisper on you in private so he can get you to worship him with the sweetest, most ego-inflating words, flirtatious and touchy actions, all while putting down kalim with every compliment you give him. Things you’d never do willingly with him.

The dorm… Oughhh the whole scarabia dorm… they’re all scheming and competing for yuu’s affections. If the WHOLE dorm were yandere, the competition would go crazy.

Some would temporarily work together, agreeing with Kalim to keep you in the dorm. Some would be backstabbers and do the same as Jamil; pretend that they’re your only ally and that you can’t trust anyone, constantly “helping” you to gain your favour and drive you away from the others.

The constant backstabbing would go INSANE you can’t trust anyone for shit because the moment you do they betray you/ get found out and hurt to reinforce that if you try to escape, people will be hurt in your stead. (in reality your “allies” find out about the others and tattle on them to the others. “If I can’t have you, no one can” mentality.)

If twst were a psychological horror game this would be it on expert level difficulty

[cherrykpawp]

Heat // Ch 7.5

This chapter includes: Flashbacks, hybrids, Origin of adoption, Afab!reader, reader-centric, angst, mentions of death, suicidal thoughts (if you are not comfortable, you do not have to read it. Please, take care of yourself <3.)

Taglist: @m-flowerjunnie-oa, @mrsminseochoi, @strawwff, @sunlight120902, @awkward-fucking-thing, @menialmoonchild, @jjongsho, @chanscase143, @lililiarina, @babyquokkasworld

Song rec: Like Him - Tyler, The Creator

W.C: 4.4k

“She’s perfect, thank you.” A male voice said to the lady in white with confidence and ease. Sitting timidly, you watched with curious eyes as the male offered his hand to you. “You may not look like her, but you do have some of her qualities.”

Who was the lady he was referring to? The older man—somewhere between his forties and fifties—had told you earlier that you were being adopted today. It was your first time, and you wanted to make a good first impression on your new owners. You’d been given a fresh set of clothes: a baby blue pullover, matching sweats, and white loafers. As you left your hybrid friends behind, you set forth into what would be a new chapter of your life.

The older man drove you to your new home. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the window as the trees blurred past. There were a million and one questions you wanted to ask, but none escaped your lips. Instead, you chose to wait until you arrived before saying anything. Your tail wrapped around your waist, reassuring yourself that this would be a great experience.

“You know, I never expected to be giving anyone a hybrid. You creatures are pretty otherworldly.” The older man attempted to start a conversation, but you weren’t sure how to respond. You acknowledged that you were meant to be a gift for someone—something given, not chosen. Instead of speaking, you simply bowed your head toward him, turning your gaze back to the window.

The drive was only an hour. When the car finally pulled to the curb, you noticed a pleasant-looking house beside it. It was a fairly standard home, with a large, cozy front patio, a red rooftop, and tall trees surrounding it, their leaves swaying in the gentle breeze. Autumn was approaching, and the leaves had slowly begun to shift into their vibrant shades of orange and red.

“Come out, hun.” The male stepped out of the driver's side, and you followed, exiting the passenger's side with your old clothes in hand.

He walked you to the door of the house and rang the doorbell three times. The sharp, echoing chime made your ears twitch—it was higher-pitched than the regular doorbells you’d heard in the movies at the clinic. Soon after, the door opened. But with the man standing in the way, you couldn’t see who was on the other side.

“Hello, grandma.” Grandma? You thought he was old enough to be a grandfather, not the grandchild of the person standing at the door.

“Hi, baby. How are you today?” Her voice sounded so fragile, with a twinge of sadness that made your ears droop against your head.

He walked forward, so you followed quietly behind him, careful not to make your presence known. “I’m great, I'm great. Have you been taking your vitamins and medication?”

She scoffed. “Of course not. I’d forget my head if it weren't on my shoulders.” With a deep sigh, she settled onto a sofa you could make out in your peripheral vision. From behind the man, you could see a glimpse of her soft, grey curls. “What brings you here today?”

He cleared his throat, looking a bit nervous. “Well…I know you haven’t been…happy or lively…since Mom passed away.” A quiet moment of silence passed between the three of you, heavy with unspoken emotions. “So I thought it might be a good idea to have someone there—to take care of you, watch over you, and make sure you’re taking your vitamins and medications.”

The older lady didn’t say anything at first—she seemed to be waiting for more context. Still, she didn’t seem particularly pleased. The man stepped aside, finally revealing you to your owner. She was definitely someone’s grandmother—her face and hands were etched deep with heavy wrinkles, and an oxygen tank beside her, its tubes running to her nostrils. Her eyes appeared so… disconnected, undoubtedly mourning the loss of her daughter. She looked at you, but you couldn’t tell what kind of stare it was—approval, confusion, or something else entirely. You were nervous suddenly, but instinctively, you bowed to her, hoping to make a good impression.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” She didn’t respond.  Instead, her eyes flicked between you and her grandson, her expression unreadable.

Sensing the deafening silence, he stepped in, the ambience in the room had gone stale. “I got you a hybrid,” he said gently. “I heard they’re good for companionship, comfort, and assistance. I can’t be here all the time to take care of you, my kids, and my grandbabies. I’m getting weak myself, and soon I’ll need them to take care of me.” He paused, then continued, trying to reason with her. “I know she may not look like Mom, but…she has her eyes. That’s what encouraged me to bring her to you. Maybe you’ll find some comfort behind them.”

The older lady didn’t know what to say. Her bottom lip trembled as she tried for something,  anything, to say. “Companion? My daughter’s eyes?” She repeated softly, her voice wavering. It wasn’t quite a question, more a disbelief she couldn’t quite process. “I guess that’s the reality of the situation, huh?” She inhaled deeply from the oxygen tank, the hissing sound filling the silence. “Bring her back. I can take care of myself.”

“Grandma, no, you can’t. You can’t even remember to take your meds.” He was clearly frustrated by her stubbornness.

“They don’t help anyway.”

Your tail was tightly wrapped around your waist, nervously toying with the bottom of your pullover. You didn’t know whether to intervene or remain silent, unsure if your emotional acumen was sharp enough for the tension in the room.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, I just brought her here. Please, give her a try. 

“It’s the audacity,” she spat, “to come here and even remotely assume that she has her traits, let alone that she's not fully human. It’s an insult. She’s gone…”

“And I know that.” His voice cracked, sounding broken himself, as if he were trying to mend a shattered vase with scotch tape and hope. “You don’t think I miss my mother?” The weight of his words hung in the air. “You’re the only thing closest to her, and I need you alive and well.”

She gave a disappointed look, “I can’t accept this…” Her voice was quiet but adamant. The male looked defeated, his gaze turning to look at you, filled with sorrow. 

You knelt in front of them, bowing your head to her. 

“Ma’am, I know you don’t know me yet, but I am sorry for what’s happened to your daughter. I’m sorry that I am not like her and will probably never compare to her. But your grandson brought me here to take care of you. Even if you can’t see her in me, at least allow me to ensure you’re in great health, to live another day. I can see the hurt in your eyes, they seem so broken.” You frowned deeply, wishing you could provide her with what she actually wanted: her daughter. “I can’t bring her back like you might want, or magically turn into her. But please, let me help you try to live for her. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you giving up so easily. Your grandson looks like he’s been trying his hardest.” 

You raised your head slowly, offering a gentle expression on your face. “Please, give me a week. Let me try to take her off your mind or fill a void for you. If I’m not suitable, I’ll voluntarily return to the clinic.”

The old woman was rendered speechless, her lips pressed into a brooding, taut line. Her gaze remained distant, as if she no longer had the strength to put up a fight. The grandson looked nervous, torn between his grandmother and the hope he’d placed in you. You could see the exhaustion in his face, the weariness of fighting this losing battle. His plight was written in the lines of his wrinkled eyes—a desperation for peace and for this to work. You wanted to cower, but you knew you had to persuade her—to show her that you could help.

“A week…you have a week.” You sighed with contentment, easing off your knees, your grip tightening around your clothes as a sense of relief washed over you.

~~

For the entire week, you gave your best effort, staying on your A-game. Each morning, you made sure that her meds were by her side with a glass of water. You helped her with her oxygen tank, assisted her to the restroom when she needed, which wasn’t often, and cooked meals from the recipes she had written down—her favorite dishes, as well as those her daughter once loved. You kept her company, sitting with her as she watched her favorite shows, and encouraged her to take thirty-minute walks for exercise. She still hadn’t warmed up to you, seeing you as nothing more than a stranger, but you didn’t let that stop you.

However, as the week came to a close, you decided it was time to bring up the topic during her daily lunch. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but curiosity pushed you forward.

“Ma’am?” 

She chewed her food slowly, glancing over at you as you spoke. 

“It’s been a week today since you got me. Have you made up your mind on whether you want to keep me or not?”

The elderly woman placed her fork down, leaning back in her chair. “I do want to keep you.” She nodded, a brooding look clouding her face. “It’s just hard to accept, you know?”

Though you never lost anyone personally, you could feel her grief and how heavy it weighed on her. You simply waited, allowing her to continue. 

“She was supposed to bury me.” Her voice trembled, eyes distant with memory. “She had so much more to live for. Even though people saw her as older, she was forever young to me. Forever my baby… It hurts to remember her… but it feels even worse to try and forget someone who came into your life and changed it for the better. Especially your own child.” She glared at the clock in her kitchen with visceral spite. “Time is evil and selfish… yet I still wish I could turn it back. Just one more day. Just to see her again.”

“Would you feel better… even if you had that ability?” You asked curiously, empathy threading your voice.

The older woman shook her head, “No,” she replied. “Because I still wouldn’t be able to prevent the inevitable. Time would’ve still taken her away.”

Your ears flattened on your head, wishing there was more you could do to ease her pain. “I don’t know if this seems inconsiderate, but I’d like to know more about your daughter—what she liked, what she was into, the shows she watched, her hobbies… You can tell me all about her, if it makes you feel better.”

And your owner did just that.

Almost every day for the past month, she spoke about her daughter—nonstop. But never once minded. Listening to her made you learn not just about the woman she’d lost, but about your owner herself. You found out her daughter had been a choir singer at church, faithfully attending weekly. That revelation sparked the desire to learn how to sing. You discovered her favorite artists, and the songs she loved, which your owner played daily around the house. You learned her favorite colors, her hobbies, and comfort food—and, over time, you came to appreciate those things too. It felt as though you were almost shaping into her daughter’s image. And if that was the role you had to play, you were determined to give it your all. However, it wasn’t just about duty. The truth was, you genuinely enjoyed it. This was your first real glimpse into the world beyond the same four walls of the clinic. 

One day, in the following month of learning about her daughter, you realized you’d run out of heat suppressants. Reluctantly, you had to tell her about it. Having already read about heats from the pamphlets her grandson left behind, she was familiar with the concept—even if she found it hard to fully accept.

“It’s… strange to me,” she admitted after a pause. “But that’s just my old, religious ways talking. I don’t mean to judge.” 

She promised to help you find a heat hotel, her concern evident when asking about your safety and comfort. When it was time for you to leave for the week, she wished you nothing but peace and protection. When you returned, though, she noticed something was off immediately—and when she asked, you told her you were quite upset about your experience and the discomfort, and expressed it to her. It wasn’t the place she’d sent you that upset you—it was who was supposed to “help” while you were there.

“I’m sorry that I sent you there. Next time, I’ll find somewhere better for you.” She comforted you, rubbing a hand on your lower back, then added a bit of dry humor, “Boys are terrible in all forms they come in, huh?” Her lightheartedness made you chuckle despite yourself—and when you looked up at her smiling, for what seemed like the first time… it filled you with joy. 

The second time your heat came around, she was more prepared. She quietly set aside some money to book a better hotel for you, sending you off with another heartfelt safe and peaceful heat. While the hotel itself was better, the heat partner assigned… wasn’t. He was abrasive, inconsiderate of you, your heat, and your boundaries—only focused on satisfying his own needs.

“I don’t think these hotels are going to work out for you, then. I’m not sending you anymore. We can find an alternative.”

The alternative was definitely better, but still, it wasn’t comparable to the real thing. You put up with it for her, guilt settling about this fragile woman having to pay for your way of life. She could barely keep up with her medications, let alone afford the hotels. So, you did what you could to satisfy yourself in your room until it was over. 

Your time with her continued over the following months, celebrating her birthday by baking a cake for her the night before. As you expected, she was in her eighties—a milestone you could tell was weighing on her, but she never let it show. The two of you had formed a bond during your time together. Slowly, she stopped seeing you as just the hybrid her grandson brought to her, but instead, she began to treat you more like a daughter—someone she could share memories with, someone who was there for her, not just to fulfill a need.

She would brush your locks that had grown just past your shoulders, humming soft tunes as she gently combed through every section. You would purr at the sensation, especially when the teeth of the brush lightly touched your ear. You had grown accustomed to wrapping your tail around her whenever you needed comfort, and she had come to find the action endearing. She would style your hair in variety of ways—ponytails, braids, buns, waves, or curls—and show you her work with the hand mirror. Her hand would tremble as she held it for you. In those moments, you’d either hold her hand steady or gently take the mirror from her, not wanting her to struggle. She would apologize now and then, embarrassed by the shaking. But you would always reassure her, appreciating the time she took to beautifully style your hair for you, knowing that each strand she arranged carried a piece of her love and care. 

One night, as you were cleaning, you noticed a heavy trunk tucked away in the hallway closet. It was too heavy for you to left on your own, so you decided to ask her about it.

“Grandma, what’s that trunk in the closet filled with?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

The older woman set her cup of tea down on the small plate in her hand. “It’s her clothes. From when she was in her early teens to her late thirties. She kept them here because she always hoped to give them to her daughter one day… but she ended up having an only boy.” 

She placed the cup on the table in front of her, locking her fingers together on top of her legs. “Now, there’s no reason for them to be here. But if you want to wear them, you can.” She paused to inhale deeply from her oxygen tank, a brief wheeze before a cough followed. 

“That wouldn’t be right of me,” you refused, glancing at the trunk, silently debating whether or not to browse through its contents. 

“Please, I insist.” She said genuinely, peering down at you in the hallway. “They probably look too old or vintage—as the kids say these days—but they’re timeless.”

You tried on a few pieces from the trunk. The ones from her younger teen years didn’t fit, so you moved on to the clothes she had worn in adulthood. One by one, you modeled them to your owner. For the first time, she truly saw what her grandson meant when he said you had her eyes. There was that same innocent gleam—soft, curious, and full of life. She didn’t say it aloud. Saying it would mean acknowledging that her daughter was truly gone. Instead, she watched you in silence, a gentle smile on her face. 

For just a moment, she saw her little girl again— alive in your presence, in the way you moved, in the way you looked back at her. All of her memories of her daughter came rushing back—raising her, watching her grow up, taking her first steps, going through her first heartbreak, finding her first love, holding her first baby… and being there in her final moments. Now, she looked at you, standing in clothes that were previously hers, and her heart ached—but not with grief. She wouldn’t want you to suffer. She wouldn’t want another one of her ‘daughters’ to bear such pain at a young age. She wanted to keep this image of you—whole, gentle—etched into her memory forever. Even if her mind blurred the line… even if, sometimes, it played tricks and turned you into a faded reflection of the girl she lost. And so, with joy softening her face, her eyes finally full of peace, she took one final, slow inhale from her oxygen tank…

You were too distracted by the excitement of new clothing to notice how quiet it had become. As you sifted through the trunk, picking out outfits to try on later, you were happy to see that there were clothes for the fall, and even some that would be perfect for winter and spring—her daughter has really been a fashionista. Pulling out a beautiful dress you saw, you were ready to ask your owner about it—until your heart dropped. 

Your owner sat on her couch—still, tranquil, her eyes gently closed. A faint smile lingered on her lips, as if she were simply resting after a long day. But her arms lay motionless at her sides, insinuating that something was wrong. 

Dropping everything, you rushed to her side, panic gripping your chest. “Grandma? Are you okay?” You tilted her head up, only to watch it loll lifelessly to the side. Tears welled in your eyes as your shaky fingers felt for her pulse—nothing. Desperately, you pressed your hand on your chest, hoping for the rise and fall of breath. 

Stillness. She was gone.

“No, no, no, no!” Your voice cracked, raw with disbelief, in denial that this is happening.

You grabbed her landline phone, frantically scrolling through her contacts in search of someone to call. When you saw the name of her grandson, you broke down in tears as you dialed his number. He picked up after four rings, his voice sounding tired.”

“Hello?”

You sniffled into the phone, voice shaking. “Hi, it’s y/n”. Tear streamed down your face as you struggled to find your next words. This is your first time experiencing something like this. “Grandma…grandma—she’s…”

Within the next hour, her grandson arrived at the door with the paramedics. You sat by her leg, mourning the loss of your owner, unsure of where to go or what to do. The paramedics checked her pulse, confirming her passing before placing her on a stretcher and transporting her to the back of the ambulance. Her grandson’s eyes were red and puffy, reflecting the pain of having lost both of them in one year. He hugged you, needing comfort himself, as you tried to console each other. 

“I’m sorry I put all this responsibility on you. You didn’t deserve to be here to witness this,” he apologized to you. You shook your head.

“I’m grateful for the time I had with her.” You remembered what she told you months before: time waits for no one. 

“I’m sorry to say this, but… with her gone now, I’m going to have to return you to the clinic.”

Your heart sank in your chest. “B-but, can’t I come live with you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have the space. You were hers, I’m afraid.”

Even though you understood the situation, you couldn’t accept it. You couldn’t go back to the clinic, confined within those four walls. Instead, you pretended to go along with his plan.

“No problem…” You wiped the tears from your eyes, forcing a brave face. “I just need to grab a few things and my shoes.” You released him for the last time, studying his face one final time before you began to plan your escape. 

You went to the kitchen, grabbed the shoes that you usually wore to the backyard, and tightly laced them up. While he was distracted by the paramedics, signing the documents they handed to him, you silently slipped through out the back door and bolted as fast as you could. As you ran, tears streamed down your face. You didn’t care where you’d end up; your heart was heavy with the loss of your owner. You finally understood what she meant now—time is cruel and selfish, and you hated every minute of it. Maybe if you hadn’t asked about the clothes, you could have noticed her patterns. But your rational thoughts clashed with your emotions, reminding you that she had been sick anyway and that she had to rely on an oxygen tank. 

But it didn’t hurt any less. 

~~

One heat later, and three months after your escape, you were in no condition to keep striving. The will you once had faded, and though you tried to encourage yourself by thinking you were living for your previous owner, a voice in the back of your mind reminded you that she barely knew you anyway. You learned the hard way that not everyone is as thoughtful or caring as she and her grandson had been. Within your first month on the road, a stranger tried to coax you into coming with her, offering safety. But, when you overheard her on the phone, saying she planning to sell you for thousands, you knew better. You’ve heard the horror stories from your friends at the clinic about terrible things done to hybrids, and you weren’t about to become one of those statistics. 

Some restaurants wouldn’t even allow you to search for food in their garbage, citing “company policy”. Occasionally, a kind person would offer you a warm meal, but they’d often get in trouble for it afterward. The clothes you’d worn for months grew tattered and torn, worn down by trying to keep yourself warm during the bitter winter. You’d stop by some ambulances now and then,  asking for bandages to cover a “bruise”— when in reality, you used them as substitute clothing as parts of your old clothes turned to strings. The EMTs offered help, but you always denied it, unable to trust even them.

In your final month, you had limped into a narrow alleyway, the soles of your feet finally giving out as you collapsed to your knees on the cold concrete. Two dumpsters stood nearby, blocking just enough of the wind from hitting you directly—it made the chill bearable and less biting than the open streets. You cried for a while. Cried because of the situation you’d landed in, all because you couldn’t bring yourself to go back to the clinic like you promised. Cried for how naive you’d been about the world. You cried because you missed the life you had a year ago. And most of all, you cried because you missed your owner, and wished more than anything that you were still with her. You cried until there was nothing left. Until you felt empty.

Emptiness was the last emotion you ever thought you’d feel—yet here it was, settling deep in your chest like a final goodbye. You began to accept that maybe you weren’t meant to be here anymore… on this cruel earth. Maybe the world had already decided your story should end. You wished the cold would just take you, freeze you still, so you wouldn’t have to wake up to another day of struggling to survive. 

With your head bowed, you surrendered to it all, a soft, broken mewl escaping you—of pain, of exhaustion, of a sorrow too heavy for your soul to carry

You shivered constantly, quivering without pause. You had no idea how long you’d been in the alley—minutes, hours—it felt like eons, plus it was the middle of the night, there was no way of telling. Just darkness and its biting chill.

You heard faint footsteps echoing down the alley, growing louder with each step. A soft beam of light swept across the ground—someone with a flashlight. You didn’t look up or move, silently hoping that whoever it was would just pass and leave you alone. But truth be told, you had no more fight left in you. 

“Excuse me mi—“ the male voice cut off mid-sentence. You didn’t respond to him, already over it—over the concern and the pity. “Are you hurt?” he asked gently. You finally looked up at him with a deadpan expression. He was handsome—clean, composed, and you? You felt like the trash piled beside you.

What did you get yourself into?

[timethehobo]

Just some lil fellas in-person. 🤭

[mywritersmind]

WORSHIP ME - LN4 ✦・۪۪۫ . ✦. ۪۪۫ ・✦

summary : In which a rant on a bathroom counter turns into your best friend going off and confessing his feelings.

listen up : kissing! I LOVE THIS

words : 905

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The counter is cool against my skin, my skirt inches higher up my thigh as my leg is straightened in front of me and my head knocked back against the mirror. “I’m sick of it.” I can’t help but say after another dickhead date. “I hate men.”

“I’m a man.” Lando says, standing in front of me like some night in shining armor. His fingers ghost over my skin before they find my heel strap, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You don’t count.” I sigh to my best friend. He’s also dressed up, in a nice black suit and his hair still perfect. I’m assuming he was on a date but honestly, I didn’t ask.

His hands are cold against my skin, successfully pulling off one of my heels. His brow raises at my words.

“I just- I want someone to love me.” My eyes detach from his as I look around the bathroom is true self interest, “I’m sick of getting excited at a text back or blushing if someone compliments me. Compliments my body, by the way. It’s nice sometimes, don’t get me wrong! But I have other qualities other than nice tits!”

He laughs at the last bit, his tinge darting over his lips, “The guy tonight didn’t tell you that you have a beautiful mind?” His tone is sassy and gets met with my heel in his chest.

It doesn’t hurt him of course, just makes him laugh more. He drags my ankle tightly again as if he’s trying to punish me, Jesus I don’t even think he would hurt me by accident.

“I’m serious, Lando!” I groan as his fingers find my heel again, “It’s infuriating!”

“I’m sure it is.” He mumbles.

“You wouldn’t understand! I want to be something else than a fucking one night stand! I want someone to care. Fuck caring I want a man to worship me!”

He lets out a frustrated groan just as my heel falls off. He doesn’t let go of my foot. “You really want that?” He says as if it’s the craziest thing in the world.

“Yes!”

“And you really don’t think I understand it?” He’s frustrated but I don’t know why.

“I mean, yeah.”

“You want to know what I want?”

“Enlighten me.” I say a bit more sassy than I meant it.

He nods, holding back an eye roll as his hand makes its way to my knee and causing me to inhale, “I want a woman.”

“Wow, so picky.” I roll my eyes and look away but his tug at my leg makes me look back.

“I want a girl to stay in my bed for more than just my name. I want a woman who laughs so hard with me that she cries. I want her to actually open her fucking eyes!”

I swallow, “Hm?”

“Christ! I’m taking off your bloody heels and letting you complain to me about every guy on this earth who wants you and you still can’t see that i’m sick of it.”

I frown, “Then tell me to stop.”

He groans, his adam's apple bobbing as he looks away, “That's the problem. I’m sick of it because after this we’ll go back to my room and sleep. And then you’ll wake up and kiss my cheek in those fucking satin shorts you love and you’ll leave me for the next date who won’t text you fast enough or pick you up after a hard day.”

I’m absolutely silent now. “No… that’ll be me who has my notifications on extra loud just for you and my keys always in hand just in case I hear that *ping* from my phone. I’m sick of it because you can’t see that any of those guys will never treat you as good as I do. I’ll worship you forever.”

His hand is still on my knee.

It’s silent, besides Lando’s soft breathing from his rant and my heart beating so fast that I swear he can hear it.

“I’m sick of it too.” I don’t think. I just act. His lips are on mine in a second, my hands gripping his face as he reacts late to the sudden contact. “I’m so sorry.” I breathe out as he stares at me, my lipstick is on him.

He doesn’t say anything before one hand snakes up my leg and another is gripping my waist, pulling me into the best kiss of my life.

He’s not rough, just eager. Something I match easily as he slides me closer so he’s in between my legs. His tongue slides into my mouth as my hand finds his hair. Fuck I love his hair.

“You’re an idiot.” I breathe in between kisses.

“So are you.” He fights back as he tugs at my hair playfully.

I grin. “Touché.”

“But you’re fucking amazing.” He kisses my jaw, “Every part of you.”

I tilt my head back and drop my arms to my side as he clings onto me still. “All the guys… the dates… I really did dream that you’d save me from all that. I think I may have done it to provoke you.”

He laughs and pulls back, his green eyes playful and bright, “You’re an evil mastermind.”

I smile and use my thumb to wipe away my lipstick on his chin, “I like getting what I want.”

“You staying for breakfast tomorrow?”

“I’m staying forever.”

[lotus-acid-trip]

hi! I hope you don’t mind me asking but may I request a Telemachus x fem reader where when ody returns and is being made fun of by the suitors while still in this begger disguise yn starts fighting off the suitors and yelling at them for being rude and maybe later joins ody while he is hunting them down and Telemachus has a love sick look while watching yn just like ody did for Penelope back when they were younger before he married her and after seeing how cool and awesome of a warrior yn is later ody turns to his son and says “I aprove of this one 😏” and poor Telemachus is just like 😳 all flustered and adorable what can I say Telemachus is a sweetie 🥰

feel free to ignore if you want to hope you have a good rest of your day thank you ☺️

“I approve of this one.”

Telemachus x Reader

[Epic The Musical]

oneshot

fluff

This is my first proper romantic reader insert fic, so I hope you enjoy!

Odysseus sat at the entrance of the courtyard under the shade of a large olive tree as he silently observed the numerous suitors scattered across the courtyard in idle chatter. Is this really what had become of his home while he was gone? It was baffling just how ungrateful and disrespectful all these guests were. He worried for the state of his palace after being infested with all these unwelcome guests for so many years. It must have been so difficult on Penelope and Telemachus to deal with all of them, having to feed and house them along with dealing with their pitiful attempts at courting his wife. It was a wonder why the suitors still haven’t been driven out by Telemachus yet.

His hand fiddled with the small wooden bowl in his hands. Odysseus was disguised as an old beggar, but as much as he wanted to reveal himself right then and there he needed to be patient and play it smart. He didn’t have anything other than an old knife hidden in his clothes to defend himself with and he was probably lacking a lot of proper nutrients and sustenance after being out at sea for so long with food of limited quality and quantity. If he were to fight all these suitors right now, he was sure to fail. Not only do they have an advantage in numbers, it was obvious they were well fed, and all the used training equipment seen around the palace was all he needed to know the suitors could fight. If Odysseus wanted to win, he needed to stick to the plan, which meant playing his part as an old beggar.

A suitor passed by him devouring a chicken leg and he held out his bowl to him. It would be a good opportunity to not only learn more about the state of his palace and family, but to also know just what his family has been up to in the past years. “Would you care to spare a bit of food for this old man?” The suitor tilted his head to look down at Odysseus for a moment before raising a brow. “And what exactly is this homeless old man doing in a palace like this? Surely your life hasn’t fallen so far into poverty that you’d go scrounging for scraps in the homes of royalty.” He leaned back against the tree, hands crossing over his legs. “Well, that wasn’t exactly my plan. I was just walking by but with the heat of the sun and with a body as frail and weak as mine, I just had to take a break under the shade of this mighty tree. I was always curious of what happened in the lives of royalty anyway.” He said as he looked up at the leaves and branches. He remembers planting it so many years ago to see how to take care of an olive tree as preparation for making his and Penelope’s marital bed. It's grown so much since then, and he wonders just how much Telemachus has as well. “Well, since you have so much spare time to just wander around doing nothing, why don’t you bring us all a meal or two, all the way from inside the palace’s pantry. You want some food? Work for it, old man.”

Odysseus raised a hand waving off the offer. “Ah, but there might be one small problem. I am just an old beggar, remember? I don’t know anything of the layout of the palace. I’m sorry, but I must decline. Can’t you just ask a servant to help you instead?” The suitor seemed to get irritated at his reply. “Ha! Yeah right, those servants can barely do anything right. They never bring the food on time and always seem to be short on stock. Not even their pathetic prince seems to know what he’s doing.” He stared at the suitor judgmentally. “ ‘Pathetic prince’ you say? Bold words for someone who’s staying in his palace.” The suitor looked at him as if he had just said something audacious instead of common sense. “Listen old man, we’re the guests here, not them. Do you not understand basic hospitality?” Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the suitor. He knew his palace, his servants and the workforce in it. They aren’t lazy or incompetent, if they were they wouldn’t be serving his family. Not to mention, if there wasn’t enough livestock there were plenty of skilled hunters and hunting dogs to accompany them. His memories of old hunts with Argos and others were more than enough proof of that.

“Of course I do. Perhaps instead of trying to defend your impudence against the prince, you could put away your prideful hurbis for a moment and just lend me even an inch of the food you already have on you. For someone relying on the shared hospitality of someone else for their own comfort, you sure don’t seem to be able to do the same.” The suitor’s bored annoyance quickly morphed into thinly veiled anger. “Listen you old derelict, need I remind you that this is not your courtyard you are resting in? This is not your abode and I do not tolerate your insults. For someone who seems to preach so strongly for returning hospitality, you don’t seem too keen on basic respect.” Odysseus hid his amusement at the irony with indifference. “Although that may be true, last I checked this isn’t your home either.” That statement alone seemed to be enough to push him over the edge into full blown rage. Odysseus jumped away from the suitor’s flying fist as it hit the trunk of the tree where his head used to be. “You know, for someone so insistent on how they have difficulty doing physical activities you’re awfully quick to move.” The suitor began to walk towards him, his larger form towering over him and casting a shadow that engulfed Odysseus’s entire form. “Listen here old man. If you think you can just run off after that impudence, your mind must be as deteriorated as your age.” Odysseus continued to back up, hand immediately searching for the knife he hid. A chill crept up his spine when his back hit something. Turning around, it was another suitor, the others beginning to close in on him. Fuck, he messed up. The suitor he first talked to grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up to his face so Odysseus could face him. “Now, I think it's time that you finally learned a long needed lesson on hospitality and what happens when you don’t respect your host-“

“Hey! What the hell is all this racket?” Odysseus never turned his head away from the suitor, but averted his gaze towards the newcomer. A woman emerged from inside the palace and stared at the scene before her in a moment of silence before her once confused gaze immediately morphed into an infuriated wrath that could rival the suitor’s own rage. “Antinous, what do you think you’re doing! Gods above and below, has no one ever taught you to respect your elders?” She marched on towards the both of them, unshaken by any visible fear at the obvious violent intent of the suitors. She gripped the suitor’s, now known as Antinous, wrist and forcefully yanked it away from him, letting Odysseus fall to the ground. Antinous opened his mouth, ready to yell at her but the woman cut him off as she glared coldly at him. “The queen is watching us.” She said as she stared into the suitors eyes as if daring him to try anything. The mention of Penelope is all he needed to whip his head towards the balcony he knows she always loved to use to watch the courtyard. And there she was, elegant and poised, watching with a composed face as she always does. He could see how she’s changed from when he last saw her, the small streaks of white in her hair that weren’t there before, the wrinkles and tired eyes. But he didn’t care, for it was his Penelope, and Odysseus felt like he was falling in love all over again.

Penelope observed them silently, looking at each person one by one before her eyes eventually met his. For a moment, it felt like time froze and they did nothing but stare at each other. It was like the world itself was holding its breath. It was the smallest difference in her eyes that made his chest swell with warmth. Those indifferent calculated eyes that always seemed to be studying every little detail softened for a moment, her composed face faltering for a split millisecond to look at him with the same eyes that looked at him with so much affection and appreciation when he told her how he’d tackle the challenge she gave him. The tension in the air was so thick, yet only he could feel it… and maybe she did as well. Logically, Odysseus knew that they had only been looking at each other for a mere few seconds, but it felt like he was staring for an eternity at something so close yet so far. And Penelope did nothing else but silently stare back. She shifted her position, pulling away from the scene and returning back inside. Odysseus let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. It felt like time suddenly began moving once more when it had always been flowing, falling through his fingers like flowing water with no hope of holding on to it.

“Antinous, if you do not explain to me what exactly you were doing I can and will tell Penelope.” The woman said as she walked in front Odysseus, who’s gaze still lingered on the balcony for another moment before returning to look at the suitors and the new woman. Antinous sneered. “And why should I? Your family may be up there in terms of status, but you’re nowhere near close to me.” He sneered. “And? Do you think I care? You already showed just how petty you get because someone bruised your fragile ego. I still haven’t forgiven you for the fight with Telemachus.” The woman took a step forward towards the suitor, but he didn’t move. “And? The boy started it.” Another step forward and another rise in tension. “Who exactly called his mother a tramp? That’s right, you.” Another step forward until she was right in front of him. At this point even more suitors began to crowd around them to see what was happening, and Odysseus dreaded a physical fight would break out.

“Well then, since you seem so keen on berating me for teaching the little wolf a lesson, why don’t I give you an opportunity to even out the scales?” Antinous’s fist met the woman’s face, sending her stumbling back. She regained her balance before gently touching her face, a bruise forming on her right cheek. Whispers and murmurs emanated from the crows as it grew larger, more suitors joining the audience and a few servants discreetly watching from the sidelines. She looked at her own blood smeared against her fingers before turning her attention towards Antinous. “I gladly accept.” She ran forward, fist aimed at Antinous’s face. The suitor held his forearm up to block it, only for her to twist her foot, turning around to kick him from behind without her fist ever making contact with him. Antinous was pushed forward a step from the force of the kick, but quickly recovered, turning around to grab her by the leg she used to kick him. The crowd around them began cheering as he pulled her forward into another punch, which was blocked by her own forearms, now also bruised. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a headbutt, unable to dodge or move away because of their position.

The sound of a wooden bowl hitting Antinous’s head caused all sound to cease, the silence deafening as everyone’s heads turned to look at the source of the bowl. Antinous glared at Odysseus, who was hiding his grip on his knife in his oversized clothes. Antinous let go of the woman who fell on the floor, wincing at her bruises. Odysseus’s grip on his knife tightened as he took a step forward towards him. He opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off by a young voice. “Stop! What’s going on he- [NAME]!” A young boy shoved his way through the crowd and into the clearing that formed around the olive tree, rushing towards the side of the young woman. He kneeled beside her as he assessed her wounds. Antinous crossed his arms in annoyance as the young boy began to ceaselessly fuss over her. Odysseus stared at the boy, he could recognize those eyes from anywhere. “[name], are you okay? What happened?”

“Tele, I’m fine. It's just a few bruises, I’m not an old frail man.” She said as she sharply turned to look at Antinous. “Unlike the person a certain someone was harassing.” Odysseus stared at the young man- no, his son. No wonder he looked so familiar. He had his mother’s eyes and the same fair skin as her, but the face and hair of his own. His head was reeling, it had been so long since he’d seen his young boy. He was all grown up now, grown through all those special moments in his life Odysseus would never be able to experience. Gods, he missed his first hunt, his first training session, he missed being able to teach his son all the things he promised he’d pass on from his mentorship under Athena. But now Telemachus was right there, but he still couldn’t teach him all the things he wasn’t able to.

Antinous looked at all three of them one by one, from Odysseus to Telemachus in increasing disgust. “I’ve had enough of this, the way both of you act around each other is nauseating.” He said as he left the courtyard and into the building. Telemachus helped [name] up and she turned to look at Odysseus. “I am so sorry for all this. My intent was only to help you get that pig off your back,” She said as she looked at the direction Antinous left in with so much disgust it almost gave Odysseus whiplash from her original apologetic tone. “but it seems my impulsiveness got the better of me. Usually I try not to cause fights but I’m not exactly the best at not doing that.” She said shamefully. “Oh please, it's quite alright. I understand what it’s like. Sometimes, when you’re in the heat of the moment, your emotions cloud your judgement and you’re so focused on doing what you think’s right that… you don’t realize the consequences that might follow.” He said with a wistful smile. “I really have no idea what happened, but I apologize either way. Please, have this for your troubles.” Telemachus said as he handed him money, before cutting through the crowd to probably lead [name] to get healed. Odysseus stared at the coins placed in his hand, it was enough to buy him a whole house.

……………………………………………………

……………………………………………………

The metallic stench of blood filled your nose as you walked across the wet floor, the red liquid staining your sandals. The faint light of the torches could barely illuminate the dark room, the moon’s light nowhere to be seen through the windows. What little the light did show was nothing but puddles of blood and the faint outline of bodies. Right there, at the end of the room were twelve axes that were originally supposed to be used for the challenge queen Penelope made for her suitors. It didn’t take long for you to hear about what went wrong, and it took even shorter for you to make your way here. You grabbed one of the axes, testing its weight as you gave it a few experimental swings. The silence of the challenge room was so quiet you could hear your own wet footsteps echo as you tested the axe. You internally facepalmed as you looked down at your weapon, realizing just how little you thought this through. You had no plan in mind, you just heard that Telemachus was also fighting and just had to join. The idea of fighting alongside him was exhilarating, and meeting his father, king Odysseus and master tactician that won the war? You didn’t really think too hard on your decision to join. As much as you hated to admit it, Telemachus and your father were right. You really needed to think things through more. 

Your body tensed when you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room, your grip on your axe tightening. Well, if you were good at one thing, it was brazenly charging into battle. You readied your stance, prepared for a fight. Since you weren’t able to kill Antinous, you’ll have to settle for killing the suitor first. The moment the bright light of a torch rounded the corner of the entryway, you charged forward, swinging your axe towards their head. Being on the other side of the room, they had plenty of time to jump out of your way. Now, you were at the entrance and they were trapped inside the room. Their torch illuminated their face and you took a moment to look at them. Eurymachus, the cowardly one. “Hey, [name], let us talk about this! I never once went out of my way to hurt you nor Telemachus, I always payed my due respects to her majesty. It was Antinous that-“

“Lead you and your fellow scum in the plan to execute my betrothed in secret.” You said with a sneer, throwing the axe at his head. It flew past the torch, the push of wind blowing it out as the man in front of you fell to the floor. He met the floor with a loud thump, his remains now nothing but another body in the landscape of corpses in the room. You moved to pull the axe out of his head with more aggression than needed before leaving. His words irritated you to no end, the man was nothing but an idle fool who made the choice of inaction. Never once did he try to stop his fellow suitors from tormenting Telemachus, never once has he tried to lessen all the resources they waste, never once did he leave when Telemachus ordered them. None of them did.

You let out a sigh as you walked through the hallways. Where exactly was Telemachus? And where was Odysseus? They most likely passed through this area already, if the bodies everywhere said anything. The father son duo was probably closer to the courtyards of the palace outside where the suitors must have fled towards. Either that or the pack of meatheads ran towards their weapon supply. You guessed it was the latter and promptly made your way through the familiar halls, passing by familiar faces on the floor that will never be missed. Surprisingly enough you couldn’t find any signs of struggle during battle. Nothing but the light of torches fallen on the floor could light up the scene, the moon and stars never daring to gaze upon the massacre. Bodies upon bodies were piled up in a gruesome display of vengeance with a vile stench that made your nose wrinkle in disgust, and yet each and every one of them only had an arrow to the head or chest to blame for their demise. No bruising nor cuts of a blade, only a lone arrow on each suitor. It was only after a long time of walking did the bodies slowly lessen in numbers, but still remained ever present. A silent reminder of the ruthless monster that lurked in these dark halls.

Your head turned towards the sound of metal blade against metal blade just to your right. Carefully peeking over the edge, your eyes widened at the sight of Telemachus fighting a suitor on his own. The light of a fallen torch reflected the glint of a knife in the darkness. Your grip on your axe tightened and you swung at the knife wielder without hesitation. The suitor’s screams were drowned by his own blood pouring out of his mouth, your axe lodged into his throat. Looking behind you, a surprised suitor was stabbed from behind, his blood coating the rest of the blade that pierced through him. The sword was pulled out and the suitor fell to the floor, revealing Telemachus behind him. “[name]? What are you doing here?” He asked as he looked around as if worried anyone might be eavesdropping. “Did you really think word of your suitor hunt wouldn’t get out? Tele, the entire palace could hear the screams of terror.” You replied as you rested your axe on your shoulder. “Of course I didn’t think we’d be able to hide a mass genocide! What I’m asking is why you came here after learning about a giant fight-“ He paused mid sentence, and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was staring at you with the most unimpressed expression you’ll ever see. You barely tried to hide your amused snickering as he rolled his eyes at you. “You know what? I retract my statement. The fight was all the reason you needed to come here, wasn’t it.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Actually, not really. At least, it wasn’t the only reason.” You said you stared directly into his eyes that reflected the ever dancing light of the torch. The flame flickered, going from bright to dark and back within seconds. You could barely see Telemachus, but you poured every bit of attention you had into listening to Telemachus go from unamused to curious. “Really? Then what was it?” He asked as you smiled. “I’m looking right at it.” Telemachus looked around once more, but this time to find what you were staring directly at rather than look for hidden dangers. “Wha? But the only thing you’re looking at is… Oh.” You didn’t even try to hide your amusement this time, bursting out into a fit of howling laughter at his flushed face. “Really? Do you have to tease me even in the middle of battle?” You shoved your face right in front of his, mere inches away. “Yeah, cause you haven’t told me to stop yet.”

“Euryalus, he locked the rest of our weapons in one of the rooms! These are the only ones we have, none of us could open it up-“ Telemachus looked towards the group of new suitors, who immediately drew their weapons at the sight of the both of you. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath, you were kinda having a moment here. With much annoyance your stance changed from relaxed and playful with your axe on your shoulder, to a defensive battle stance with your weapon at the ready. Even with Telemachus, you could only handle so many suitors. “Hey Tele, remember what I told you about hunting wild hogs?” You asked as he looked at you incredulously. “Aim for the area around the shoulder or the head? [name], what does this have to do with anything-“ You cut him off with a mischievous grin barely lit by the torch. “Exactly. I suggest you aim for the chest since you’re too short for their heads.” You could practically see the gears turning in his head before he opened his mouth in a baffled offense.

You charged forwards to the four suitors, stepping on the torch and putting it out as you ran. You moved to the side of the group and swung your axe at the outermost member. He blocked your axe, and at the same time you heard the clash of metal from the other side of the group. You could barely see anything, but you recognized the silhouette of Telemachus fighting off the other two suitors. Another suitor came up from behind the one in front of you to aim his sword at your side. You pushed the sword blocking your axe downwards to block the other suitor’s sword, before pushing both of them off. Spinning around, you hit the head of the first suitor you attacked with your axe, killing them. The sight of another sword in the corner of your eye made your breath hitch, it was far too close for you to move away and turn around to block. You still tried to pull up your axe to block it, and a spray of blood passed by your view. By the time you were fully turned around to face your attacker, they were clutching their hand in pain. Or more like their lack of one. In front of you stood Telemachus, sword in hand as he charged forward, stabbing the suitor in their chest while they were writhing in pain. “[name], what did I say about minding your surroundings!” Telemachus said concerned as the suitor died and joined the rest of them on the floor. “Hey, it turned out okay in the end. He’s dead and I’m alive, I’ll be fine-“

A large thud behind you made you jump, and you slowly turned around with your axe held up. “You know, my son is right. If neither of us were here, you’d be another body on the floor.” You blinked and stared at the man before you. “Father!” Telemachus gasped from behind you. Oh. OH. “Odysseus?” You asked bewildered. He was a lot shorter than you expected. Now you know why Telemachus was shorter than all the men his age and you while his mother still towered over everyone in the room. He nodded with a gentle smile. “And you’re the [name] my son has so fondly told me about.” He said as he drew back his bow. You looked back at Telemachus and you both made eye contact, before you looked at Odysseus. “Wait, what? He talks about me? Wait, what did he say? Tele, you better not have told your father about the sand incident.” You heard him stifle a small chuckle, and you whipped around to gasp at him with all the exasperation you could manage. “You did not!”

“I did.” He said unapologetically. You stared at him in betrayal, jaw dropped before turning back to Odysseus. “Hey, your majesty, did you know that before I got with your son he trained Argos to run at me so he could pretend like he accidentally let him loose to make an opportunity to talk with mMMFFF!” Telemachus slapped his hand onto your mouth as you struggled against his arm. “I did not do that, she’s lying.” He said indignantly as Odysseus stared at the two of you amused. You shoved at Telemachus’s wrist while you both physically struggled against each other. You saw him eyeing your hand on his wrist and you looked at him sternly. “Don’t you even dare- OW!” The madlad bit your hand and you pulled away from him, your bodies detaching from one another. “You menace.” You said as he shoved his face into yours, mere inches away like you were mere moments ago. For a moment, he just stared at you and you stared back at him. It was like all the emotional intensity that was interrupted before was returning full force, a shameless rush of affection like a raging river. You’ve always been told by Penelope that there were moments between her and Odysseus that felt like time stopped, when they looked into their eyes and saw love for eternity in each other. But right now, you felt nothing close to that. It was like time was rushing past you with no end, quick and intense. Every small detail blurred together into Telemachus, and in his eyes you saw the life you have right now.

“Telemachus, I know little to nothing about you, and even less about [name], but I see the same love I have for your mother in you, and I see the same love Penelope has for me in [name].” You both stared at him, hands that had intertwined subconsciously squeezing tightly. Telemachus looked over to you, and once again you saw not just your life in his eyes, but yours and his. “I approve of this one.” Your lover blinked in sync with you. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said how much you loved it when she stood up for you before you got the courage to fight Antinous?” Telemachus stared at his father and after a beat of silence, screeched with embarrassment. “FATHER, DON’T-“ You looked at Odysseus with a devious grin, and began to explain every single Argos incident while Telemachus hid his face in your neck.

[fear-is-truth]

# SUGAR DADDY! BRUCE WAYNE — hc

synopsis — your life as bruce wayne’s sugar baby warnings — suggestive. mdni a/n — if law school doesn’t work out… this is my dream career lol (exclusively bruce wayne)

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

he’s strict about keeping things low-profile. no selfies, no pictures together, and definitely no talking to anyone about your arrangement. but when it’s just the two of you, behind closed doors, though, his edges softened—not soft soft, of course, but as close as bruce wayne could ever get.

bruce is every inch the gentleman when he’s out with you—always placing his hand on the small of your back when guiding you through a crowd or escorting you to his car, a subtle but firm gesture that says, you’re mine, and i’m looking after you. he opens doors for you without fail, pulls out your chair at restaurants, and always walks on the street side of the sidewalk, even if it means switching places mid-walk. if you’re wearing heels, he keeps a steadying hand at your waist when you go down stairs.

even in private, he’s super thoughtful—draping a blanket over you when you’re curled up on the couch, pressing a kiss to your temple as he passes by.

bruce isn’t overly affectionate in public, but in private, he’s tactile and tender. he’ll pull you onto his lap while he works at his desk, one arm wrapped around your waist as his free hand taps at his keyboard. “just stay here,” he’ll say when you try to move. “you’re not distracting me.” though the way his lips find your neck every few minutes says otherwise.

bruce values your mind as much as your beauty, and he shows it in the way he engages you. whether you’re discussing a book, a piece of art, or the nuances of history, he listens with genuine interest. when he occasionally challenges your points, it’s never in that dismissive, mansplaining tone that most self-assured men use—it’s thoughtful and designed to draw out your best arguments.

he’s particular about keeping things convenient for you, so he’s arranged for you to have access to one of his apartments in the city. it’s fully furnished, with a stocked fridge, top-of-the-line security, and a walk-in closet he keeps replenishing with new outfits.

bruce’s love language is acts of service and quality time, but his wealth makes gift-giving his default.

has alfred handle all the logistics of getting you the best: tickets to exclusive shows, reservations at restaurants you didn’t even know existed, and private shopping appointments where he foots the bill without a batting an eye.

sends you on luxurious trips during your breaks—paris, tokyo, the maldives. you’re not sure how he pulls it off without anyone finding out, but bruce wayne always has his ways.

he pays attention to your interests and hobbies, subtly encouraging you to indulge. if you mention liking a certain author, musician or a brand, you’ll find their newest release or collection waiting for you the next day.

leaves his black card with you whenever he has to leave on business. “buy yourself something nice,” he says like you don’t already have everything you could possibly want.

bruce has an almost masochistic appreciation for how deeply you affect him. when you tease him. the first time you call him daddy, it’s in that girlish, playful tone, meant to test how far he’d let you get away with. bruce freezes for a millisecond, his face carefully blank, but the dark glint in his eyes gives him away. he exhales slowly, but the extra time he spends adjusting his cufflinks is a tell—you’ve gotten under his skin.

has a love-hate relationship with the short, tight skirts you wear around him. on one hand, he can’t deny how much they drive him mad, how his eyes inevitably linger on the curve of your ass, like he’s entertaining the idea of ripping the skirt off. on the other hand, he hates the idea of anyone else seeing you like that. he’ll chide you in that authoritative tone of his, maybe even smacking your pert ass for extra emphasis (when in private)

despite the chastising, the next day, he’ll gift you a collection of couture skirts and dresses that fit his exacting standards—form-fitting but elegant, sexy but understated. if you insist on being a distraction, you’ll do it his way.

he loves when you wear his clothes—especially his shirts. seeing you in something oversized and smelling faintly of sex and his cologne drives him insane. but he also loves taking it off you.

he’s not above making you jealous, though it’s very rare. if he senses you’ve been a little too independent lately, he’ll let a socialite or two flirt with him at a party just to see your reaction. when you glare at him from across the room, he’ll flash that infuriatingly charming smile and mouth, “come here.” the second you’re alone, he’ll have you pressed tightly against the wall. “you know there’s no one else for me,” he mutters between hot kisses. “but i like seeing you fight for it.”

has an infuriating habit of teasing you in public, keeping you just on the edge of propriety. he’ll whisper filthy things in your ear during a black-tie gala, his hand resting on your thigh under the table. “be good for me,” his thumb grazes discreetly beneath the hem of your dress, and when your cheeks heat up, he just smirks and kisses the spot beneath your ear.

the car rides are his favourite indulgence. he tells the chauffeur to take the long way home, windows darkened, privacy partition up, while fucking you in every position possible.

has a weakness for seeing you in pieces he’s chosen himself. the delicate lace, silk, and satin he picks out always feel indulgent, tailored to fit your body and his preferences. he leaves boxes for you to find, with a note in his neat handwriting: this one tonight

he buys you diamond necklaces and earrings so extravagant they could rival museum pieces. every time, he insists you model them for him—alone, in the privacy of his bedroom. “just the necklace,” he’ll say with a smirk, his tone leaving no room for argument. the sight of you standing there, bare except for the glittering gems, leaves him utterly speechless. and then he’ll step closer, eyes trailing over the diamonds on your neck before his hands wander elsewhere.

sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly indulgent, bruce will forgo sleep altogether just to spend the night making love with you.

he’s a perfectionist in every aspect of his life, including the bedroom. he’s meticulous about learning what makes you tick, and takes immense pride in knowing your body better than you do. precisely which spots make you gasp, which areas make you arch your back. steady and precise, he’s always tuning in to your reactions. he doesn’t rush, taking his time to explore, kiss, and touch in a way that makes you feel completely cared for.

he can go for hours, but he’s patient, too. enjoying the process as much as the end result—taking his time to kiss, to touch, to indulge in every inch of your body.

bruce is insatiable, but he’s also deeply considerate. though he’s always hungry for you, there’s never a moment where he isn’t attuned to your needs, making sure you’re enjoying yourself, always ready to slow down or adjust if you need him to.

loves leaving marks on your body, but he’s careful about where—always hidden, tiny traces of his presence on your skin that only he gets to see.

still, when he notices you wince as you shift in your seat, he puts on a somewhat sheepish expression, offering a murmured, “sorry about that.” but you can see the faint smirk gracing his lips, the flicker of pride in his eyes. it’s all a front—he’s anything but apologetic.

he watches you drift off in his arms, your breathing steady and soft, the rise and fall of your chest lulling him into a rare moment of peace. his lips brush against your bare shoulder, the small gesture as fleeting as the thought that follows—he doesn’t deserve you—but he’s selfish enough to keep you anyway.

tagging — @suumaer

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi!! I was hoping I could request a fic where the reader is clumsy as fuck.

And when Bucky and reader go on their first date, he notices bruises scattered over the reader and gets worried that someone in their life is hurting them. Which reader insist, "no I'm safe I'm just clumsy as shit" which he's heard too many times before so he remains unsure.

BUT as the dates go on, he begins to realise just how honest they were being. Hes constantly having to stop the reader from walking into poles and tables, he's catching things before they can hit the ground (including the reader), and when they come home he kisses all their bruises or marks.

And when they finally are becoming more intimate, he's scared of bruising/ hurting the reader and they have to convince him that they aren't made of glass and to just go for it.

Not Made Of Glass » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets worried when sees bruises on you and you assure him that you’re just clumsy.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of implied Smut (18+), language, clumsy!reader, bruises (not abuse), kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

You and Bucky are on yours and his first date. As you were telling him about yourself, Bucky couldn’t help but notice that you have a couple bruises on your arm and one on your shoulder. It worried him. He’s starting to think that someone gave you those bruises.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you.” Bucky apologizes politely. “How did you get those bruises?” He asks curiously.

“Oh, those? My friend’s son was trying to teach me how to skateboard, but I ended up falling and that’s how I got these.” You explained.

The thought of someone abusing you lingered in his mind.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“Of course I am.” You replied.

“Is someone hurting you, doll?” He asks, keeping his voice low so no one heard him.

“No, I’m safe. I’m just clumsy as shit.” You say with an assuring smile.

Bucky smiles back. He still couldn’t help but let that suspicion linger around in his mind. He’s heard that one too many times.

“The only reason why I asked is because I want to make sure you’re safe.” He says softly.

“You’re sweet to care and worry, Bucky.” You smiled. “Those are my two favorite qualities I like in a man.” You say, sipping your drink.

“If someone is hurting you, I’d make sure that won’t happen ever again.” He says.

You knew what he meant when he said that. You also know he said it to protect you. That’s another quality you like in a man. You and Bucky are going to get along just fine.

You invited Bucky out for coffee the following morning. You walked in the coffee shop, smiling when you saw Bucky. You were so happy to see Bucky again that you didn’t notice the chair next to you and you ran into it. Bucky looked up from the newspaper he was reading to see you moving a chair out of your way.

“Are you ok?” Bucky asks.

“Yes. I just didn’t see the chair.” You say with a small giggle.

You gave Bucky a kiss on his cheek before ordering coffee and sat down at the table across from him. You crossed your leg over the other. Bucky found another bruise, but this time, on your shin. It’s a little bit bigger compared to the ones on your arm and shoulder.

“What happened to your leg?” Bucky asks, pointing at the bruise on your shin.

“I walked into a tow hitch on a pickup truck a couple days ago.” You tell him honestly.

The suspicion of something abusing you is still on his mind, but he also believes your honesty. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious and suspicious of something, right?

A few days later, Bucky asked you out on another date. He went over to your house to pick you up. You invited him inside while you finished up getting ready. Bucky looked around your house, admiring the pictures and decorations.

“I’m ready!” You announced with a smile.

Bucky smiles, admiring your beauty and outfit. He winces to himself as you walked into the doorframe, hitting your arm on it as you were walking out of your bedroom.

That looked like it hurt.” Bucky says.

“Only a little bit, but I’m ok.” You say.

“May I?” He asks softly.

You nodded. Bucky gently lifted your arm up to his lips, kissing the red mark that will soon be a bruise on the side of your arm. You couldn’t help but blush when he did that.

“You’re really sweet, you know that?” You say with a smile.

“I care about you is all, doll.” He says softly.

“I care about you too, Bucky.” You say in almost a whisper.

Bucky gently caressed your cheek and kissed you softly and sweetly. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You’ve never been this mind blown by a kiss in your life.

“Woah…” You say, completely speechless when he pulled away.

Bucky smiles at the speechless expression on your face.

“You ready to go?” He asks softly.

“More than ready.” You answered with a smile.

When you and Bucky got to the restaurant, he’s starting to realize that you’re right about being a clumsy person. You almost walked into a table and he gently moved you away from it so you didn’t give yourself another bruise.

“Careful, doll.” Bucky whispers.

“I am being careful.” You say softly, kissing his cheek.

Over the next few weeks, you and Bucky went on dates every weekend. In those weeks, Bucky has been moving you away from things like tables or poles before you walked into them so you didn’t hurt yourself. Today, Bucky tagged along with you while you ran errands. Bucky swore he ages 10 years every time you run into something or almost run into something.

“Wanna get coffee?” You asked, pointing at the coffee shop across the street.

“Sure.” Bucky answers.

You and Bucky looked both ways before crossing the street. When you guys got to the other side of the street, you tripped over the curb and Bucky caught you before you fell.

“Are you ok, doll?” He asks softly.

“I am now.” You smiled up at him.

You guys went inside of the coffee shop. You somehow tripped over your own feet. Bucky grabbed your arm before you fell.

“I think it’s time to go home.” He says.

“But I want coffee.” You pouted.

You pouting is one of Bucky’s many weaknesses. He can’t say no to you when you pout.

“Ok, fine.” He gives in.

You squeaked softly and kissed his cheek. To keep you from running into anything, Bucky put his hands on your waist and guided you to the counter to order coffee. You two got coffee and then went home.

“You know what to do, doll.” Bucky says.

Bucky now kisses every bruise you get. You took your -Bucky’s- sweatshirt off and rolled your pant legs up, revealing the few bruises you got over the past couple days. You smiled as you watched him kiss each bruise on your arms softly. You then sat down on the couch and he crouched down in front of you and kissed the couple bruises you have on your legs and one on your knee.

“I love how much you care about me.” You say softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s part of my job as your boyfriend to care about you, doll.” Bucky says, sitting down next to you on the couch.

“You want to be my boyfriend?” You asked.

“Only if you want to be my girlfriend.” He says.

“I want nothing more than to be your girlfriend, Bucky.” You say with a smile.

Bucky smiles and kisses you. The kiss got heated quickly. You two fell back against the couch. He put his weight on his forearms so he didn’t crush you. You wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you.

“You know, I don’t mind if you lay on top of me.” You say.

“I know. I just don’t want to hurt you in any way.” He says.

“You can never hurt me, baby.” You almost whispered, running your fingers through his hair.

“I just want to be cautious.” He says.

“I’m not made of glass, you know.” You say.

“I know.” He mumbles softly. “I love you so much and don’t like seeing you get hurt.” He says.

“I love you too.” You pecked his lips softly. “I won’t mind if you’re a little bit rough with me in the bedroom.” You say seductively.

Bucky leans his forehead against your shoulder and groans softly, dirty thought flowing into his mind.

“There’s safe words for a reason, baby.” You whispered in his ear.

A shiver went down his spine when you kissed just below his ear, a soft moan leaving his lips.

“Fuck…” Bucky moans softly.

Bucky stood up and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom. An excited squeal left your lips. He gently laid you down on the bed and got on top of you.

“You’ll use a safe word if I’m too rough on you?” He asks just to be sure, rubbing the tops of your thighs.

“Yes.” You answered with a smile.

“You’re in for a long night, babydoll.” He almost whispers.

“Bring it on, baby.” You say softly, bitting your bottom lip.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[kuromochimi]

baby I’m nothing like your broke ex

gojo satoru, nanami kento

Content warnings: mentions of past toxic relationships, not proof read

🔜 suguru geto, kamo choso, higuruma hiromi

Gojo Satoru

Satoru was rich. Like rich RICH. You first noticed this the moment you met him when you spilled coffee on his shirt then offered to buy him a new one instead. Instant regret when you realized that his shirt was worth more than your entire closet combined.

Being in a relationship with him was… well it was an adjustment. You lived a fairly simple life before you met him. It wasn’t a bad life. You still got to spend on your wants here and there but you had to budget such things much like any other common person had to. On the other hand, the word budget was non-existent to satoru especially when it came to you. He quite literally gave you everything. A few weeks into the relationship though, he had noticed how reluctant you were to accept his presents. You didn’t seem uncomfortable, just.. reluctant. He toned down a bit after this realization. But god he just couldn’t figure out why you were almost unwilling to accept anything at all from him, even food, even a ride home, even his hoodie which he already said you could keep. “Baby” he called to which you responded by looking his way. “Why do you never want to accept my presents?” He asked before he got up to approach you, immediately hugging you from the back as soon as you were within reach. “Hmm it’s not that I don’t want to.. it’s just.. you have to let me get used to these things first, okay?” satoru raised his brow “baby I know that shitty ex of yours can’t come close to how much I spoil you but was he that stingy?” at first satoru was only joking but your silence meant it was probably true. “So he was?” He asked as his chin was resting on your shoulder. “Come on satoru, he’s a thing of the past. He doesn’t matter anymore, ‘kay?” You tried your best to steer away from having to tell your boyfriend in detail but he’s right. Your ex was stingy as hell. It’s not like you ever asked for anything too much in fact, you don’t ever remember asking for anything at all. All the times he had to pick you up, he asked for gas money which seemed fair enough but it wasn’t just that. The man loved going on and extravagant dates but was never willing to fish out more than gas money. He adored receiving presents from you but could never be bothered to get you even the cheapest flowers. He used to say that he was just saving up to be able to give you the life you deserve but 8 years of having to sustain the luxurious lifestyle of a bum just made you snap hence, the break up. Satoru’s tightening embrace woke you from that little flashback. “Okay baby, I’ll make sure to spoil you but don’t hesitate to tell me if I go overboard hm? Love you” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and god, you felt so lucky to have found such a good man.

Nanami Kento

It quite literally took years of yearning for nanami to be finally able to date you. He was your junior in university and your junior at work as well. All that time, he had to witness you be head over heels for your then boyfriend, another one of his seniors. He thought the man might have put a spell on you because for the love of god, he could not see what kept you with the jerk for so long. Having observed your relationship from when he was a college freshman up to when he was a work colleague, your ex never even tried to mask how selfish he was with you. The man dawned expensive watches and drove a not so cheap car, he loved going to expensive places with his friends but with you? He wouldn’t hesitate to pass you the bill (like 85% of the time) whenever you went on dates, bought you nothing but cheap jewelry and quality reject flowers just because they were cheaper. Even worse, he also let you take the crowded train home everyday despite him driving to and from work everyday. He just couldn’t be bothered to pick you up because your workplace was “too far” and gas was expensive. If he really was struggling, it wouldn’t have been a problem but any person could see that he was more than capable of treating you better. He just didn’t want to.

Dating nanami was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like you were materialistic in the first place but receiving pretty flowers and having someone make sure you’s comfortable and safe felt so heartwarming. On top of that, nanami didn’t make it feel like he was obligated to do any of that. He just genuinely wanted to care for you. It was all new to you that you even had to ask him to stop spoiling you too much, you felt bad accepting all that he was giving. “I know you don’t need them and I know you’re capable but let me do these things for you, hm?” Was what he’d always say and despite bot being able to voice it out to him yet, there is so much love in you knowing that it was possible to be treated this way. With so much care and love and concern.

[deadsetobsessions]

Gothic mushroom shaped candles. Danny picked one up, grinning. Sam would have love these on her alters. Very Sam, very Gotham.

It a bit bittersweet, now that he could think of her without being paralyzed by crushing grief. Her and Tucker both. Danny turned, keeping an eye on Tim as he glared into the case of used cameras.

Danny walked over and tried not to feel guilty about practically mooching off of a child. Even if the money he was using was actually the Drakes’.

“Like anything you see?”

Tim shook his head. Danny pondered over what little he knew of photography- all of which he learned from documentaries that were more focused on nature.

“I think there might be a camera store a couple of blocks down. We could get the ones that takes photos of animals, like the really big ones that takes photos of wildlife?”

“I guess. I mean, I don’t need it since we can…” Tim glanced around suspiciously. Danny willed his mouth to not smile at Tim’s antics. “Fly close,” the kid finished in a whisper.

“Okay, but what about when I’m not there?”

Tim hunched up on himself and Danny despaired inwardly. Uh oh, what did he say now?”

“Are you going somewhere?” Tim quietly asked, sounding hurt and upset.

“No,” Danny soothed, patting Tim on the head. I mean, what if I’m busy with stuff but you want to go take pictures without me?”

“You said to go get you whenever I wanna go out to take pictures.”

“Okay, yeah, I- well, we might as well get you a quality camera, right? To take really really good pictures of the… local wildlife. Like… the birds and the bats, and all that.” Danny winked exaggeratedly.

Tim blinked and giggled when he got the joke. “Okay, as long as you’re staying!”

Danny grinned, fangs and all. “Of course.”

——

At the end of their shopping spree, generously provided and sponsored by the Drake family and their heavy black card, Danny got a phone and Tim got a wild life camera that was a whopping $4,000 but was compact enough to not look absolutely ridiculous.

“It’s heavy!” Tim whined, as he grinned like a loon.

“It’s quality,” Danny plopped the shopping bags on the island in one of the giant kitchens Drake manor had. “I’ll make dinner. You figure out those settings and you can tell me about it when we eat.”

“Okay!” Tim hummed excited, quick fingers and laser focus already aimed at his new device.

Danny picked up his new phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. As it rung, Danny held it up to his ear and began prepping the ingredients. At least

“Hello?” His sister’s cautious voice came through the phone. Danny’s shoulders relaxed.

“Heya, Jazz.” He could see Tim’s ears all but perk up in order to eavesdrop. His mouth quirked up in amusement and Danny turned away. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging that kind of behavior… but it was funny.

“Danny! Are you okay? I- I heard that they chased after you and I was worried sick! Are you safe? Any injuries? Do I need to pick you up?”

“I’m good. Promise. Not bleeding out or dying. It’s actually pretty nice right now,” Danny paused before turning back a little more so he could watch Tim’s reaction peripherally. “Hey, listen, can I adopt a little brother?”

He watched Tim sit up straighter eyed flickering up to him and back down again, a secretly pleased look on his face as he figured out that Danny was in fact talking about him.

“Danny, what the hell?” Jazz huffed, audibly relieved to know that Danny wasn’t on his merry way to becoming a full on ghost. “Who, why, and what kind of trouble did you get into now?”

“Hey, this was me getting out of trouble. Those people don’t even know where I escaped to. Tim helped me out a lot,” Danny said in the tone that meant ‘and there’s more to it but I can’t tell you right now.’

“His name’s Tim?”

“Yeah, you wanna say hi?”

Tim looked terrified as he heard Danny’s side of the conversation. Danny could relate.

“Alright. But you’re explaining everything later, got it?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Danny turned to Tim, abandoning the peas he was shelling and rinsing off his hand to hold the phone.

“Tim, my sister, Jazz, wants to say hi. Are you cool with that?”

“Uhm! Yeah! Yeah, sure.” Tim, honest to ancients, squeaked. Danny’s enhanced hearing could pick up Jazz’s already melting heart. He taped a button.

“Jazz, you’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Tim. I’m Jazz. Thanks for taking care of my little brother!”

“Uh, hi, Jazz! I’m Timothy Drake! And, uh, you’re welcome! Anytime!”

Tim glanced at Danny for reassurance, relaxing a bit when the halfa threw him a double thumbs up.

Jazz went quiet.

“Jazz, you good?” Danny asked.

“We’re adopting him. Danny, you better make sure knows about everyone. Hi, Tim, I’m Jazz, your new big sister.”

“Uh- I have parents.”

“That can be fixed,” Jazz casually brushed off. Tim looked like a deer in headlights, so Danny took his sister off speaker and went back to cooking. He made sure to smile at Tim.

“Don’t worry, we won’t adopt you if you don’t want to. But it wasn’t a joke, we’re very serious.”

“I’ll think about it?”

Danny shrugged. “Good enough for me.”

“So, where are you?” Jazz asked him, rustling coming through on the phone.

“Gotham.”

“You are so fucking lucky I love you, dumbass. I’ll be there tomorrow at noon.”

“Playing hooky, are you?”

“Fuck off, little brother, before I show Tim your toddler pictures.”

“Thanks, Jazz.”

“Bye, Danny. Don’t get killed again when I’m not there, got it?”

“Sure, sure.”

Danny smiled and returned to his agenda of stuffing as many vegetables into one meal as he can. At least the food isn’t trying to tear out his face.

——

Robin hasn’t heard the eerie giggles around lately, but he’s been practicing his own. It’s weird though, because there’s always a glint of something in the corner of his eyes.

“Robin, muggers.”

“On it, B. Shall we, Batgirl?”

“Let’s go, Boy Wonder.”

[expia]

creepy boyfie yuta!!! [ I love yandere yuta ☺️☝️]

Creepy boyfie!yuta who makes you stay on ft with him all day if you can’t see each other

Creepy boyfie!yuta who “jokingly” talks about locking you in his basement if you ever leave

Creepy boyfie!yuta who put up secret cameras in your apartment just so he can keep an eye on you

Creepy boyfie!yuta who texts you to ask wyd knowing damn well he’s stalking the cameras

Creepy boyfie!yuta who is more interested in watching you instead of the movie on date nights

Creepy boyfie!yuta who you don’t even think is creepy yes insecure and maybe unhealthily obsessed but not creepy

It was a quiet, cozy evening in Y/N’s apartment, the kind where the world outside could’ve been a million miles away. The lights were dimmed, and the only source of illumination came from the TV screen, flickering with the opening credits of a rom-com Y/N had been dying to watch.

Y/N was nestled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, with a bowl of popcorn resting on her lap. Yuta sat beside her, casually draped in a hoodie and sweatpants, his arm resting along the back of the couch behind her, just a little too close—though Y/N didn’t mind. She loved it when he was close.

“So, this movie’s supposed to be really cute, right?” Y/N said with a smile, glancing over at Yuta, who was already watching her, his gaze soft but unwavering.

“Yeah, but not as cute as you,” Yuta replied smoothly, nudging her lightly. His voice had that tender, teasing quality she adored.

Y/N rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “You’re so corny.”

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss the top of her head. “But you love it.”

The movie began, and the two of them settled in, comfortable in the silence, only interrupted by the occasional giggle from Y/N or a quiet comment from Yuta about the movie's predictability.

But, in the middle of a particularly dramatic scene, Yuta suddenly stood up.

“I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom,” he said, stretching a little too dramatically, as if to draw attention to his exit.

Y/N didn’t think anything of it. She was far too engrossed in the movie’s over-the-top romance to notice anything odd. “Okay, hurry back. I’m about to see how this one ends!”

Yuta smiled softly, his eyes narrowing for a split second as he turned away. He had something else in mind.

As he stepped out of the living room, he made his way down the hall to where his phone was charging on the nightstand. His fingers hovered for a moment before unlocking the screen.

There it was.

The hidden camera feed he had set up earlier that week—four small, discreet lenses placed around her apartment, capturing every corner of the living room. He never let her know about them, of course. She’d never suspect something so intrusive, especially when he’d always been so sweet and loving.

Yuta’s heart rate picked up as he clicked through the various feeds on his phone. On the screen, he could see her sitting on the couch, staring intently at the TV, popcorn resting idly in her lap, her expression one of pure joy as she watched the movie.

Yuta couldn’t help but grin. He liked watching her like this. He liked seeing how relaxed and content she was, how at peace.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her—it was more that he simply wanted to always be part of her world. Even when he wasn’t physically there beside her, he wanted to be sure she was happy, safe, and… all his.

With a soft sigh, he leaned back against the wall, watching the feed for a little longer, his eyes flicking from one camera to the other. Her every movement, every shift of her posture, was like a personal performance meant just for him. He adored it.

He let the feeling of possessive affection settle inside him, but not in a way that felt bad—just in the way lovers might feel when they can’t imagine life without the other. In his mind, they were already living their perfect future, and this was just a small part of it.

[iwantazzifudd]

Hi friends, this is my first ever attempt at writing anything here and it’s a Pazzi oneshot, I’m honestly nervous that it’s bad but I’ve been inspired 🤗 it’s also my first attempt at any fiction writing in general and why was this actually a bit difficult?!

PaigexAzzi fluff

Surprise!

Paige was trying her best to not freak out about the lack of messages from Azzi today but it was just so odd.. they always spoke and made time for each other even when the had to be away.

Paige tried to tell herself that Az was probably just busy, but she couldn’t help but pace around her room wondering if she did something wrong. Or worse, wondering if Azzi met a cooler California girl during her brief trip to the state.

She knew that she was irrational to think that way but just as she started to get out of her head and message her girlfriend, she realized that Azzi had stopped sharing her location, and that’s what officially sent Paige over the edge. She couldn’t tell if she should be sad or angry, so she chooses the latter and makes it the rest of her teammates problems.

Kk, Ice and Sarah had all agreed to stay over for the week Azzi would be gone to give Paige some company, and to spend some quality time with the older girl. Today though they maybe regretting staying the entire week. When The blonde stepped out of her room the girls immediately realized something was wrong, and they shared a worried look.

“Hey boogers everything alright” KK asked hesitantly, scared of making Paige even more upset. “Peachy.” Paige responded shortly. “All of you do me a favor and check Azzi’s location” this request just made the other girls even more worried. “Mm looks like she turned it off” and when ice saw the look in Paige’s eye she immediately regretted being the one to answer.

Paige nodded, nervously nibbling at lip in response. “Where the hell is she at?” the crack in her voice betrayed the cold front she tried to put on. Inside her mind was on a rampage tossing over ideas of where the curly haired girl may be and why she needed to be so secretive.

Saying nothing else to her teammates, she grabbed a jacket and headed out of the apartment. Needing some space, some air, anything to get her mind off of Azzi.

It’s not that she didn’t trust her girlfriend, in fact if there was any person in the world she could trust with her life it would be Azzi. She just couldn’t help but think the worse, and Azzi having not messaged her back in hours didn’t help her case.

…

Azzi, not knowing what her best friend was going through, was thrilled on the other hand. She was so excited to surprise Paige a few days early. With them being on the same team and seeing each other at almost every moment surprises were impossible so Azzi had to make sure Paige didn’t see this one coming. ‘I don’t see why she’d check my location anyway’ the girl thought to herself (though she knew that Paige frequently did) , so she turned it off and got on her long flight back without a second thought.

It had barely been 4 days since Azzi had seen her girlfriend but she just couldn’t wait any longer.

She had to fly out to LA for a new very impressive shoe deal with Steph Curry, doing all types of shoots and interviews for her favorite NIL deal yet. It meant more than just a simple deal to her though with Steph being a great mentor, she had little to no trouble agreeing to designing her own shoe.

But throughout the whole thing as special as it may of been Azzi just wanted to fly back to her girlfriend. 4 mornings not spent waking up in Paige’s arms was way too much for her.

She called the blonde everyday she was gone, and honestly she would talk to her every second if she could, but she was always worried about being too clingy and scaring Paige away, although there was no way that’d ever happen.So on the fifth day Azzi didn’t call Paige, she kept their texts short and tried to stay patient, knowing that she’d be back home with her early that morning.She got on her flight and dreamed about Paige the whole way through. Although two days early wasn’t much she was longing to see her beautiful girlfriend.

…

Distracting herself from thoughts of Azzi had proven to be impossible. She saw the peoples princess in everything, even the soft breeze of wind made her think of the long walks they’d take filled with lingering touches. She thought of the way the brown eyed girls hair danced in the wind, and the pink tint her cheeks took in the cold. Azzi was in everything. And how could she not be? When you know someone so purely, so closely for 8 years they become everywhere.

She just wish she knew where Azzi was at, anything to clear her thoughts. When she sent a few more texts, and even a call or a few to be clear, that went to voicemail she finally let the emotions take over. She knew she was over reacting just a bit but this just wasn’t them. Paige knows her girlfriend better than any one. They never kept secrets from each other and always always, always gave reassurance to one another. So Paige just didn’t get it.

She walked her way back to the apartment building and instead of going to her room she decided to go into Azzi’s instead. Paige had a spare key to the place and made herself at home. Honestly most people thought it was strange that they still had different apartments considering the fact that they spent every night together anyway.

The blonde girl made her way to Azzi’s bed wanting nothing but to be enveloped in her scent. She was exhausted from thinking and most of all just really missed her girlfriend.

She sent the absent girl one last text before drifting to sleep.

P 💗💍: just tell me that we’re okay Az please.

…

When Azzi got of her flight at around 3 am she didn’t expect her phone to flood with notifications. She had received a total of 7 missed calls and god knows how many messages from her concerned girlfriend all during her flight.

P💗💍: Hey baby Ik you’re probably busy but call me soon k? I miss u

P💗💍: just saw your interview you looked so beautiful

P💗💍: what else u gotta do today bby??

P💗💍: wya??

P💗💍:Azzi?

P💗💍: dude and your locations off what am I supposed to think rn

P💗💍: you mad at me?

P💗💍: Az please baby it’s been hours and nothing, not even one text back

P 💗💍: just tell me that we’re okay Az please.

The last message is what really broke Azzi’s heart a bit. Paige was so upset. She didn’t know attempting a surprise would cause all of this. She even received numerous messages from her teammates about how Paige was doing.

“Shit” Azzi said to herself hoping that when Paige saw her she’d still be excited. The younger girl was mad at herself for not thinking this part through more and coming up with an excuse so her girlfriend could relax. She was even hurt for a moment that Paige implied she could be cheating, but even more than that she hated that Paige thought she did something wrong.

She had to get home quick.

…

When Azzi finally reached Paige’s apartment she wasn’t expecting to see her 3 teammates on the couch binge watching yellow jackets, but no Paige.

“Oh my gosh Azzi!!” Kk jumped up from her position on the couch oddly excited to see Azzi giving her a bear hug. “Hey KK” she giggled at the girls antics but she was disappointed that there was no Paige in sight. “Ugh finally we’re so glad you’re here Paige was panicking. Why are you back so early?” Ice asked. “Well I planned on surprising my girl but.. obviously there were some flaws in my execution” “where is she by the way” Azzi asked expectantly becoming worried at her girlfriend’s absence.

“Oh, um - so she sorta left on a walk earlier and hasn’t come back to the apartment” their third teammate Sarah chimed in.

“She what?? You guys?!” Azzi became frantic.

“And no one thought to check in on her, or see where she was at?” Azzi’s questions were only met with guilty stares from the eyes in front of her.

“Jesus” she rubbed her palm down her face.

“I’ll find her, love you guys” and she left to her apartment without a glance back to them.

She was shocked to find the door to her apartment unlocked, and her bedroom door slightly cracked open. She crept towards the door suddenly paranoid and slowly opened it. Her heart melted when she saw her stunning girlfriend cuddling a pillow on her side of the bed. She slipped in beside the girl setting the gifts she got her down, and whether she meant to or not, she fell asleep spooning her.

Azzi woke up before Paige and spent the time admiring her girlfriends face peacefully sleeping. The anticipation made it hard to be patient though and soon the curly haired girl found her self gently shaking Paige awake.

“Hi baby” Azzi whispered shyly as if they hadn’t woken up like this a million times now. “Is that really you Az?” Paige responded groggily. Azzi chose to respond to this by pressing feather light kisses all around the sleepy girls face.

Paige finally fully opening her eyes is shocked to see the person she loves most face to face with her “what’re you doing here so early” she whispered as if talking any louder would make Azzi disappear. “Just couldn’t resist you I guess” Azzi responded teasingly, a small smile spreading across her face. It was that smile that she could recognize anywhere, the one meant only for Paige and the soft moments they shared that fully woke Paige up and she reached for the girl desperately pulling her on top of her in a tight hug. She caught Azzi off guard but it only took a moment for the girls to melt into each other.

They stayed just like that holding each other for a long time, neither of them wanting the moment to end. Azzi finally broke the two apart and sat up straddling the blondes hips. Beaming down at her. Paige stared back in awe, at the same time realizing that the brown eyed girl was only acting weird the day before because she wanted to surprise her. “You’re such a dork” Paige said to her girlfriend but she couldn’t hide the smile stuck on her face.

“Shush you missed me” her Azzi responded teasingly leaning down so her face was closer to Paige’s.

“Says who” the blonde replied back with a glimmer in her blue eyes. “ says every part of you” Azzi said against her lips, connecting them in a deep kiss. It was the type that made Paige’s brain fuzzy as she drowned in everything Azzi. Azzi parted her lips letting Paige in and grinding down against her. Paige moaned into the girls mouth due to the friction. Her whole body heating up. She arched into Azzi desperate for more. The younger girl broke the kiss with knowing smirk, happy to be home.

[hotchnerwrites]

we NEED a part 2 to Olive Branch!! it was so so good, I loved the way you wrote it from hotch’s perspective

The Coffee Swap

◁ part one

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: SFW, mutual crushes, implied age gap if you really squint, no use of (y/n), reader uses (she/her), Rossi appears with sage advice, fluff, flirting, office romance lowkey

A/N: ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE 🙏

My requests are open. Send me stuff! Please read the rules before asking, and be advised there is a slight wait time right now. But I will post for sure. :)

Aaron had given you a pen.

That’s all it was supposed to be. A simple gesture. An ice-breaker for the initial tension. Something quality that said ‘you’re appreciated’ without overstepping professional boundaries. Something he knew for sure you’d like.

But your reaction to it had thrown him off. Something had clicked between you two then, something that suddenly made sense.

Aaron hadn’t felt this hopeful in a long, long time. 

So naturally, he’d been trying to act completely normal, which meant he was now spiralling into teenage-boy-with-a-hopeless-crush territory. He watched the door when he heard your voice, waiting for you to enter. Smiled when you walked past his office. Wondered how he could brighten up your day— more pens? No, perhaps you should finish this one first. Coffee refill? But that was your third cup of the day. Maybe the moon. That’d do it.

Getting caught up with how to impress you further was exactly how he found himself accidentally stealing your coffee.

In Aaron’s defence, he was tired. The team had gotten back at 3:00 am, and he was running on autopilot. He must have forgotten his travel mug because it wasn’t on the usual shelf in the break room. So he grabbed the identical one sitting there and took a sip before his brain could catch up. An understandable error.

And then Aaron choked. 

It was sweet. Too sweet. Like someone had emptied three tins of sugar into it. It’d be an affront to even call this coffee. This was… an abomination.

He coughed once, twice, then glared at the cup like it had betrayed him. And then, in dawning horror, he realised it wasn’t his cup at all.

“Damn it.”

He hurried back to the break room and sure enough— there you were, digging through the upper shelves like you were looking for treasure. Aaron froze in the doorway. An unfamiliar sensation took over him— nervousness?

You didn’t hear him at first, so he took a step inside.

“Hey—”

You spun around so fast you nearly knocked into the counter. Your eyes widened, and then you just froze.

Like a sheep spotting a wolf.

Not that he was the wolf. He hoped not. Shepherd? Maybe. Sheepdog? 

What??! 

What was he thinking? He didn’t know. His brain was short-circuiting—tripping over metaphors and good sense alike. Why couldn’t he just say hello like a normal person?

Say something, his brain urged. Something normal. Professional. Not ‘I drank your coffee and now I’m in love with you’.

“Oh,” you said eventually, voice quiet. Your hand was still mid-air, holding onto the cabinet. “Hi.”

You were staring at him. Your eyes were big and uncertain like you hadn’t expected him—like maybe you were just as thrown as he was. He wished that didn’t make his heart stutter.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh.” He held up the mug like it was evidence. “I think I accidentally took your coffee.”

Smooth. Real smooth.

You blinked. And then—to his absolute horror—you looked mortified. “Oh god. You drank it?”

“I did.”

“Was it…terrible?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say it was perfect, actually, because it was yours, and he would drink it ten thousand times more if it meant he got to see your nose scrunch like that. But instead, he choked out, “It was…unexpected.”

You pressed your lips together, clearly trying not to laugh, and Aaron could feel heat creeping up his neck. Great, really great. Now he was blushing like a teenager. At work.

“I had one just now and it was black. Bitter. I thought I was dying.”

That startled a laugh out of him. A real one. It slipped out before he could catch it, and your head jerked up at the sound.

You looked at him like he’d just spoken fluent dolphin.

He couldn’t stop watching the way your mouth tilted into something unsure like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to smile at him. Like you were trying to read him in real time. And suddenly, he wished he were easier to read. Easier to talk to. Less of a brick wall with a nice tie.

Why did this feel so difficult? He led a team of elite profilers. He testified in courtrooms. He’d faced down serial killers with nothing but a badge and a sharp tongue.

And yet here he was, overthinking every word that left his mouth. Because it was you. Because your voice went quiet when you talked to him, and your smile came a beat later like you were still figuring out if it was safe.

“I’m sorry,” you said, eyes soft with concern. “I didn’t mean to insult your taste.”

“No, it’s alright,” he said, still smiling. “Your coffee was…memorable.”

You relaxed, a little. He noticed your grip easing on the shelf. But you still looked like you wanted to flee. Aaron really should have left it there. But his mouth moved before his brain could think and he took perhaps the biggest risk of his life.

“I’m—uh—happy you liked the pen,” he said, almost too casually.

You blinked again. “Oh. I—I did. I do. I use it every day. It’s—it’s lovely.”

There was a shy honesty to your voice like you didn’t quite know how to say how much it meant to you. It did something warm and ridiculous to his chest.

“I’m glad,” he said softly. A little too fond.

You nodded, then excused yourself with a flustered smile and disappeared down the hall.

Aaron stayed rooted to the spot, heart hammering like he’d just been asked to prom.

“Well, well.”

Rossi’s voice cut in like a knife and Aaron nearly dropped the mug, fumbling to catch it mid-air.

“I was wondering what all that giggling was about,” Dave said, strolling into the room like he hadn’t just witnessed the most awkward crush exchange known to man.

Aaron gave him a warning look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Rossi said, reaching for his own coffee. “I’ve seen high schoolers flirt more subtly.”

“It wasn’t flirting,” Aaron muttered, looking anywhere but at him. The wall behind Rossi seemed very compelling. Maybe it held answers. Or an escape hatch.

“Sure,” Rossi said, sipping. “That’s why you’re smiling into a mug of sugar syrup.”

Aaron sighed. “She’s—young.”

“She’s not that young.”

“She works for me.”

“She also smiled like you’d hung the stars for her. Come on, Aaron. You’re not exactly Mr. Spontaneous, but even you can see the way she looks at you.”

Aaron didn’t answer.

Rossi’s voice dipped, just a touch more kind than usual. “She likes you,” he said. “You like her. Ask her out. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Aaron stared at the door you’d just exited from. He could still see the outline of your smile.

He already knew the worst that could happen. He’d lived it before.

But the best?

The best could be good. Something warm. Something new.

He looked down at the too-sweet coffee in his hand and huffed a quiet laugh, barely there, but real.

Maybe tomorrow, he’d bring two cups.

Just in case.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

can you write an OT8 x reader where the reader gets into an a bar fight with a few guys and she calls them?

(you dont have to make it very violent)

𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕤 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕗𝕦𝕟!

Warning: Angst/comfort, cursing, hate.

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Y/n knew that since she was out tonight most of her lovers would be awake waiting for her, so getting messages from the group weren't very shocking.

Minho: Text me or Chan when you're ready to go come home bbg.

Hyunjin: All the maknaes miss you but we put them to sleep. hahaha

Chan: Stay safe. Call if any one bothers you. I mean it.

Those were the last two messages from her boyfriends—sent that evening—that she read before quickly tapping out a reply and switching off her phone. The glow of the screen faded, and her attention shifted to one of her friends, Aeri, who was animatedly ordering drinks from the waiter, her laughter ringing out above the chatter of the bar.

She felt a twinge of guilt for shutting her boyfriends out, knowing the hangover was sure to hit her hard the next day, but she reminded herself that she needed this night out. Sure, she'd much rather be home, cozied up with them, sharing quiet moments and stolen kisses. Yet, a deeper part of her understood how long it had been since she'd spent quality time with her girls—Aeri, Charlotte, and Desi—who had been reaching out to her with messages filled with emojis and longing.

The trio had been her support system, her partners in crime, and it felt like ages since they'd laughed until their sides hurt or shared secrets over cocktails. She could see the excitement in Aeri's eyes, and the thought of those familiar faces filled her with warmth. They had missed her, and she had missed them too. Tonight was about reconnecting, about letting go of the weight of everyday life, even if it meant facing a brutal hangover the next morning.

It took them about eight rounds of shots, four cocktails, and two mocktails for Y/n to finally grasp just how intoxicated they all were. Desi hiccuped, her cheeks flushed, and gave Y/n a sly smile. “Y/nnie!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “Should we get another round?” Her giggle was infectious, prompting the rest of the girls to join in, laughter echoing around their corner of the bar.

Y/n couldn’t help but smile, but the reality of the situation hit her hard. “I think we need to get home now,” she replied, her tone slightly serious. “Leeknow is going to kill me, and Sun-hoo is definitely going to kill you when you get home.” She quickly waved over the waiter, hoping to end the night on a responsible note.

“NOOO! I’m going to miss you!” Charlotte pouted, her lower lip jutting out as she reached for Y/n’s hand. “Let’s take one more round! I know you’re going to be hibernating once you get home!”

Y/n felt her resolve weakening, the warmth of camaraderie pulling her back in. “Okay, one more round, but that’s it!” she relented, a laugh escaping her lips. In all honesty, she was already pretty far gone, and she knew there was no way she could drive home. So why not enjoy this moment a little longer?

Once she settled the bill—thanks to Changbin practically shoving his card into her hand—Y/n pulled out her phone to dial Chan’s number, knowing he was likely still awake. It only took one ring before his familiar voice came through, raspy from sleep. “Hello? Baby? You there?”

“H-hey Channie,” she slurred, struggling to get off the table while clutching her wallet tightly. Her friends were already heading toward the exit, and she could hear their giggles mingling with the bustling noise of the bar.

“Hey, babygirl? You okay? Need me to pick you up?” Chan asked, already sensing trouble. He was slipping out of bed, careful not to wake Han, who had been snuggled against his side.

“P-pleaseee,” she managed to reply, guilt washing over her. “I’m sorry for—”

“Aeri!” she heard Aeri squeal, drawing her attention just in time to see her friend stumbling and colliding with four guys standing on the pavement outside the bar.

“Aish! Omg!” Y/n sighed, watching as Charlotte and Desi rushed to help Aeri, who was apologizing profusely to the very annoyed group of guys.

“What happened?” Chan asked through the phone, grabbing his keys and heading toward Leeknow’s room to let him know he was heading out.

“One second, babe. Aeri just knocked over some guy’s drink, and he looks really mad,” Y/n explained, stepping closer to the chaotic scene unfolding in front of her.

“Don’t get too involved if they’re super drunk,” Chan warned, his stomach tightening with unease. He could already picture the scene and the potential for trouble, and his protective instincts kicked in. “Just keep an eye on her, okay?”

Y/n nodded, even though Chan couldn’t see her, focusing on smoothing things over with the group outside. She felt the weight of the night settling in, knowing she needed to keep her friends safe while also managing to navigate the rising tension.

“Watch where you’re going slut,” one of the guys grumbled, annoyance etched on his face.

“Excuse me?” Desi jumped in, her confidence shining through. “If you want a new drink, we can totally pay for it. No need to be rude!”

“All you girls do is come out to the bars, get super drunk, and ruin people’s nights,” he shot back, taking a step closer, making Desi feel a bit uneasy.

“We’re really sorry, sir! It won’t happen again,” Y/n said quickly, trying to keep the peace. She reached into her wallet and pulled out some cash. “Here, you can take this for your drink and dry cleaning, ”

“I don’t need your money, okay?” he snapped, swatting the cash from her hand. Y/n stood there, momentarily stunned. Did he just hit her?

“Y/n? Baby? You there?” Chan’s voice crackled through the phone, but she was too shocked to reply.

“Hey, what’s your problem?!” Charlotte piped up, stepping in front of Y/n as she picked up the money from the ground. “Why would you hit a girl?!”

“Y/n?!” Chan’s voice turned urgent as he overheard the commotion. He felt a knot in his stomach. Did Charlotte just say someone hit her? Without hesitation, he shook Changbin awake, urgency in his voice.

“Someone hit Y/n,” he said, his heart racing as he grabbed his jacket. He couldn’t believe this was happening and felt a strong urge to rush to her side.

“Wha—what?! Chan, hold up!” Changbin exclaimed, fully waking up as he scrambled to grab his shoes. Leeknow and Hyunjin soon joined them, both equally confused and moving quickly.

“Why do you both look so panicked? And why are we grabbing our shoes like something just happened?” Leeknow asked, concern growing in his eyes. He knew they would fill him in eventually, but the urgency of the moment pushed him to act.

“Try calling Desi, please!” Chan urged as he attempted to call Y/n again, but she wasn’t picking up.

“I’ll try Aeri,” Changbin said, already dialing.

“I’ll try Charlotte,” Hyunjin added, his brow furrowed in worry.

“Someone hit her,” Chan said, anger bubbling inside him as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“What the hell? Who?” Hyunjin growled, his protective instincts kicking in.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to bash their heads in,” Chan glared at the road, his heart pounding in his chest. Changbin’s frustration mounted as none of the girls answered, while Leeknow stayed focused, knowing Chan was in fight mode.

As they pulled up outside the bar, they spotted the girls standing outside, visibly upset. Charlotte was yelling at a group of guys, her anger palpable.

“Is that them?” Leeknow said, determination setting in.

Without waiting for an answer, Changbin and Leeknow jumped out of the car and charged toward the men.

“I told you, her boyfriends are going to kill you!” Desi smirked as Changbin grabbed one of the guys by the collar. When one of the guy’s friends tried to intervene, Leeknow swiftly blocked the punch and jumped in, igniting a full-on brawl.

The girls watched in shock as Y/n desperately tried to intervene. “Please! Chan, let’s just go home,” she begged, pulling at Hyunjin’s arm.

She felt guilty but couldn’t shake the belief that those men deserved the beating they were getting. Changbin was fierce, and Y/n feared he might send someone to the hospital if it weren’t for the security guards who finally broke up the fight.

“Where did he hit you?” Leeknow growled as he reached Y/n, noting the bruise forming on her wrist and feeling a metallic taste in his mouth from the adrenaline.

She pointed to her wrist, and he let out a frustrated huff before examining it carefully. Chan was making sure the other girls were okay while Hyunjin worked to calm Changbin down.

“This is why we don’t let you out without us,” Chan said, pulling Y/n into a tight hug, relief flooding through him.

“Are you both okay?” he asked, glancing between her and Leeknow before giving Leeknow a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Yeah, are you?” Leeknow replied, steadying Y/n as she swayed slightly; she was still drunk, after all.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken,” Y/n admitted.

“You okay, Hyunjin? Changbin?” Y/n asked softly, her eyes searching their faces for any sign of distress.

“I’m just so happy you’re okay, love,” Hyunjin replied, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss that nearly brought him to tears. “Never scare me like that again. What if we weren’t here, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her sincerity evident. “I really am. It won’t happen again—”

“If it does, I’ll bash them again,” Changbin growled, and everyone chuckled, knowing he was dead serious.

"I don't think it's safe for your friends to go home alone drunk. We'll let them stay at the pool house, yeah?" Chan asks knowing how severely drunk they were.

"Sure my love," he smiled at the response before holding Y/n's purse.

“Take her to the car; I’ll get the rest of the girls,” Chan instructed, heading toward Y/n’s friends. Y/n watched in awe at how much her boyfriends cared for her, and their concern only deepened once they got home.

Changbin carefully carried her to the kitchen, encouraging her to drink some water to help her sober up. Chan led her friends to the pool house outside, where they would be staying over, while Leeknow grabbed the first aid kit and Hyunjin warmed up some food for everyone.

“Never scare me like that,” Changbin grumbled, making her drink more water.

“Mmmm, I love you, Binnie,” she slurred, wrapping her arms around him, feeling safe and cozy.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she said again, yawning and slowly resting her head on his shoulder.

“I know you’re tired, babygirl, but I have to ice that bruise. It looks nasty,” Leeknow said gently as he examined her wrist.

She instinctively pulled it away, whimpering at the pain, her reaction adorably cute.

“Don’t make me fight you on this,” Leeknow said, giving her a playful glare. She finally relented, “Fine…” she mumbled, knowing he had her best interests at heart.

“Okay, everyone is asleep, and I’m filing a report in the morning,” Chan announced as he walked back into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s waist and planting soft kisses on his cheek.

“What a night, right guys?” Changbin chuckled, spooning some food into Y/n’s mouth, hoping no one would ever try something like that again.

“Huh?” Y/n blinked, still a little dazed but comforted by the warmth of her boyfriends around her.

Funny thing is, she never remembered a thing when she next woke-up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

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[connorsui]

“I trust you…I promise you that I trust you, and nothing will come in the way of that…but you can’t tell me this isn’t ridiculous, right?”

You stand in the middle of your snowy driveway, gazing with a mix of exasperation and amusement at Johnny and your twin sons as they create a battlefield out of the morning’s snowfall-- Instead of the simple snowmen you might have imagined, the boys are busy crafting a fortress, with underground paths, tall mounds as shields, and small stockpiles of snowballs for their so called ... “ammunition.”

You’d pictured the morning so differently: hot chocolate by the fire, maybe a bit of decorating? or Johnny sharing tame, kid-friendly stories from his time in the service—with the casual violence out of the way. But instead, here you are, cup of coffee warming one hand, the other resting on your hip as you watch Johnny instruct the boys in how to "properly" make a shield.

“Ohh, c’mon, lovie,” Johnny calls out, dusting the snow from his gloves with a playful shake of his head, “Let the lads enjoy themselves a bit, eh?” He straightens up, strides over to you, and presses a kiss to your cheek. The cold on his lips contrasts sharply with the warmth of his smile, and you feel yourself smiling back, twirling your coffee idly in the mug.

Johnny steps behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist, resting his chin atop your head. “I meant it when I said I wanted to spend every second with the boys,” he murmurs softly. “Been too long without ‘em, you know?”

“Oh, I know you said that,” you chuckle, a warm puff of air slipping into the crisp winter morning. “Don’t think I forgot so quickly... But taking on our boys in an early morning little war wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when you promised ‘quality time,’ Johnny.”

He laughs, his deep chuckle vibrating against you. But before he can reply, one of the twins rushes over, his cheeks flushed with excitement, snowflakes clinging to his coat.

“Mum! Mummy! Look! We did it!” He points eagerly to their snow fortress, an impressive structure for something built by two kids and their overly enthusiastic dad.

The other twin, standing guard behind a snowy barricade, grins mischievously before launching a snowball toward his brother. It narrowly misses, skimming past you, and you instinctively step back, laughing as you bump into Johnny’s chest.

“Oi! Careful with yer aim,” Johnny calls out, unable to hide the pride in his voice. He lets you go and grins at the boys. “Ye want to join me inside for a while, love?” he asks, lowering his voice, a playful warmth in his tone. “I’ll make you somethin’ nice, your favorite.”

“Hmmm,” you hum in mock consideration, pretending to think it over. Finally, you give a quick nod, and the two of you make your way back to the kitchen, where you begin preparing a warm breakfast for the boys. The house feels cozy, the warmth from the stove and the sound of laughter just outside filling it with a sense of peace that feels almost too perfect to be real.

As you look out the kitchen window, you see the twins giggling, a flurry of snowballs passing between them. One boy dives behind a mound, trying to evade the other’s shot, only to trip and collapse in a heap of laughter and snow. You watch, smiling to yourself, feeling that rare, unfiltered happiness that fills every corner of your heart.

“What’re ye thinkin’, hmm?” Johnny asks, catching the look on your face as he leans against the counter, his gaze soft.

You blink, as if just waking from a daydream. “What? Nothing… Just happy, is all.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Sure about that?”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“Oh, nothin’,” he teases, feigning innocence. “Just wonderin’.”

You lean back against the counter, eyes drifting again to the scene outside. “This is everything I could’ve ever wanted with you, Johnny. I remember imagining this life with you back then, maybe one little one in tow… but now, with two boys, and you… it almost feels ...dream-like,... you know?”

He slides closer to you, his hand resting over yours. “No, darlin’. I don’t know,” he says softly, his eyes meeting yours with that familiar, grounded warmth. “Because this here? It’s all real. Me, the house, our boys… us.” He gestures around as if to make his point clear. “This is it. All of it’s real.”

A smile spreads across your face as you meet his gaze, unable to hold back. Leaning up, you place a soft kiss on his lips, savoring the moment, the crisp air still lingering on his skin.

“And ye know what else could be real right about now?” he murmurs, a glint of mischief in his eye.

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“Leaving the kids with yer mum while we take apart that new lovely present you left out for me.”

You gasp, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Johnny! Don’t tell me you’ve already seen it?”

He smirks, tapping the side of his head. “Oh, don’t think I didn’t spot it, all prettily wrapped with a bow.”

Lowering your voice, you whisper, “That was for later!”

“How much later?” he teases, a mischievous sparkle in his eye that sends your pulse racing.

You glance away, hiding a grin, cheeks warm as you try to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

Johnny lets out a laugh, his deep voice filling the cozy kitchen. But before you can respond, the boys come bounding in, their noses red from the cold, eyes wide with excitement.

“Mum! Mum! Can you make our favorite breakfast?” they ask in unison, looking up at you with hopeful smiles.

You sigh playfully, shaking off the blush that had crept up your neck, and nod. “Alright, alright. I’ll call you back when it’s ready!”

With twin shouts of “mmkay!” they scamper back outside, their laughter echoing through the yard as they dive back into their snowball war.

Johnny watches you, a familiar, mischievous smile still on his face. “Well?”

You tilt your head, chuckling, “I'll call her.."

A laugh escapes him, and he pulls you close, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. As you continue with breakfast, he stays by your side, keeping an eye on the boys through the window. You realize that this—Johnny beside you, the kids laughing outside, the warmth of your home wrapping around you—is the happiest you’ve ever felt.

[darnell-la]

I love your writing so much and I have mad respect for the quality and quantity of your work. Those often don’t go together but you must be superhuman

Anyway, I’ve seen a few fics around about Logan in a rut (which I absolutely love) but what if it was the other way around?

I imagine being on a mission with him and you are some sort of animal hybrid. You get hears but take suppressants normally but one night you start to feel it but have run out of pills

Not a super openly needy !reader and possibly even superficial “enemies” with Logan and you are very stubborn

note: Logan Howlett loves himself a little animal he can ruin.

———

“Have you heard about y/n?” Hank asked Logan as Logan walked through the lab doors. “Nah,” Logan said plainly as he walked towards the cabinets for sleeping pills Hank had made for him to ease his sleep a bit.

“So, you know how she’s quite literally an animal in a human's body, right?” Hank asked, making Logan hum, because he couldn’t care less about anything that had to do with her.

“Well, she’s going through a rut,” Hank slightly whispered, speaking as if that was a bad secret he should’ve kept to himself, and he should’ve.

Logan snapped his head towards the man, eyes widened and eyebrows scrunched. “What do you mean by rut?” Logan asked, already having an idea about what the beast meant.

“You know — Mating season. The professor had me make some pills for her a few weeks ago, and y/n already ran out of them. That’s why I’m making more right now,” Hank said, having no idea what he just awoke in Logan.

“Ran out?” Logan asked. “Yep — Guess they’re not strong enough so she took double or triple of what I prescribed to her,” Hank replied as Logan thought to himself.

The man’s mind had run wild, not thinking he’d ever feel this cocky or needing to tease y/n about this.

“How come I didn’t know about this?” Logan asked. “Oh, I didn’t know you didn’t know. Mostly everyone in the house knows about this, so I don’t see a problem with you knowing,”

Logan hummed with a nod before he left the lab, completely forgetting and not caring about the pills anymore. He had some things to do.

For the past hour, Logan had been setting up to get to y/n. When it came to making her mad, he was quick with thinking and doing whatever he needed, but teasing? He knew this would feel better.

The man had taken a long and nice shower, making sure the soap he used had a strong smell to it. Afterwards, he got out and lotioned down which he never does. Maybe his hands, but never his whole body.

When he got dressed, he dressed in normal blue jeans with a nice thick and heavy leather belt. He matched his undershirt with a white tank top that was a bit tight on him.

Logan was known for using a bit of cologne, maybe a smell more in the manly side, but today he wore a cologne Scott had given him for his birthday. “That shit you always wear scares the woman away. It’s too strong,” he remembered the man’s words.

After Logan was all done up for y/n, ready to start his evil torment, he walked out of his room and made his way downstairs towards the living that y/n was always in.

The man had entered the room, giving y/n no eye contact as he sat down on the sofa he’s always on, making sure to let out a louder groan the usual.

Y/n was confused about who had just walked into before she looked up from her phone to see Logan. She’s never smelled him or anyone this way? Why does he smell so clean and good?

Logan grabbed the remote that was on the arm of his sofa and clicked through a few channels until he found a good movie. A very sexual move that he was not really into, but he knew they had a lot of explicit parts.

Long and hard minutes and buy for y/n. The smell of the man and the sounds of the movie only made the time go by slowly. She prayed she could handle whatever she felt, but she would soon break.

“What are you even watching, Logan? Like seriously?” Y/n asked, a hint of anger in her voice, but she tried not to make it seem that way. She had told almost everyone in the mansion about her rut, but not Logan. She didn’t want him to know something like that of her.

“Nothin’ sweetheart,” Logan said in his normal tone, but for some reason, that sent a shock through y/n’s body. “Well, could you maybe put something else on? Ian tryna listen to all that,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

“Why not? We’re all adults here,” Logan argued back which y/n hated a bit more at this time. “You’re a fucking dick, you know?” Y/n sighed as she shifted on the couch.

“Oh, and why is that? Can’t handle a bit of porn?” Logan asked as he looked at the going lady. He knew his plan was working. Watching her this uncomfortable was far better than arguing with her.

“Whatever, Logan, just- Just shut the fuck up,” y/n cussed, feeling more annoyed and bothered than ever at the man. If she hated him so much, why did she feel this way? She didn’t know, and it bothered her. It bothered how much he got under her skin with little things.

“By the way, the professor has a mission for us in an hour, so if you needed to get dressed and shower, do it now. Don’t needa be late because of you,” y/n said, making the man chuckle. He knew what she was trying to do, and she failed.

“Already showered and dressed, Bub,” Logan replied, which made her roll her eyes again. She wanted to cuss him out and demand him to do something about his smell and look, but she stayed calm. She had to, or else, he’d know.

“Do we seriously have to stay in this fuckin’ hotel? We’re only a few hours or so away from the mansion. Our plane can fly that itself,” y/n said as Logan opened the door to a semi-expensive hotel room.

Logan told the professor that he and y/n were pretty beat up tonight, and needed time to sleep before they flew back.

Of course, since the professor saw no problem in it, he didn’t read Logan’s mind and saw he was lying. He just called the hotel and told them a couple of X-men needed a place to stay. The hotel had no problem with giving the two their best room.

“Are you serious? A fuckin’ one bed!? You’re sleeping in the voice,” y/n said, thinking Logan wouldn’t argue about it like anything other time, but tonight he did for specific reasons.

“I’m sleepin’ comfortable tonight, princess, so if you’re too childish to share the bed, lay on the couch yourself,” Logan said, knowing she would be er do that. She loved a soft bed.

“Fuck you,” she cussed before placing her luggage down to go through it and see what she had for tonight. She felt bad for how much language she had used today, but she couldn’t help it. She was furious.

“Fuck!” She cussed once again as she went through her bag, only finding an extra suit, underwear, and bra. She thought she’d be home by now, and not in a fancy hotel with one bed to sleep in with Logan.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked as he sat in the bed, taking his shirt off that y/n hadn’t seen yet. “Don’t have any close to sleep in,” she said with a hint of anger that she tried to hide.

“Just use mine. Ain’t that hard,” she said as he went through his luggage to pull out a large shirt he had sprayed with some cologne earlier today. He planned well.

“Thank you, I guess,” y/n said as she turned around to grab the shirt. When she did, she froze, seeing Logan’s whole upper body on display. He’s always walking around the mansion shirtless when the kids aren’t there, but tonight, she actually felt bothered by it.

“God, put a shirt on,” y/n tried covering her stare up before she yanked his shirt away. “Can’t do that — You took my sleep shirt,” he smirked to himself as her head dropped.

“What do you mean, Logan?” She asked with a sigh. “Hey, you’re the one who ain’t being shit, so done get mad at me,” Logan said as he unbuckled his belt. That sound made her heart pump.

“You didn’t bring an extra!?” She asked. “Either you wear the shirt, or you wear nothing. I don’t mind taking my shirt back,” she said. She caught his slight flirty comment, and she really wanted to reject him, but couldn’t.

“Whatever,” y/n said before getting up quickly to head to the bathroom before Logan took his jeans off. She couldn’t stick around for it. She didn’t want to test her strength tonight.

“Look, I don’t know what making you pissy today, but fuckin’ cut it, alright?” Logan said as he dried himself off. “You’re making me pissy!” Y/n yelled at the man after she flopped on the bed.

“Yeah? And why is that? I haven’t done shit or even said shit to you all day,” Logan said, already knowing what was wrong with her. He could barely keep his smirks together.

“Logan, can you please just dry off and change in the bathroom like I did? Is that so hard?” She asked as he dried his hair. “Kinda,” he said, making the girl sigh with a mentally painful whine.

“I heard you’re going through your little rut, but it shouldn’t be this bad. Like c’mon. You can’t game a bit of smell and skin?” Logan chuckled, making y/n snap her head towards him.

“You know about that?” She asked, not knowing if she should feel embarrassed or be upset at the man. “Yeah — Ain’t too hard to see either,” the man smirked as she got up from the bed.

“You know I’m going through a fucking rut, and you got us a hotel? With one bed!? And the only thing covering you is a towel? And your shirt smells like this!? — You planned this,” y/n growled.

“Indeed I did, and it’s pretty fun to watch,” Logan said as he put the towel he was drying himself off with, down. The other hung around his waist loosely, making sure his v-line showed.

“Logan, you can’t do that shit. This dangerous!” /n yelled at the man. “Dangerous? How come? Because I’m locked in a room with a woman who needs to rub one out? Oh, so dangerous,” Logan threw his hands in the air.

“No, it’s dangerous for me! I don’t have my pills, a-and it’s just hard to keep himself together,” y/n slightly explained. “Why is it hard? You know if it’s that bad, you can just ask me to help you,” Logan said, feeling a little bad, but not too much.

“In your fucking dreams,” y/n spat, making him laugh. “Don’t think I’m dreamin, Bub,” Logan said as he began to walk towards y/n. “Hey, no! — No! — Stay back!” Y/n yelled at the man as she backed up until her back hit the wall, next to the bed.

“Why? You horny? Can’t have a man close to you or you might devour them?” Logan asked, a few feet away from y/n. Y/n ran for it and jumped on the bed to get over and on the other side, but Logan caught her.

The man grabbed her ankles and pulled her body into his before leaning over her to trap her in between him and the soft bed.

“Just say the words, and I’ll help you, princess,” Logan said, his own animalistic tone breaking through. “No!” Y/n yelled again, only making Logan grind his lower body in between her legs.

“You sure?” He asked as the towel rubbed her clothed cunt. Logan made sure to only bring a shirt, so that would be the only thing she slept in. No sweats and no shirts.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Logan,” y/n tried keeping her moans in as the towel rubbed her harder. “P-Please stop this. We can’t,” y/n said, but Logan wasn’t having it.

“But we can, and you know it,” Logan said into her ear, lips only a few inches away. “Just tell me you want me, and I’ll rock your little word,” the man said slowly, voice almost enchanting.

“Lo,” y/n said, voice trembling at what she really wanted to say. She was too embarrassed to ask the man to touch her. She was also too stubborn. They hated each other, and he’d constantly tease her if she let this happen.

“I can smell you, y/n. Just give in,” Logan said as his hand slowly traced down her body. Y/n panicked and pushed him off, using strength that he’d never felt come fr her before.

Y/n basically backflipped over the bed to get on the other side and away from him. He was getting to her, and she hated how much her body reacted.

“Little girl thinks she can outrun me, hm? Let’s see who’ll get to that door first,” Logan challenged. Before she y/n thought, her feet moved, taking off to run to the door and maybe get out, but she should’ve known better.

Logan had jumped over the bed like an animal on all fours then pushed her up against the door, hard, knocking the wind out of her body.

“Too slow,” Logan's voice was in her ear before she was sung around. She didn’t know how, but she ended up on her back, legs over the man’s shoulders as her head spun.

“Logan, stop this! W-We can’t,” y/n tried crawling back, but the man held her in place with one hand as the other ripped off his towel. Y/n’s eyes widened when she saw the sight of Logan.

“You wanna know a secret?” Logan asked before he ripped y/n’s panties off, earning a yell from her. “I’m always in a rut when I’m around you, but I rub one out to save your pretty little cunt,” Logan said before he spat on his hand and rub it across her folds.

Y/n struggled to get away from the man. His one-hand grip was tight, and the way her legs were over his shoulders, made it harder for her to push back.

Logan wasted no time pushing at y/n’s entrance, moving forward until he filled her with every thick, veiny, long, and leaking inch he had.

“Logan!” Y/n basically screamed as her hand instantly gripped his wrist which held her down and pulled her into him. “Nah uh, get your hands off of me, or I put mine all on you,” Logan threatened.

“Too much- Too much!” Y/n cried out as his hips snapped harder. “That it, y/n, I fuckin’ warned you,” Logan grabbed the young lady and lifted her body. Her legs still stayed over his shoulders, only making the angle harder for her to take him in.

“L-Lo,” y/n stuttered with a broken whine as one of his hands wrapped around her back and the other held her up by one ass cheek, allowing him to spread as much as he could to fit in her further.

“Told you to quit it, but you never listen,” Logan breathed heavily into her head as his hips thrust forward, moving at an incredible pace that made her feel dizzy.

“So fuckin’ tight, I’m definitely coming back to you. Always wanted you anyways,” Logan admitted as he felt her squeeze him at his confession. “You like that, don’t you? Mean old Logan bully you and this pussy,”

“C-Cumming,” was all y/n could get out as she gushed around him. “That’s it, baby — Keep it up, and I’ll fill you twice tonight,” Logan’s hands gripped the woman’s body tighter, leaning mini bruises that probably weren’t going to be too visible, bye who cared? He didn’t. He planned to mark her up tonight to surprise the crew when they got back.

[cottonlemonade]

Accidental Confession

word count: 1562 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: rival!Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with smidgen of spice, enemies to lovers

warnings: mdni

request: fluffy-spicy, accidental confession with rival Kuroo, as manager

When you moved to Tokyo, you had your pick of schools. You could have gone to Fukurodani or even Itachiyama, the entrance exams to either was a joke, but after you visited a local volleyball tournament with your parents you decided on Nekoma. Their persistence, strategy and determined gameplay was hypnotizing and your fascination for the club was born. You wanted to be a part of the team, design tactics against individual opponents and fantasized about giving the decisive hint to lead them to victory. So imagine your disappointment, when you met the team in your first year and some bed-headed, cocky boy went at it with the libero. From what you gathered, the libero, Yaku, had badly defeated the other one, Kuroo, during a game in middle school and Kuroo had been salty ever since. Instead of trying to mediate you agreed with Yaku‘s arguments and took his side, turning Kuroo from a mildly annoying nuisance into the enemy.

On the other side, it took Kuroo two summers to realize that all his proverbial pigtail-pulling meant he was in love. The feeling hit him one afternoon as he lounged upside down on Kenma‘s bed, watching his friend defeat the latest boss in a video game. Kuroo’s mind began to wander to the previous week when Kenma had pointed out that he had mentioned you six times in as many minutes and the realization was so earth-shattering that he nearly slid to the floor.

When you met him again in the hallway on your first day back of third year, you were prepared for whatever lame comment would come your way. What you didn’t expect was him avoiding your eyes and hurrying around the corner. You squinted, a skeptical frown plastered on your face. As you walked past he was casually conversing with the water fountain. What was he playing at?

“Hey, demon spawn, do you have a minute?”

Yaku looked up from the cup ramen he was slurping in the convenience store and although a little miffed that his quality after school time was interrupted, he nodded to the empty seat next to him.

Kuroo plopped down and Yaku began twirling a new ball of noodles around his chopsticks, thinking nothing more than this would probably concern homework or volleyball.

There was no use to dance around the subject.

“Does y/n ever talk about me?“

The libero almost choked and Kuroo waited until he calmed down, not moving a muscle to help.

“With deepest hatred, yeah.“, Yaku eventually pressed out and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

“You sure?“

“Very sure.“

“Maybe it’s just a front for her real feelings because obviously she wouldn’t wanna tell you that she is madly in love with me and-“

“No no. She really really hates you.“

“But I’m so lovable...“, Kuroo pouted, earning a scoff from his fellow teammate.

“Why are you asking, anyway? You better not try pulling some dumb prank on her.” Yaku scowled.

“Me? Never. - I just… I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“That’s a really weird thing to wonder about.”

“Do you never have a self-absorbed day? Hahaha…” Kuroo laughed nervously and grabbed the still wrapped melon bread next to Yaku, opening the package and taking a large bite to muffle his still ongoing awkwardness.

“Hey!”

“Just doing you a favor. These aren’t good for you.”, Kuroo said wisely through a mouthful of pillowy bread and, swallowing laboriously, added, “Sorry, gotta go. Thanks for this.”

Unfortunately, the uselessly tall jerk was nimble in his movements and jumped up to rush out of the glass doors. Yaku was about to pounce but the convenience store clerk asked him for quiet and, apologizing over and over with deep bows, he went back to his ramen, groaning inwardly because the noodles had gotten soggy.

Alright. He had three options. Pine for the rest of his days, wear you down over time with his infinite charm or confess and run away before you could insult him. None of them really tickled his fancy and with his disadvantageous starting point of “deepest hatred” - as per Yaku - his chances were slim but there was nothing else for it.

“So…” Kuroo ignored your rolling eyes when you turned to him. It was after practice on a Friday and he figured if he confessed now he had all weekend to hide in case it would go south.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Why?”

You eyed him suspiciously, standing there all tall and handsome in the utility room. He had just wheeled in the basket of volleyballs, subconsciously placing his hand on one of them for support. Hoping no one would bear witness to his almost certain failure he closed the door behind him. He did it gently so you didn’t think he was trapping you, but the gesture made you raise a brow nonetheless.

When he didn’t answer right away you snapped, “What’s it to you?”

You ducked your head a bit at your tone. The hostility was of course just a front for your real feelings because obviously you wouldn’t want to tell Yaku that you were madly in love with Kuroo and -

“I thought maybe you wanna grab a drink at the convenience store on the way home.”

He increased the pressure on the ball, tension running through his body and his heart throbbed loudly in his ears.

To his surprise you didn’t shoot him down immediately but just asked, “Who else is coming?”

“No one?”

“Why?”

“Be…cause I want to be alone with you?”

“Why?”

Abort, abort, abort!

“Because I like you?”, he offered and gave you a smile that may have been an attempt at “winning volleyball captain” but only reached “uncomfortable idiot” at best. He flinched when you started laughing, then, in his desperation to save face joined in, although robotically.

“That was a good one.”, you admitted.

“Yeah… definitely. Got you good…”, he said lamely, “Well it’s been great talking to you as always. Remember this was a joke. Not serious. At all! Definitely didn’t confess to you just now, okay? - Okay, cool. See ya bye!”

He spun on his heel, internally rolling his shoulders, ready for a sprint to get far away, and a moment later inspected the useless door handle in his hand. A loud clunk kindly let him know that the other side of the handle had broken off as well. Oh no.

“Kuroo, that’s not funny.”

“I agree.”, he said, much calmer than he felt, and raised his hand to knock on the metal door, “Hello?! Anyone?! Can someone open the door, please?! There are people stuck in here!”

You took out your phone and dialed Yaku’s number. But after ringing through to voicemail twice, you sent him a text. “They’re all probably already in the shower.”, you said, “Mori will get the text eventually and come to help.”

“Did you tell him you’re in here with me? Cause that might delay his response time.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well he wouldn’t really rush to help me, wouldn’t he?”

You crossed your arms and, adding an exasperated sigh, said, “You know, you guys are so childish. Why can’t you just get along?”

“We’re childish?”, he asked with mocking disbelief, “We are not the ones who hate on the incredibly charming, suave, level-headed captain for no reason.”

Being met with silence he added quietly, “Too much?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t hate you so much if you weren’t so damn kissable. It’s annoying.”, you muttered.

“What?”

“I said, you’re annoying!”

“And the part before that?”

“Didn’t say anything before that. You’re hearing things, grandpa.”

“Nooo, I definitely heard the word kissable.”

“Aww, going senile?”

“Hey, listen! You’re no different, okay?! If you weren’t so god damn cute all the time I wouldn’t have to ask for notes on lessons so often! You’re freaking distracting!”

You squared your shoulders, your body turning warm from embarrassment and, because you didn’t know what else to feel, completely unfounded offense.

“Oh, you think it’s easy for me?! With that stupidly great hair you’re always sporting?! And don’t even get me started on your voice! Makes me wanna drag you into an empty classroom!”

“What about your fruity lipgloss, huh?! You’re just asking me to stare!”

“And your biceps?!”

“And your hips?!”

“Your dumb weirdly hot smile?!”

“Why are we yelling nice stuff?!”

“Because I like you, too, you idiot!”

A moment’s pause draped itself between you, only disturbed by the breathless panting on either side.

“Yeah?”, he said finally, “Prove it.”

You unceremoniously closed the distance between you and pushed him back against the metal door, standing on tiptoes and grabbing the front of his jersey for good measure. The coward eventually unfroze and gripped your pudgy waist to pull you closer. His hands were everywhere and you gasped when he squeezed your ass, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. When you needed to come up for air he instead opted for dipping his head lower, kissing your neck, obviously determined to leave a hickey if he continued as he did. And you were very much about to let him when the door opened and both of you tumbled out. Kuroo made sure to cushion your fall, holding you safely in his arms when you landed on top of him and looked up to meet the utterly disgusted grimace of Yaku.

a/n: I got three accidental confession requests for Kuroo in slightly different variations xD so I decided to kind of mash them all together. For a purely fluffy non-manager option I have A Chaotic Confession if you’d like to check it out ^^ thank you so much to the three anons who requested this prompt. I hope you enjoyed it 🌟 (special thanks to @haikyu-mp4 for helping me out of a corner with this one!)