#Like do you know what i mean. hes not considering the actual politics of anything its just this

[katakaluptastrophy]

I think what's so interesting about Gideon as a narrator at the anniversary dinner is the fact that there's clearly tensions that she's just not picking up on because she's only there to eat a dessert.

But these people are all the immensely powerful leaders of the Houses and consider themselves to be in competition for literal godlike powers and the favour of the emperor.

There's so many little snippets that are potentially intriguing: why is Teacher trying to prime the Ninth to consider the Fifth a threat? Why are the Third and the Sixth "sizing each other up like prizefighters"? The Fifth absolutely knew what they were doing when they sat the teen heads of the opposing cults near each other.

Through Gideon's lens, Magnus' speech is a little awkward jokey thing. But...the seneschal of the House that is known to be actively trying to absorb another House is saying it's such a shame they're all so remote from each other and what do they all have in common (and it's so quiet you "could have heard a hair flutter to the floor") - that had to feel a bit different to people who aren't Gideon.

Palamedes' is dissecting the meaning of "Master Warden" and at one point compares it to a prison warden. 'Dulcinea' asking about whether Magnus and Abigail have children is perhaps less small talk and rather more pointedly political. Harrow's apparently stilted conversation with Protesilaus is clearly her actually probing his limitations like he's a bad Chat GPT-run chatbot.

And then 'Dulcinea' tells Gideon she liked the dinner because it was "useful". In her typical "I never lied to you" way, Cyth wasn't lying when she said Abigail had to die because of her hobby - Abigail Pent let loose on the Facility would have risked blowing Cyth's cover sky high. But what does a Canaan House look like where after the dinner party, the Fifth go down to the facility, get a key, and survive to continue their 'the Houses are going to get along or else' agenda? We've seen Fifth House soft power on a smaller scale in HTN: and it looks like inviting a teenager round for coffee, lulling her into a false sense of security with small talk, and then physically preventing her from leaving the room until she does what you want, while smiling the entire time. A series of little coffee chats could probably have led to a lot of cooperation in Canaan House, one way or another.

Gideon jokes about Silas marrying Ianthe because of their similar colour pallete, but it does raise the fact that there seems to be some tension around the Third, its succession, and the *point* of Ianthe. Why is Silas openly saying Ianthe should have died at birth? Combined with Judith's comments in the Cohort Intelligence Files about succession on the Third, it feels like there's something else being said here that Gideon isn't picking up on.

And of course, Harrow wasn't the only one desperate to become a Lyctor because her con was unsustainable. Presumably at some point Corona and Ianthe would be expected to marry, or at least take on more separate roles as Corona prepared to take over the throne and Ianthe was funneled off elsewhere. At some point, their package deal would have become unsustainable and Corona's cover would have been blown. But much as Harrow wants to become a Lyctor so she can reveal the state of the Ninth without repercussions, Ianthe is probably in part motivated to become a Lyctor for the same reason. Because otherwise, what would Ianthe's expected role have been? Amidst the suggestion of anxiety about the Idan succession, the dinner party also presents the fact that the reason Abigail and Magnus' infertility isn't a succession crisis for the ruling family of the Fifth is that Abigail's younger brother dutifully married in his early 20s and had kids. We know there are branch families in Ida - Babs is from one. He may be a prince, but he's not treated well, and you do get the sense that the stakes to stay in power in Ida are high.

We don't learn anything about the political situation in the Houses themselves during HTN or NTN, but in the wake of Canaan House, you have to suspect there are a number of tensions and concerns.

[mytheoristavenue]

How MHA Guys React to Fangirls

Summary: Dating a pro hero can be a challenge, especially one so handsome, with so many rabid fans.

Warnings: jealousy, fluff, gn!reader, very little angst

Katsuki Bakugo:

Bakugo has never been into having fans as he is just being all together admired. Not one for social interactions, he tends to clam up and become defensive when asked for an autograph, so when he's approached by a fangirl, he wants nothing to do with them. Especially if he's out with you, off duty. If one does happen to approach, and ignoring them doesn't do the trick, he'll make sure he's not their favorite hero anymore by the end of it.

"Do I look like I'm on duty to you? Can't you see I'm out with my partner or are you fucking blind? Piss off, I ain't signin' any damn autographs."

Izuku Midoriya:

Izuku totally understands how it feels to be a hopelessly obsessed fan, so he cuts his fans a lot of slack- sometimes too much. Though he rerfused to admit it at first, he has a lot of fangirls. and he's never the type to hurt someone's feelings on purpose, so he almost always stops for free autographs and photo ops. It can be sometimes frustrating how much of a people pleaser he can be, but rest assured, if he feels like you are getting too uncomfortable, or a fan is becoming too bold, he politely and swiftly ends the interaction.

"Hey, thanks for the support! I'd love to stay and chat, but it's actually my day off, so me and and my partner here are gonna move along. Hope to see you at the next event I attend, though!"

Tenya Iida:

Iida does truly enjoy interactions with his fanbase, but he considers that part of the job, and he's very strick about working off the clock. Because of this, he declines nearly every interaction if he's off duty. He absolutely has no tollerance for being flirted with, either, especially in front of you.

"I appreiciate your enthusiasm, but I and currently off duty and will not be indulging in fan interaction at this time! Please feel free to catch me anytime you see me in uniform! Good day!"

Shoto Todoroki:

Shoto doesn't beleive he has fans, genuinely. He can't quite wrap his head around having a fanbase, or being a fan of a celebrity in the first place, due to how he grew up. It tends to bewilder him when strangers approach him on the street wanting autographs, even more so when they try and put the moves on him. It just goes in one ear and out the other.

"You want an autograph? Why? Well, okay, I guess, but then we should get going. My partner and I are busy."

Eijiro Kirishima:

Kirishima tends to have a very healthy balance of pleasing fans and knowing when to say no. He loves giving out autographs, taking selfies, and giving hugs to all his fans. He especially loves interactions with child fans because it reminds him of how he idolized Crimson Riot, and he hopes to inspire someone like that too. He is, however, very aware when he's being flirted with or sexualized, and has no issue with promptly, albeit politely shutting it down.

"Alright, ladies, I understand someone as manly as me attracts a lot of attention, but my partner here is the only one I've got eyes for, and I ask that you please respect that."

Denki Kaminari:

Unfortunaely for you, Denki loves attention from fans, especially from his fangirls. He never turns down a signing or photo op, posing with girls however they want, even if it means something suggestive. To his credit, he will stop if you ask him to, but you still have to ask.

"Oh, what's that? Okay. Sorry ladies, we gotta run, but catch me at the next meet and greet!"

Hanta Sero:

Like Kirishima, Sero seems to have a pretty healthy mix of reactions. He loves his fans to death and would do most anything for them, especially kids. He lets his fangirls sexualize him to a small extent, knowing they probably don't totally realize he's a real person, but if they come to commenting on his body, or touching more than his shoulder, upper back, or elbows, he puts a stop to it.

"Now, that's enough, ladies. I appreiciate the admiration but even us celebrities have to set boundaries. It was nice meeting you, but it's actually my day off so me and my partner are gonna get, have a nice day!"

Minoru Mineta:

Like Denki, Mineta unfortunately lets his fangirls do whatever they want to him, short of carry him off. He actually does sometimes feel guilty for hurting your felings, however. He just doesn't realize how his flirting can affect you at times. He hopes you know that, even if he does flirt back, it's you who he truly loves!

"Awe, babe, I'm sorry! They don't even matter to me, I swear! It's you that I love, not some silly fangirl!"

Tokoyami Fumikage:

Tokoyami for the life of him does not know how to interact with his fans. He gets overwhelmed by crowds, but can usually handle interactions if they come one or two at a time. He typically caters to most requests, unless they happen to be personal questions, or something embarrassing. He doesn't like the idea of some fans being attracted to him, as he's only attracted to you, and he feels guilty beign someone's unrequited love. Due to this, he doesn't entertain any kind of flirting from any of his fans, no matter what gender.

"Sorry, I'm not comfrotable signing that for you, can you pick something else? My partner here is my only love, so it wouldn't be right of me to sign your photo with anything romantic."

Mezo Shoji:

It took a lot of convincing to get Shoji to understand that he had fans, let alone ones that were attracted to him. he's just not used to people other than you thinking of him that way, with his mutations and all. You actually had to show him all of the fan works of him online to get him to believe you. That being said, Shoji loves his fans, but he tends to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of them, and the fact that the can forget he's a person, not a character. In the past, he's had issues with fangirls stroking his muscles during photo ops, squeezing his pecks, and one even tried to yank his mask down. Luckily since then, he has learned how to manage fan interactions much better.

"Hey, don't do that. I'm a person, just like you, please treat me how you'd want to be treated. And don't disrespect my partner by tyring something inappropriate right in front of them."

Mashiroa Ojiro:

Like Shoji, Ojiro had a hard time accepting he had fans, but took much less convincing on your part. What he really struggled with was coming to terms with some of his fans liking him romantically. He doesn't typically turn away fan interactions, even on his days off, but he does cut them shorter that he would if he were working. If someone tries anything inappropriate, he ends the interaction right there.

"Sorry, I don't appreciate what you just did. Besides, it's my day off and I'd like to spend it with my partner here. I forgive you though, and hope to see you again at a meet and greet in the future!"

Tamaki Amajiki:

Tamaki appreciates the thought of having fans, and when standing intront of a cheering crowd, he can soemtiems handle it, but he really hates fan interactions. He never knows how to handle them, and many end up with him just nervously standing by while a stranger takes pictures with him, many times without his permission. Many times, you have to step up from him and ask the person politely to move along, which he always appreiciates.

"T-Thanks, babe... They were making me really uncomfortable but I didn't wanna hurt their feelings..."

[cusimmrbrightside]

I have always liked the idea of the school for mutants being very literally a school, and I know yes it is but I mean in the sense of if you want to be an X-men, you have to be a teacher. They have exams at the end of years, they have Ofsted checks (for those who don’t know what they are, it’s essentially people coming to check that the school is good at being a school) and they have teachers for every subject, which brings me to my next point;

“I’m Right You’re Wrong, Here’s What The X-Men (‘97 specifically) Would Teach As Subjects”.

(Also this is based off of UK school system but I use American terms like “seniors” and “AP” and “Midterms”)

Maths Teacher Gambit is surprising, for a guy most assume to not being entirely smart, an idiot goof off who’s the comedic relief. But you need to know numbers to gamble, and that he does with being very well versed in mathematics way past an AP level. He’s made the promise for every senior class that he will teach them to play blackjack on the final day, and has only ever lost once. Which is when the rule of “no betting real money” came into place.

English teacher Jean reminds me of the kind of teacher who would let the social outcasts into her class for their lunch breaks. The kids more likely to be bullied and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure those kids bullies don’t come into that classroom. they’re loud and shout and shouldn’t really be in there but no one has to know and she certainly won’t be telling them to leave any time soon.

Physics teacher Magneto is very specific to my highschool experience I’ll be honest. I had a physics teacher who was an actual Dr with a PHD and he hated being there. His classroom has (well, had since the building was knocked down about 5 years ago now) this one cabinet that was never fully shut, it was always open just about an inch or two, and he’d stand with his foot hovering just above it and then slam down on it whenever we got too loud so the noise would shut us up. That’s very magneto coded. Erik Lehnsherr would purposefully make the cabinet always a little open so he can do that.

Biology teacher morph is just a funny concept, a person whose physical form and change and morph into just about anything. They are considered one of the “fun” teachers, you could easily convince them to let you watch a movie all class as long as it was biology centred, but with classics like Osmosis Jones, you’re not stuck watching a documentary about animals giving birth.

Chemistry teacher Storm does not fuck about with children’s education. She is not strict by any means whatsoever, she just will not bend to someone saying they want to watch a film or should do a practical instead of theory. She has a set curriculum. She knows what she will be doing by the first week of the summer holidays and already has the room set up all pretty and organised.

Geography teacher Scott has the unfortunate job of telling his students that, they just won’t be looking at memorising country flags and politics. But hey!! Rocks are cool!! Beach shores are cool! Lake formations are cool! He’s the vice principal and designated nerd teacher. He once beat the elite four for a student on their copy of Pokémon Red because the student promised they’d do well in their midterms. Yes, he was in his 30s when the game came out, he doesn’t care.

History teacher Logan is a walking fun facts book. He’s exhausted, goes on smoke breaks on every gap of time he has, dislikes his job and will randomly get passionate about one specific topic, and will then dedicate his next 4 classes to that topic. Having been through a lot of modern history with personal experiences, he’s able to bring a lot of souvenirs to show his classes. Bullets, helmets, clothes he once wore hundreds of years ago, his personal memories of basic inventions like the vaccine.

PE (physical education) teacher Rogue is full of fun sports games, you can join any kind of sports team you can imagine and if you ask nicely enough, she’ll put Just Dance on a projector in the sports hall so you can just play that instead of actually play an actual sport. As long as you leave her class exhausted and without time to have a shower before your next class then she’s succeeded in making whoever your next teacher is absolutely miserable (bonus points if it’s Logan with his enhanced sense of smell).

Art teacher jubilee does believe that there is a right way to critique art. And she can be a little in your face about it. She does think you can have wrong opinions especially when it comes to your own art. If she overhears you saying you didn’t something wrong, she’ll scream into a megaphone “adapt, improvise, overcome!”. There are no mistakes! She’s eccentric, bubbly, creative and brilliant, the only one suited for the job.

It wouldn’t be a school without budget cuts. That’s why Nightcrawler is both the languages and religions teacher and he’s beloved at both. He comes up with roleplay scenarios the students can play to help learn their chosen languages, he has varied religious texts in his room and when he says to the students “I’ll pray for toy during exam season” he’s not actually joking.

(I forgot about Hank I’m actually going to cry he’s one of my favourites and I forgot about him. He’ll be in pt two or smth.)

[probablybadrpgideas]

THINGS I AM UNREASONABLY ANNOYED ABOUT BY GAME SYSTEM

D&D: Please put a disclaimer that you are not a universal system. Every time I see someone try to do a political mystery game in D&D, I take 3d10 psychic damage and have to make a death saving throw.

Pathfinder: Look. If i wanted to play a game about fighting Cthulhu there is an extremely famous game specifically designed around doing that. Literally no-one is ever going to say "Wow, I want to play a Cthulhu themed game! Time to stat up a musical halfling from a magical fantasy land!".

Chronicles Of Darkness: Just admit no-one uses any of your rules. You have Social Door Rules and Integrity Conditions and Corruption Levels and I bet at most 50% of COD players could tell me which of those I made up. Just admit people aren't dressing up as Alucard The Bringer Of Shadows because they want to sit down and do calculus.

World Of Darkness: You know that old guy who's still doing his job even though he is way too old to do it any more, but he's now an institution so you can't get rid of him? Like that. The 90s called and they want literally everything about this back.

Call Of Cthulhu: I appreciate the commitment to authenticity, but maybe stop hiring actual disgraced mental asylum directors from the 1920s to design your sanity system?

GURPS: Look. Look. Listen. We both know that you just want to write history textbooks. These are history textbooks with a few stat blocks begrudgingly put in. If you just give me a book on early Chinese history I will read it and go "ah, very interesting!". You don't need to put in a list of character choices. We're all nerds. We'll read them. Live your best life.

Powered By The Apocalypse: I actually can't think of anything wrong with PBTA. That's not a bit, this is literally the perfect system. Take notes everyone else.

Mutants and Masterminds/Heroes System: Your systems have probably the most customizable character creation in the world and you both just make reskins of the Justice League over and over again. Maybe we only need one "thinly veiled copyrighted characters" setting? You can fight over it once you decipher your combat mechanics.

FATE: Ok I won't lie, I have no idea how the fuck FATE works. I have read the rules repeatedly and played three games and I still have no idea what invoking an aspect means. I don't know why. I grasped the rules of fucking Nobilis but this one just psychologically eludes me. This is more a problem with me I guess, but I'm still annoyed.

Warhammer 40k: Have you considered spending less on avocado toast? Then you might be able to afford to charge less for things?

Exalted: Apart from the lore, the setting, the mechanics, the metaplot, the character creation and the dodgy narrative implications, I can't think of anything to improve here.

[itachiiwrites]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐃

Pt. 2 of Notice me! Senpai!

Plot: By now you should know he'll do just about anything to get your attention, even if it means being shitty at a job he's good at.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Tags: divider by @cafekitsune , @rookthornesartistry beta by lovely @entirelysein-e | @pixelcafe-network

a/n; I know I'm ignoring my kinktober list..I know...

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚ cw. Minors. Do. Not. Enter. Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, 69, prone bone, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk gojo, gojo is a yearner, age gap (reader is 33, Satoru is 28), canon divergent (it's never gojover :⁠^⁠))

Word count: 2.8k

Gojo Satoru never thought that he’d be so gullible.

Gullible enough to let himself get dumped by you, not that you dumped him in actuality, in his head you were so much more than that one time you sent him a risqué text accidentally, which consequently led to a very eventful thing happening. Key word, sex.

He knew that had to do something to get your attention, which meant doing a terribly sloppy, messy job on a mission. The killing wasn't the part he would suck at, for very obvious reasons but he could unapologetically collapse a few evacuated buildings, spill the guts, bones and blood of the curses obscenely enough that it left a trace even for the non-sorcerers. The consequences would leave him in a lot of deep shit from the higher ups and principal Yaga.

“Satoru, the casualties in Kobe weren’t as much as we expected, but for the love of fucking god! Can you care enough to explain why you’ve NOT done a clean job?” The air pressure in the room seemed to be skyrocketing with principal Yaga’s blood pressure and the way veins on his forehead were perceptibly popping out, contrasted by Satoru’s smirk of unbothered cool detachment. You knew it was bad the moment principal Yaga didn't particularly care about cuss words effortlessly leaving his mouth.

“My job is to obliterate, I obliterate, maybe maid Ichiji is just not doing his job well” You furrowed your brows at the entitlement and smugness in his statement. Shrugging his shoulders with his hands raised up in a gesture of ‘I wonder’, all of this being way too unserious and unimportant to him. What the fuck was that?

Your presence wasn't technically needed here, but you were specially called for since the only person Satoru considered listening to was you. You stood adjacent to the poor, scrawny man currently hanging on a flimsy thread of his sanity, and the risk of the consequences that his senior was so casually posing for him. You watched the meek man deep his head down, that's when you knew you had to step in for your colleague.

“Gojo-kun, take this seriously. Calling Ichiji-san a maid is not very nice either, it's better to be considerate of people who take away the burden from you for a lot of things. A ‘thank you’ would be better than the..whatever way you're speaking.” The stern tone in your voice definitely took him aback, a strange tug taking over his chest, before he let out an uproarious guffaw, almost like he didn’t take what you said seriously. Ouch.

“Fiiine, I'll do it for you, Just for you.” He threw his hands up dramatically and it drew a wringing smile on your lips. Almost. Yaga on the other hand, was technically on the verge of snapping again at his response, but you saw the principal do EFT, making you sigh at how effortless Satoru was at everything, especially at annoying people.

"Well, thank you Ichiji, since my dear Senpai here is telling me to be polite” He hummed with a smile, a little hopeful after a bordered smile that he pulled from you, his beloved.

His fingers played with the seam of the silky fabric of his blindfold. You noticed. It was an action he often did whenever he was in the wrong about something, where he was thoughtful. It wasn't that he wanted to push the blame on Ichiji, he just wanted your attention, some sort of reaction after being ghosted so brutally after that day. The black haired man simply nodded, acknowledging the apology, darting his eyes at you with a glimmer of gratitude, for stepping up.

You knew he was meeting your eyes, though not visibly, through the restraint of his blindfold. This was not the reaction that he expected, his glossed bottom lip poking out in a pout at the non-verbal interaction between you and Ichiji. And oh how it made him feel bitter. “So did that make you happy, Senpai?” pettishly breathed out, the tonality in his voice was clipped, cold, annoyed and you just rolled your eyes, equally peeved. There was nothing poor about him, and he was getting way too comfortable even at work. But he thought he had that privilege, especially after being between your legs. Not that he understood the concept of personal space, ever.

“Forget it! No one can convince this block head, don't waste your energy. Get back to work everyone.” Yaga had evidently given up at the fact that Satoru wouldn't budge from his cockiness even after being scolded upon.

“See ya, old man” Satoru's statement was met with nothing but a door slam, followed by the presence of you and Ichiji leaving as well, no longer in the room.

He huffed, expecting him to give him an arm touch before you left and look at him with your sympathetic eyes before he'd press his lips against yours and source his energy from the suppleness of them. Fuck. He couldn't be nonchalant about you ignoring him, he was spiralling.

Something had to be done about this.

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

You being stern to him didn't really pay off well, Satoru took it too personally, so personally that he was now at your doorstep, his tall stature looming over you, his broad shoulders that were casting a shadow onto you, drenched from the rain pouring outside, almost looking like a wet dog. Your mind brimmed with questions, why wasn't his infinity on? You stepped away from the door, allowing him inside, a soft cringe taking over your features when you saw the splatters of water on your clean wooden floor. Not like he cared.

“Why weren't you carrying an umbrella?” You looked like a mother, who had her hands on either side of her waist, frustrated with her child who decided that playing around in mud was a good idea. That's what you looked like to Satoru. Cute.

He locked his eyes in yours with a snare gaze along with a playful smile settled on his lips. Not exactly in the mood for talking after your treatment towards him earlier. He grabbed your wrist with a firm, determined grip, making you stumble onto his lap, in a straddle with a soft thud. You lamented softly at the feeling of the wet fabric against your dry, warm and crisp ones.

“You're soiling my clothes, Satoru!” You grumbled further, slapping his chest, your hands quick to smooth away the new state of your clothes, as if it would help.

You swivelled your head on your neck upward, looking at him, and his face had an expression of arrogant confidence and no remorse, a smirk playing the corner of his mouth, cloudy hair plastered on his forehead as thick drops of water streamed down his pretty face in rivulets. He had no right to look this good.

“What? You can handle this much.. you've been awfully rude to me, Princess. Besides, I'm gonna get you drenched anyway.” To which your face loomed a rosy pink. He gave a raspy laugh at the end of the suggestive comment then leaned in, his breath on your cheek warm as he pressed a soft, tender kiss onto your shaded cheek, his hands now growing explorative with his touch, slipping underneath your cardigan.

“You know why I got wet in the rain?” He left the question in the air, a rhetoric as his nimble fingers unbuttoned the cardigan, his eyes half lidded, watching the wool slide down from your shoulders, edging below the lace of your bra. ‘Fuck’ he muttered, tracing his fingertips on the swell of your bosom, frantically leaning in to tether wet kisses from your collarbone to your cleavage, his large hands expanding to cup your clothed chest, circling his hands in soft fondles, earning a mewl from your lips.

His eyes snapped at your face at your reaction, face flushed and eagerly watching his each move. You wanted him. You wanted him!

“I did it to have your attention..even that stupid mission that I could've finished in seconds..did it for you, all for you..Senpai” Shaking his head as he confessed, his hands creeping down to grasp at the plush flesh of your thighs from below, picking you up to land the two of you in your bedroom. You were flattered to the depths of your heart but you just couldn't pinpoint or understand where this was coming from. It had only been 3 days since you both were together again after that night.

He slid off the long coat of his uniform, then his pants and boxers with a grunt as it clung to his skin. He moved on the bed, hovering on top of you, your eyes failing to dart away from his cock that was unbearably hard and prodding at your inner thigh.

“It's not like you don't have my attention—” you crooned, your voice to him like velvet, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace. It was a voice that caressed his ears and soothed his soul, a sound that made him want to listen to you speak forever; the sweetness and undertone of sensuality. Something an adrenaline junkie like him could get addicted to but he cut you off, to make his point.

“It's not enough…it'll never be enough. I'll never not have enough of you” He spoke in a new found desperation in his voice, his fingers hauling the material of your slacks and panties, prying open your thighs, moaning at the sight of your inviting, sodded, glistening cunt.

“All this for me?” He asked in confirmation and you shuddered at the coolness of his fingers that were tempered because of him being wet in the rain priorly.

You nodded your head frantically, your hand settled on his wrist to do something, while he teased your slit so painfully slow, at an agonising degree. “ ‘Toru..please, do something..” that pleading your voice was so satisfying, so affirmative to the light of the fact that you wanted him too. “Fuck.. baby, say it again..need you to say it again..” He pleaded, the azure of his eyes wild and crazed, a feral gleam in their depths that sent shivers down your spine.

“All for you..” That's it. Satoru flipped you over, manhandling you to settle yourself on top of him, now in front of his proud cock, while your ass was on his face, his eyes fixed on your drooling heat.

He dipped in, giving an experimental lap onto your folds, his eyes rolling back at your taste, your essence while his two fingers nudged at the stretchy, entrance muscle, slipping them in with ease, your back arching at the intrusion. His tongue drew circles onto your clit, delving to spread your already profanely exposed pussy with his free hand, smiling at how your nub was poking out, greedy for his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

His hand came down on the globe of your ass with a sharp, stinging smack, the impact making you gasp, a consecutive whine passing your lips when he stopped, your heartbeat in a thrumming beat when he stopped his ministrations and pulled away, giving you another smack, your walls fluttering even at the emptiness. “You're not facing my cock for nothing, suck on it. Make good use of your mouth other than, you know…defending another man.”

“You're full of yourself, you really are..”

Yet you obliged even as you felt vexed by his backhanded comment, your thumb moving up and down on the velvet skin, on his frenum, admiring the curve of his blessed inches before lewdly taking him in your mouth, moaning with your mouth clasped around him when he gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit, your pussy now bubbling with his spit as he ate you out so voraciously, grunting and whimpering on your core in need, in yearning. He felt a little asphyxiated at you sitting on his face, although the good kind.

The orgasm that coiled in your body finally snapped, the tip of his shaft hitting the back of your throat, his happy trail tickling against your chin, his fingers scissoring into you hard and fast, the gushy, squelching noise at the action resounded on the walls—your eyes rolling back at their sockets, his cock slipping out your mouth, red, angry but lustrous with your spit.

“Thaaat's it, fuck, cum on fingers and mouth..make a mess..” He cooed, increasing the rapidness of his fingers. The wave of tingling heat and pleasure washed over you, a wave that crested and broke as you cried out, body arching and writhing under his touch. He sighed, loudly drinking away your juices before detaching yourself from his face, moving your body to hover on you again.

He teased his fingers on your lips, letting your jaw fall slack as he pushed his fingers in. Your mouth immediately surrounded them, swirling your hot tongue to savour your taste, eyes looking in his, all perused. “Look at you, sucking on my fingers like a nasty little slut. You defended Ichiji earlier..gonna let him do this too? Huh? Tell me Senpai..” He mocked pulling out his fingers to let you speak—that led a gasp to erupt your throat. He was satisfied, seeing the glow on your cheeks, the glassed eyes. All for him.

“No Toru..all for you, just for you.. I'm yours” You cloy, tantalising the head of his cock on your slick folds, the environment in the room balmy and humid. That teasing came to a halt when he propelled himself into you with a full swarm. “You're mine, all mine..mine mine mine..no one's gonna..fuck your pussy like me, make you cum like me..no one, princess..”

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

And he fucked you stupid, so primally, so animalistically. Losing count on how many times he pulled an orgasm after orgasm out of you. Now currently having his body overbearingly pressed on yours, his chest on your back, clammy with sweat, his forearms either side of your head, the way your hips were angled made you feel every inch, hitting at spot. He grunted, picking up his upper body away, hands placed on the small of your back that felt like a voltage.

He kneaded onto the flesh of your ass, prior to drawing both your wrists together, holding them down against your back as he plunged into you in a frenzy, harder and faster, nearing the edge. His own dick raw after cumming in you too many times during the night.

Satoru whimpered at the sight of you so ravenously stretched out his length, swallowing him in as he came again, completely milked dry and your body violently quivering. He chanted your name in soft cries as he pulled out, gently fisting himself and getting out every last drop on your twitching cunny.

He dropped his body onto you like it weighed nothing, ragging breaths leaving his lips and yours. He kissed the expanse of the back of your neck, playfully blowing a raspberry on your skin, making you giggle.

“You're a freak.” You turned around, allowing your manicured hairs to trail through his hair, enjoying the texture of his silky strands, as you brushed it back from his forehead. Your touch was gentle, almost reverent, fingers carded through the locks, massaging his scalp with a light pressure that made him hum in contentment.

“I'm your freak..” The giddy, smitten smile on his face makes your heart flutter. Damn it.

“Be my girlfriend..I can't take anymore of you not being mine anymore..” He saw the hesitation flicker across your face and it caught him off guard, the sorcerer felt something drop sickeningly in his stomach. Definitely his heart.

“...Let me think about it, okay?” He rolled his eyes before pinning your wrists above your head in bravado.

“You want me. I was inside you. I tasted you. That is a truth you will never escape.” He smiled, self assured, seeing the heat crawl on your cheeks at his crude yet factual comment.

“You're blushing..” He pointed, leaning his head downward, fighting the idiotic grin that was slowly lacing his handsome face at your reaction. He hummed, nosing your nipple faintly, before giving it a quick lap.

“So..? Never saw anyone fall for your charm before?” You raise your brow and he snorts, giving a soft bite on the supple flesh of your nipple with a chuckle at your gasp, immediately soothing it with a lick. “Yeah I have seen someone not fall for it, it's you.”

“Well, it doesn't matter because tomorrow I'm telling everyone that you're my girlfriend, especially Ichiji” He proudly replied, pulling you to his chest, inhaling deeply to let your scent tickle his senses.

“You're not gonna lose on this are you?” your arm wrapped around his waist, signalling him that you weren't exactly opposed to the idea.

“Nope, I'm the strongest for a reason” He spoke in his ever unwavering swagger and you could only sigh, being a loser in his love.

[u5an5]

Just watched Deadpool & Wolverine with polish subs based on dub and I have to be honest, there's much more funny stuff than I expected, considering that the rest of it made me glad I'm not watching it with actual dub

So, things that picked my interest:

Instead "207 when I watch Gossip Girl" he straight up says "207 when I watch porn" (Gossip Girl isn't especialy popular show here so reference wouldn't mean anything for majority of audience anyway, but to straight up say it instead replacing it?)

"Ok peanut, 'guess we're getting that team-up after all" got replaced with "Okej ptysiu, nie ma to jak seks grupowy", which translates to "Okay cutiepie, nothing better than group sex" (??? we're still in the first 5 minutes of the movie)

"you know what they say, when one door closes, your locker at work opens" translated to "Jak to mówią… Jak zamykają od przodu, to ładujesz się od tyłu" which translates roughly to "Like they say... when they close the front, you get in the behind" which I find kinda funny

Peters line about seeing Wade in suit comes of gayish cause he doesn't say he wants to see him in the suit again, he wants to LOOK at him in it again, you know what I mean

intead "This guy looks ready to throw it all away for me" he says "This cutie would gladly get hugged by my bowels" which is a lot more straightforward than I expected

Wades spiel to comic acurate height Wolverine is much more insulting and instead being all "what a cwute short king you awe" translates to "Oh fuck, a furball dwarf? Was there even dwarf like that? Furballs mommy drank lots of booze when she was pregnant? Maybe daddy was a ratferret? Don't even come near me, 'cause you surely have ticks"

"I need you to come with me, right now" to "Zapraszam cię na randke, i to natychmiast" meaning "I invite you to a date, and I mean right now" (Logan replies with "Złotko, nie kręci mnie to" which translates to "Sweetie, I'm not diggin' it" and by "it" I'm honestly not sure if he means Wade himself, the fact that Wade said he's only here because he's the Wolverine just a second ago, or because his suit looks like fetish gear)

"It's quite common to Wolverines after 40" to "It's normal when going trough menopause, I get it"

they replaced "peanut" to different endearments to not be repetive but the most often used one is "ptysiu" (ptyś is a choux pastry; if I had to translate it as english endearment, I'd go with cutiepie). its cute imo

Logans "bub" also got replaced by endearments/insults losely fitting situation but the stupidest one has to be Logan calling Johnny "misiu", which translates to "little bear" and let me tell you, it's HILARIOUS cause it's equvalent of calling a random guy "sweetie" but in the "your grandma asking if you want seconds (yes you do, no you don't have any say)" way

"my boy's wicked strong" is translated to "mój chłopak zna się na rzeczy". It's slightly like the papi situation from spanish dub cause yes, "chłopak"'s direct translation is often "boyfriend" but it is also used as "boy", "guy" or "dude", usualy towards guys younger/about the same age as you. However, the addition of "mój"/"mine, my" makes it much more angled towards boyfriend, wherever they wanted to or not. There are at least three different ways to translate it and make it less gae I know and the've still chosen this one.

They made, in my opinion, the "its a common curtesy to ask" "Its good thing I don't give a fuck" lines better by translating them to "you shoud've ask, thats polite thing to do" "and you can politely fuck off"

they replaced Star Trek reference with Star Wars one, using Han Solo instead Spock and idk. on one hand they did it to THE spirk moment but on the other they made, and I may be reaching, but it seems like covert reference to "I know" scene so ??? (star trek is nowewhere near as known as star wars here so they would probs replace it either way but it also can be just "star trek and star wars sound so much alike, they have to be basically the same, right?" haha joke)

them instead innuendos using the most over the top forms of insult that no one ever heard is kinda funny but only because I only had to read them; if I ever heard somone call somebody "kutasina" irl I would find a way for at least one of us to not be able to hear anything ever again ("cockleter" is my best attempt to recreate this horseshit)

If you guys want to share some treasures from your native dubs/subs, feel free to

[lihhelsing]

"Can I get your coffee order?"

STWG daily prompt 6/2/24 (let's pretend it's not two days late): Coming Out Pairing: steddie | tags: coming out, coffee shop au, modern au, meet cute, fluff

Eddie was used to seeing the same guy in the coffee shop every day. It was impossible not to notice him because he was gorgeous and Eddie was a simple man who liked to admire beautiful things. 

So Steve would come in every day and always at the same time, ordering the same thing. Double Espresso with a shot of Vanilla. It suited him, Eddie thought, but he would always see him looking at the menu as if he was considering ordering something different, just to end up with the same thing every day. 

It was kind of cute. 

Sometimes he would sit alone for half an hour, face buried in his phone. Sometimes a loud brunette girl would join him but then they would never stay for long. Eddie didn’t like those days even if he thought she looked like a nice person. 

And then sometimes Steve would come in and order for two, then he would proceed to sit at a table and in a few minutes a girl would join him. Always a different girl, which told Eddie none of them were his girlfriends. 

One could even think this was some sort of job interview because it was pretty clear Steve wasn’t fully into the conversation. He was trying, sure, but after an hour the girl would inevitably excuse herself and leave. Steve would hang out for a few more minutes and then leave too, not looking back. 

And he’d do it all over again on a different day. 

Eddie couldn’t even feel guilty about paying attention. Steve always came in when the rush hour had passed and the coffee shop was mostly empty, and Eddie didn’t have much to do. And yeah, sure he was also a little obsessed with him so he was curious what was all that about. 

Surely Steve didn’t seem the kind of guy to have dating issues. 

The day Eddie noticed something was different was when Steve came in and ordered a Chai Latte. For anyone else, this might mean nothing, but Eddie knew better and he had watched Steve for long enough to know that if he finally changed his order after months, something was up. 

He didn’t want to look like a creep so he smiled like he always did and thanked the fat tip Steve left him, like he always did. And maybe Eddie flirted a little, but who could blame him? Steve was just too handsome for his own good and Eddie was just a man. 

Eddie gave him his drink and politely waited for a few minutes just to make sure Steve wasn’t expecting anyone, and then he finally moved in. 

“Hey, how’s your drink?” Eddie asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. Steve looked up at him through thick eyelashes and Eddie wanted to die a little. 

“Oh, it’s good. I never had one of these so I can’t really compare it to anything else, but I like how it tastes.”

Eddie hummed, “Well, tell you what, I make a mean Matchá if you ever feel like broadening your horizons.”

Steve chuckled and nodded, “I might take you up on that, actually.”

They stood in silence and Eddie was ready to accept his defeat when Steve spoke again. 

“I just… Started to realize I might want to try different things.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “how so?”

“Well, I used to drink the same coffee every day and it was good, don’t get me wrong. But I kept looking and looking and it felt like I was... Missing something,” Steve frowned as he spoke, almost as if he was talking about coffee but thinking about something else. 

“It’s what they say, don’t knock it til you try it, am I right?”

Steve chuckled and Eddie was under the impression he was just being polite. 

“For sure. It’s just hard sometimes, to try new things. Even if you are… Curious.”

“I say just go for it. The worst that can happen is you spend a few bucks on something you will never want to drink again, but if that ever happens I got you. I’ll get you something different on the house,” Eddie said and then he winked because he was a sick little man. 

The blush that crept onto Steve’s cheek was beautiful, though, so he was only half-sorry. 

“Oh, what if… It’s not coffee that I want to try?” Steve said, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

Eddie smiled and motioned his hand to the drink menu, “Lucky for you we have an assortment of drinks like refreshers and matchá and even some teas-“

“I mean, what if this isn’t about drinks?” 

Now Eddie was completely lost. He looked back to meet Steve’s eyes and there was an intensity behind them that gave him chills. 

“What do you mean?”

“I, um…” Steve looked around as if making sure the place was empty and still lowered his voice a little. “What if I’m not as straight as I always thought I was?”

Eddie tried to contain his surprise and forced his expression to remain neutral, not wanting to spook him. 

“That’s ok, too. Lord knows I’m gay as it comes and it took me a few tries to figure it out,” Eddie chuckled, but Steve’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “I mean, you don’t have to be gay either! You can be bi or pan or-“

“Sorry, I made this awkward. I’m sorry. I’ve just been having these feelings and Robin says I can always talk to her but it feels that if I even ask it will be real and then if I turn out to be just confused then she will be disappointed because she always said I was her straight token friend but I know she would be happy if I wasn’t-“

“Hey, hey,” Eddie moved his hand and touched Steve’s shoulder lightly. He just hoped he wasn’t crossing a line. That definitely wasn’t the first time a customer said something incredibly personal out of the blue, but it was the first time someone was coming out to him like that. 

Steve looked up at him with huge brown eyes and Eddie felt his insides melting a little. Here it was, this cute guy having a sexuality crisis and just looking even cuter. 

“I don’t know you and obviously don’t know this friend of yours. Robin, is it? But if she loves you, and I’m assuming she does, she will love you no matter what. Even if you have to come out to her as… Straight?” Eddie said that and got a snort back from Steve. 

At least that was better than the desolation he had in his eyes before. 

“I guess you’re right,” Steve said, nodding his head. 

“And hey, you can definitely try things out and figure out you were straight all along, but from my experience, straight people don’t usually question their sexuality or even feel the curiosity to do so. They just are. So my best bet would be on you being one of us. Assuming your friend Robin is also not straight.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Steve said, laughing and he just looked so much better like that. 

“Well, ok Steve, then my job here is done! I’m sure Robin will have much better advice to give to you, but you can always count on me to try different coffees,” and there it was, the fucking wink again. Who did Eddie think he was? 

Steve blushed again and now Eddie could see they were pretty damn close. He slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s shoulder as to not make him uncomfortable, but it seemed that Eddie’s pep talk had done the trick because now Steve had this glint in his eyes. 

“Can I buy you coffee?” he asked, smiling slowly. 

“Uh, what?”

“You know, since I’m already trying things I thought it would be nice to try uh… A Matchá, you said? And a… Date?”

Holy fucking Jesus. Steve was fucking smooth. Eddie felt his cheeks getting warm and he looked around to conclude they were still alone at the coffee shop. There was not a single reason for him to turn this down even if Steve ended up figuring out he was straight. Yeah, fat chance. 

“Lead the way, big boy,” Eddie motioned for the counter and Steve smiled, nodding and following him right into their first date. 

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore

There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.

It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on. 

The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense. 

Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.

Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.

Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.

Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.

And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika. 

He also had his cursed technique. 

Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.

For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–

“Everything okay, Yuuta?”

He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.” 

You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”

You don’t know the half of it. 

“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”

—

Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.

“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”

Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out. 

Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured. 

When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?” 

Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.  

Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”

“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”

His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.

At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”

His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.

Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes. 

“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”

“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”

Yuuta stills entirely. 

Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”

—

It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.

The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse. 

“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”

Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”

And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence. 

Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale. 

“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”

Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.

But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there. 

No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.

By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–

The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.

It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face. 

Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out. 

Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off. 

A small, soft smile tugs at his lips. 

Perfect, beautiful girl. 

Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.

You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe. 

Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts. 

There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together. 

It’s better this way. You’ll see.

[solxamber]

Cake and Crime - Jade Leech x reader

After a long week of assignments and sleep deprivation, all you wanted to do was satisfy your craving for a specific pastry at your local shady café. What you didn't mean to do was accidentally order a hit on yourself.

It all started with a misunderstanding. To be fair, things like this always seemed to start with a misunderstanding, but this one really took the cake. And, of course, it involved Jade Leech, because why wouldn’t it?

You’d been to the Mostro Lounge before—after all, it was the go-to place for your family gatherings. Azul’s idea of a café-slash-business-operation had gotten buzz, and like everyone else, you found yourself sipping a drink and enjoying the food, none the wiser to the shady dealings that went on behind the scenes.

And why would you know? Despite being an heir of a crime family, you had absolutely no idea that your family was basically the mafia. No one had ever sat you down and said, "Hey, just so you know, we're kind of in the business of making problems disappear."

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve been suspicious when your uncle’s "bakery business" never seemed to actually bake anything, or when your aunt talked about "solving problems" with a knowing wink. But you chalked it up to eccentricity. After all, who wouldn’t believe their family was just full of quirky folks?

This week was a disaster for you. Everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong. You hadn't slept in three days and had about five papers due in two. So, you really needed a pick-me-up, and where better to go than your usual place?

Of course, when you wandered into the Mostro Lounge for your usual drink, Jade Leech, with his ever-present smile, was behind the counter, asking in his polite way, “What can I get for you today?”

Without thinking much, you let out a long, exhausted sigh and said, “You know what? I could really use something sweet. Do you guys do special orders? Like, something custom?”

Jade, ever the picture of politeness, raised an eyebrow, his smile polite but predatory. “Special order, you say?”

You nodded. Maybe they’d have what you were craving. "I heard you guys can make it happen."

Jade’s smile widened ever so slightly, and you swore his sharp teeth glinted under the dim lighting. “Ah, yes. Special orders.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And what exactly were you looking to order?”

You thought for a second before blurting out, “I’ve been craving a Thai tea pastry with cream cheese. Maybe with boba, too?”

Jade paused, his eyes glinting for just a moment before his usual grin returned. “A Thai tea pastry with cream cheese, you say?”

You nodded, leaning on the counter, not noticing the flicker of interest in his expression.

“And who is the lucky recipient of this… special treat?” he asked.

You shot him a confused look before pointing at yourself. "It's for me."

“Of course,” Jade replied, already scribbling in his little notepad. “Consider it handled. You'll receive your delivery in a few hours.”

Handled. Now, at the time, you hadn’t thought much of that word. You figured Jade was just being friendly, efficient, the perfect worker he always was. So, naturally, after putting in your "order," you headed back to your family’s estate, feeling strangely lighter.

Later that night, as you sat down for dinner with your brothers, you casually brought it up. “Hey, guys, I put in an order at Mostro Lounge today. Jade said he’s going to ‘handle’ everything for me.”

Your two older brothers, hardened men who’d seen more than their fair share of the family’s business, froze mid-bite. Forks clattered against plates as they slowly turned to stare at you with wide, horrified eyes.

“W-What?” the eldest sputtered, his voice rising several octaves. “You… you put in an order?”

“Yeah,” you replied, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing. “I asked for a Thai tea pastry with cream cheese and white boba. You know, to get rid of my craving.”

The middle brother choked on his drink, sputtering wildly. “You… WHAT?!”

Your confusion only deepened. “I just needed some stress relief! It’s not that big of a deal. Jade said he’d take care of it.”

They stared at you in disbelief, as if you’d just told them you’d sold your soul to a demon—which, considering who you’d been talking to, wasn’t far from the truth.

The eldest brother put his hands on the table, looking like he was about to have a mental breakdown. “Do you even know what you just did?”

Your other brother, slightly more composed but clearly panicking, started pacing. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Now, it was your turn to look concerned. “Okay, what is going on? Why are you both freaking out?”

The eldest brother ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. “You… you used a code, you idiot!”

“A… code?” You blinked. “What kind of code?”

Your middle brother, still pacing, stopped long enough to stare at you incredulously. “*Thai tea cake with cream cheese*?! That’s not a pastry order! That’s a request to kill someone! It’s the ‘break their legs but don’t kill them quickly’ code! And white boba means 'make it as painful as possible!'”

You gaped, your stomach dropping as realization hit. “Wait, WHAT?”

Your eldest brother slowly knelt in front of you and asked, “Did you mention who the order is for?”

When you slowly nodded and pointed at yourself, his face dropped, and he let out a long-suffering sigh.

Your middle brother groaned, shaking his head. “And you told Jade Leech—the most terrifying guy in Mostro—to ‘handle it’?!”

Panic set in as you finally started piecing it together. “Wait, so I didn’t just… order a cake?”

Your eldest brother gave you a deadpan look. “No, you didn’t. You ordered a hit. On yourself.”

You ordered a hit. On yourself.

You stared, wide-eyed, as the words sank in. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

The middle brother waved his arms frantically. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying!”

Jumping to your feet, you knocked your chair back and grabbed your coat. “I need to fix this! How do I fix this?!”

The eldest sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “You need to go back and cancel the order before Jade actually follows through!”

Which led to your current mad dash back to the Mostro Lounge, heart pounding as you practically burst through the doors. Breathless, you ran up to the counter where Jade stood, his ever-pleasant smile already in place.

“Ah, welcome back,” Jade said, his tone smooth and unbothered. “I was just about to finalize your… order.”

“No!” You flailed, hands waving wildly. “I need to cancel it! Cancel the whole thing! I didn’t mean it!”

Jade’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned on the counter, his sharp teeth barely peeking through his smile. “Cancel it? Are you sure? You seemed quite certain earlier.”

“I’m very sure!” you said, desperate. “It was a huge misunderstanding!”

Jade hummed thoughtfully, his fingers tapping the counter. “Misunderstanding or not, it was quite an amusing order. I must admit, it’s not every day someone orders a hit on themselves.”

You slumped against the counter, groaning. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Jade chuckled, a low, amused sound. “Not at all. But… I suppose I can let this one slide. After all,” he added with a wicked grin, “it’s far too entertaining to see you squirm like this.”

You sighed in relief, but Jade wasn’t done. He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Though, I must ask… are you certain you don’t want anything else? Perhaps a ‘shaken not stirred’? Or maybe a ‘dark roast with extra cream’?”

You squinted, half-curious, half-terrified. “Uh… what do those mean?”

Jade’s grin widened. “The first is full-blown sabotage. The second? Well, let’s just say that’s for when you want someone to ‘vanish.’ Permanently.”

You shuddered. “Yeah, definitely not. Just cancel the ‘pastry,’ and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Jade straightened, still smiling. “As you wish.”

Relief started to wash over you, but the look in Jade’s eyes—sharp, calculating, amused—told you that this situation was far from over.

“So, it’s… canceled, right?” you asked, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t haunt you forever.

Jade tilted his head, considering you for a moment. His smile never faltered, but there was a glint of something more behind it—something that made you feel like you were still caught in some kind of trap. “Hmm… I did say I would cancel it, yes. But I must admit, it’s not often I receive such an… intriguing request. Canceling something this entertaining doesn’t come without a price.”

You blinked. “Wait, a price? I thought you said you’d let it slide!”

Jade’s grin widened, the sharp edges of his teeth visible as he stepped out from behind the counter, moving closer. “Oh, I am letting it slide. But everything comes with a little negotiation, don’t you think?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Jade was standing much closer than you anticipated, and the way his mismatched eyes gleamed under the soft lounge lighting had you frozen in place. You weren’t sure if you were more terrified or intrigued at this point.

“And… what kind of negotiation are we talking about?” you asked warily.

Jade chuckled softly, his voice almost a purr. “Oh, nothing too extreme, I assure you. You see, I was thinking…” He paused, letting the moment stretch out as his gaze lingered on you, the tension in the air growing by the second. “…that you could spend a little time with me. Consider it compensation for the… cancelation.”

Your mouth went dry. “Time with you?”

He nodded, his smile still soft, but the teasing look in his eyes told you that this was no ordinary request. “You’ve caught my interest, after all. It’s only fair that I take the opportunity to get to know you better, don’t you think?”

You swallowed hard, trying to process what he was saying. “So… if I spend time with you, we’ll call it even? No hit, no thai tea cake, nothing?”

“Exactly,” Jade replied smoothly. “Just a pleasant exchange. I’d say it’s quite a generous offer, wouldn’t you?”

Generous? Sure. But the way he was looking at you made it feel like you were walking into another trap—though maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t one you’d mind falling into.

You hesitated, glancing at the door and then back at Jade. “And what would… spending time with you entail?”

Jade’s grin softened slightly, becoming a bit more genuine. “Oh, nothing too outrageous. A few meals, perhaps. A walk through the botanical gardens. Maybe I’ll even show you some of the more… exclusive areas of the Mostro Lounge.”

Your heart was pounding now, and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves, excitement, or a mix of both. Spending time with Jade Leech sounded like playing with fire, but… well, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that had sparked inside you.

“Well…” you said slowly, glancing up at him. “I guess that’s better than being taken out by one of your ‘special services.’”

Jade chuckled again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Much better, I’d say. Shall we start now?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

Jade stepped back slightly, gesturing toward the lounge’s main seating area. “Why not? I’m free for the evening, and I believe you’ve already cleared your schedule, haven’t you?”

There was no escaping this, was there? But, surprisingly, you didn’t really want to. With a deep breath, you nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. I guess I’m yours for the evening.”

Jade’s grin returned, bright and sharp. “I’ll hold you to that.”

And as he led you to one of the more private booths in the lounge, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this was the most dangerous, yet exciting, order you’d ever made.

Masterlist

[syoddeye]

consequence / snowball

price x f!reader | 2k words series directory | ao3 tags: exes, angst, cheating, references to depression. a/n: good things come to those who wait. ☕

it’s strange to think there’s a man in the living room.

by invitation. you’d extend it further and lure him down the hall to your room, but he might not appreciate it, considering you shit the bed by crying like an infant in front of him.

it’s the beer and ben. you should’ve arranged for delivery or left his things on the street. would’ve been less personal that way, safer, but you had to know—if you’d feel anything, if he’d ooze regret. you came out two for two, slapped with clarity. not only was ben unrepentant, he was happy. happier without you.

you gaze at the hyacinths above your bed. they remind you of john’s eyes. soothing.

~~~~

there’s a weight on john’s chest when he wakes.

cece purrs contentedly. she butts into his chin as he stretches, one hand stalling her advance to his face and the other scrubbing over his eyes. he tucks her to his chest as he stands and scratches under her chin while staring at the door at the end of the hall, pushed open to the width of a cat. not a sound.

he starts the kettle. it’s only polite.

in her cupboards, he finds the coffee and a collection of novelty mugs. he settles for ‘not paint water’ and ‘black coffee’ in the style of black flag. 

she can’t meet simon. he’d steal her.

john refills cece’s water, then tiptoes around the living room. with the added context, he examines the decor and art in a new light. he wonders if she looks at them with pain or contempt. if any inspire positive thoughts, or if they’ve been stripped of them. if she, like him, keeps tokens regardless of sentiment. monuments to his own failings, shortcomings, and triumphs. and, if she does, how he’ll drown out the bad with good.

she startles him.

“morning.” she stands at the mouth of the hall, in sweats and a t-shirt, voice thick with sleep. “did you…?” 

“hope you don’t mind.” he watches her shuffle languidly. “i don’t know if you prefer coffee or tea, but figured the kettle’s necessary either way.”

she hums and retrieves a glass pour-over from a cupboard. “i’m just impressed you’re here at all.”

you of little faith.

“not the type to flee a woman’s flat without a proper goodbye.”

“no? you often stay over at women’s flats?” her back is turned, but he hears the smile in her voice. “what constitutes a proper goodbye?”

his gaze lingers before he joins, ignoring the questions for his own sanity. “sleep well?”

after pouring water over the coffee grounds, she turns and leans, the picture of nonchalance, save for the puffy and still somewhat bloodshot eyes.

it’s not right to burn paintings, but he’d set fire to her ex’s studio, gallery—wherever the rat held his collection—if he believed it’d make her feel better.

“yes, actually. last night was, um, cathartic.”

he tilts closer, laying a palm flat on the counter beside her hip. “i assume there’s more to the story, but it’s your choice. i won’t pry any further. just say the word.” 

“no, no. i want to tell you.” she sighs, focusing on the drip. “you’re right. i didn’t get to the best part.”

to that, he has no immediate answer. no inclination to rush her into conversation when she’s barely awake. in the brief silence, her dejection and shame seep into the space like the water filtering through the grounds. 

john pulls out his phone, tapping through screens. “gonna need somethin’ to eat, sounds like. you been to…hm. ‘for goodness bakes’ bakery?”

she frowns over her shoulder. “john, i’m not suitable for public consumption.”

he lifts a brow. “debatable, but i mean to pop out and pick up breakfast. do you have a preference?”

slipping from his place beside her, he weaves around cece and heads for his shoes and jacket.

“you don’t have to–”

“i know. preference?”

across her flat, she fights back a smile and he fights his impulses.

“raspberry-filled doughnut.”

sweet. suits her. “rog. lock the door after me, shower, and i’ll be back before you know it.”

~~~~

the water feels hot, no matter how low you turn the temperature. 

such a complicated influx of thought. flirting with john is effortless. talking is easy. he cuts through your guilt and grief like an icebreaking ship with none of the force or command. and he listens. really listens. you could stare at the divot between his eyebrows all day, the way his face grows serious, and his eyes somehow warmer. 

for the first time in months, you genuinely fuss over clothes and skincare beyond moisturizer. are you pathetic? is this pathetic? you ask cece, she slow blinks and slaps the tie to your robe. inconclusive.

a knock at the door. you yank a shirt over your head, assess, and force yourself to walk calmly from your room.

don’t rush this.

~~~~

she smells faintly of citrus. coffee, too. though that may be the steaming mugs set between them.

“good?”

“the best,” her cheek bulges with a bite. her eyes don’t stray from the pastry, its fruity entrails spilled onto a plate. “thanks.”

they eat in relative silence, but he catches her staring at his bicep twice. 

“rethinking your compliments?” he flexes the mermaid’s tail, dusting croissant flakes off his fingers.

her turn to ignore a question. she asks her own. “y’know, i never asked. do you live far?”

“across town.”

“and yet you come to the shop, what, three times a week when you’re in town?”

four, if he’s lucky. “good coffee. decent service.”

“right.”

she finishes and licks sugar off her thumb. john tears away to clear the table, ignoring another protest. last thing he wants to do is turn a lovely morning into an awkward one. he joins her on her couch, taking what feels like is quickly becoming his spot and prompting cece to sit on his lap.

“where did i leave off?” she asks rhetorically, staring into her mug. “ben’s big break. right. he was only originally supposed to be away for two weeks painting a mural for an architect’s office. well, midway through the job, the architect introduced him to a friend who happened to own a gallery.”

“the snowball.”

“yes. of course, ben’s gifted, but like i said, he’s got personality. the, uh, hustle. i can’t blame him for seeing an opportunity and taking it. at least that opportunity.”

john hesitates to address the continued self-deprecation with how her voice wraps around the very telling ‘that’. he bites his tongue and picks his battle. another day, he’ll help tear that veil of doubt from her eyes.

“anyway, his two week long trip spun out into six.” she winces. “he didn’t end up coming back once. not to grab more clothes or anything. he just had me send some along with selected pieces. he said there was no time.”

“and hannah?”

“neck-deep with the final school exhibition.” she goes quiet, lost in her barely-touched coffee. swallowing, her gaze lifts. “she was…busy.”

john sets his mug aside out of concern for the ceramic’s integrity.

“things became difficult. ben said he wanted to try long-distance before, so i thought six weeks was a decent trial run. i wasn’t well, but texting and calling him kept me afloat. then he started getting busier, and couldn’t text or call every day. one weekend, he didn’t answer at all. he did apologize, though, and sent me flowers—not as nice as yours, though. yellow somethings. kind of garish.”

he mirrors her small, sad smile, dropping it when she looks away. it’s deeply selfish and painfully juvenile to revel in that detail, but he does.

“eventually, his trip ended. things improved, rapidly, like he was eager to make up for lost time. dates, gifts, love notes. it was nice. he booked more work, but he bought a car, so he’d stay home during the week and travel on weekends. i couldn’t tag along often, since weekends are the busiest days at the shop, but he promised he’d be home for our anniversary.”

cece migrates. the ball of warmth leaves him for her mum, tucking her purring self into his girl’s lap. she sets her coffee down and idly strokes the creature, leaning hard into the cushions, holding her cheek with a palm. her focus drifts elsewhere for a minute.

he knew the story would inevitably reach this point. the crash. it’s difficult to believe he was so angry over a stupid dent.

“you don’t have to continue.”

“no, i want you to understand, john.”

his name’s enough to shut his mouth.

“at dinner, ben gave me his phone to show the photographs that a local paper was going to publish alongside an article about his work. i didn’t think anything of it, other than i thought he looked handsome. so i kept swiping.”

a gear turns in his head.

“and in the background of the last picture, ben and hannah were attached at the mouths.”

his blood boils. it is good his hands are empty.

“you know, i think he wanted me to find out like that. in public, where he didn’t think i’d make a scene.”

~~~~

ben called you crazy. crazy. 

he’d taken his phone back with this look on his face and immediately demanded you lower your voice. you asked him point blank—how long?

he muttered something. months.

you’re not proud that you tossed a glass of wine into his face. knowing him, he was going to turn the breakup into a fucking piece. when he shot back from the table, he had the gall to act surprised and embarrassed. you contemplated throwing your glass, too, as he stormed out.

but he wasn’t worth it. 

you’d lose your job. which you’d need, since you were definitely on your own now.

the bottle of wine you drank that night couldn’t cover the bitter taste in your mouth, nor could it erase the fact that ben won.

and you lost.

~~~~

outside, john loiters at the top of the stairs. the cooler air helps mellow his temper.

“sure i can’t sort him out for you? i know a man or two who’d help. there’d be no connection to you.” he smiles. if only she knew the sincerity of the offer.

“i’m sure, john. i’ll let you know if that changes. walk you to the corner?”

he shelves his anger for later. when her arm slips through his without asking, it’s swiftly shoved to the back. he squeezes her hand against his ribs. 

“i’m curious about something.” john admits. “earlier. you insisted on tellin’ me everything so i’d ‘understand’.”

she hums.

“it’s not as though i didn’t follow. i did. i do, but i’m not entirely sure what you meant by that.”

at the corner, she withdraws and shoves her hands into her pockets. “i needed you to hear all the, uh, gruesome details. so you know what you’re getting into.”

“getting into?” his chest tightens.

a look of resolve falls over her face. her voice is the firmest he’s heard outside the shop, calling customers to pick up their orders.

“i made the mistake of rushing things before. i’m not keen to do it again. if you like being around me, john, which i think you do,”

more than you know.

“you should know i want to take whatever this is slow and steady. i don’t want to screw up again.”

he grasps for the right thing to say. slow and steady. he can do both. he’s laid on his belly for days waiting for a shot and knows the consequences of missing. to seize opportunity when it’s in front of him.

and this one’s finally wandered into his crosshairs.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for inkwell; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Oh, you don’t have to do those, you’re the one cooking,” Billy says. Lynn pauses again, then looks up again with another frown. 

“What?” he says. 

“Um–if somebody cooks for you, the polite thing to do is do the dishes for them after. So I can do ‘em,” Billy clarifies, because probably Cadmus actually wasn’t really very interested in teaching Lynn, like, normal manners and stuff, come to think. Because Lynn wouldn’t have needed to know that, if they weren’t ever gonna be letting him go be normal. 

Jerks. 

Lynn stares blankly at him again. He’s holding a dish. Billy hopes he’s not embarrassed or anything. It makes sense that he doesn’t know, obviously, and even if it didn’t make sense it’s not like Billy’d hold it against him, but, like–obviously Lynn doesn’t know that kind of thing yet. 

It’s probably gonna be a while before he does, Billy figures. Though Lynn’s technically still really little, so he might have an easier time letting his guard down a little? He hasn’t really had much life experience to tell him he shouldn’t, so . . . 

Billy . . . well, he learned pretty quick not to let his guard down too quick in a new foster home. Or, like . . . ever, really. At all. 

He’d like it if Lynn just . . . didn’t have to, though. Didn’t have to learn that kind of thing, he means. Like–yeah, definitely Lynn should keep his guard up on patrol and missions and stuff, but not at home. 

There’s not any kryptonite in the apartment for a reason. Pretty much the same reason Billy wants Lynn to be able to let his guard down. 

“You want to . . . do the dishes,” Lynn says slowly. 

“Yeah,” Billy says. “I mean–if you like doing them yourself it’s fine, just since you cooked I thought I should at least, you know, offer?” 

Lynn stares blankly at him some more. He does that a lot. Billy wonders if Lynn’s maybe just not very good at using facial expressions yet, come to think. That might make sense, right? He saw some pictures of the other genomorphs in the mission report, and most of them didn’t have very expressive-seeming faces either, and almost nobody actually human-looking spent too much time working down on Lynn’s sublevel, it seemed like. And also the head security guy apparently wore a helmet with a half-mask involved, and Dr. Desmond was, um . . . maybe not a great person for Lynn to be taking any cues from, considering–plus who even knows how hands-on he was in the lab anyway–so maybe Lynn just still hasn’t seen all that many expressions yet. Like, outside of his uploads and stuff, anyway. Or maybe he just didn’t see all that many of them “growing up”, depending on how awake he was for that? 

Or both, maybe. Maybe just both? 

Cadmus did not do a very good job teaching Lynn how to be somebody outside Cadmus, Billy is pretty sure. Which, well–yeah. Of course it wouldn’t have. 

Cadmus didn’t want Lynn to ever be somebody outside it, or even be outside it at all. 

That’s just so, so messed up.

[readychilledwine]

Crush

Summary - Deciding to take a yoga class may have been the best decision you've ever made

Warnings - plus size reader, discussions of gym culture and health

A/n - fic 3 for @cassianappreciationweek day 7! We get NSFW from here 💕

🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

The clang of weights was almost as annoying as the front desk girl staring at you. You hated gyms, hated the judgment that came with walking into one, hated the way people stared at you as if you weren't the ideal person to actually be at a place for improving yourself. 

“Look,” you interrupted her politely, “I am fully aware I am paying more to take this class because I don't have a membership. Considering I'm just trying out this fitness thing, not really interested in spending $100 a month just then also pay $80 for the one class I'm interested in taking.” Her smiled dropped slightly as she just nodded and took your card, finishing your sign up for the yoga course you and 3 of your closest friends were trying. 

You knew she was just trying to meet her numbers, but it was something from gym culture you hated. The constant pushing to join their cult and have access to “everything” instead of just being able to pay for the classes you were interested in was crazy to you. The way gym culture pushed looking a certain way to be considered healthy and attractive also bothered you greatly. 

Health had to do with more than just the numbers on the scales. It had to do with your mind, your soul, and that was what you were here to work. Your mind and soul, and if you happened to gain some muscle strength from yoga, that was just an added bonus. You were all wanting to try yoga as a form of stress relief, relaxation, and self care.  No pressure, no expectations, just fun. 

The four of you were all laughing as you headed into the gym, not even bothering to stop and look at anyone or anything going on. In your mind, it was just a scene you'd watched hundreds of times. Ripped men showing off their muscles, gym girls vlogging their “workouts” in outfits you never would be caught wearing. You were here for you, not for the show someone thought they could put on for you.

Cassian was in a squat rack, watching you through the mirror as he stood with weights resting on his wide shoulders. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Every curve, every strand of hair. You were perfect in his eyes. Rhys followed his glance before grinning, “That's my assistant. Y/n!” 

You glanced up, instantly waving at Rhys and he waved back. He motioned for you to come over, “Hello, darling. What brings you here?”

“Yoga,” you shrugged. “Trying it for stress relief. Mean boss and all!” 

Rhysand laughed at your response, eyes sparkling, “You brought water?” You nodded to him. “Good, that room gets way too hot. I admire the yoga classes, but I can't do it. Oh! By the way,” he motioned to Cassian, “this is my brother, Cassian. You know Az from security.”

And that's when it began.

Two months. Two long months of you and Cassian trading no more than your names, smiles, and slightly flirtatious banter and digs at each other when you would cross paths at the water fountain. 

Today was his day, though. Today he'd finally ask if you wanted him to help you workout, and if you said no, he'd offer dinner instead. Rhys had been forced into telling him every detail of your life. He knew your favorite color, food, how you took coffee. He felt like he knew about you, but now he truly needed to know you.

He needed more than glances that left you blushing. Needed more than you making him go home and spend his night staring at the ceiling in his empty bed wondering if you liked him the way he liked you.

Today was his day. He knew it as he kept glancing at you.

Two months had sucked you into your own version of gym culture, and while your goal was still more the stress relief, you had to admit it was fun watching your booty get even better. You had to also admit deep down that you had other reasons for coming to the gym outside of yoga class, though. That reason was 6’5”, dark curly hair, swirling tribal tattoos, and looking oh so delicious in his black shorts today.

You reminded yourself you were mainly here to focus on you. To get yourself into your head space and earn the snacks waiting for you at home, and zeroed in on the goal of reaching 10,000 stairs by the end of the week.

You were deep into your workout and in your own world when Cassian approached, admiring each jiggle not so secretly, “So y/n.”

“MOTHER F-” you cover your mouth, slapping the emergency stop button and feeling his hand instantly stabilizing you by touching your back. “You scared me!”

“I can tell,” he chuckled back. “I was just wondering if you wanted to try free weights with me today? I spot you? Teach you some stuff?”

I blinked at him, “Really?” He nodded almost boyishly, a playful grin on his face. “I can't spot you, though.”

He motioned over her shoulder to your boss and Azriel, “They exist still. Unfortunately.”

You bit your lip, knowing you'd look so out of place beside the 3 of them. “Cassian, I don't really work out to be-”

“You work out to take care of stress and eat whatever snacks you want. I know. Rhys told me. You'll get tired of cardio soon, so learning another area wouldn't hurt.”

You glared towards Rhys, “Traitor.”

“Is that a yes?”

You sighed and nodded, wiping down the handles of the machine you were on before letting him pull you over to Rhys and Azriel.

One workout became two. Two became twice a week. Twice a week became him coming over and enjoying snacks and a movie. Snacks and movie became dinner with Cassian at an expensive restaurant with Rhys, his wife, Feyre, Azriel, and his possibly girlfriend, Nesta. 

The table was silent as Cassian ordered a fairly unhealthy pasta, ate bread with you, and then shared dessert. It had been so long since they watched him genuinely enjoy food. “Cheat day,” he said casually as Azriel raised a brow at him. “I'm trying to mix y/n's work out to eat what she wants into my lifestyle once a week.” 

“He seems to like our snack and movie nights,” you glanced up at him, to you just admiring the way he smiled. But to the rest of the table, it was clear the gym crush you two shared was becoming much much more. Azriel slipped Rhys money under the table, conceding that he had won the bet. 

“Y/n told me a lot of research shows a cheat day is actually better for you than 7 hard days,” Cassian took another bite of the melted chocolate fudge brownie. “So we have a cheat day now on Sunday. We call it Sinday.”

“We still do a light walk,” you offered as Rhys looked confused. “But more of a “find some wilderness and explore walk than follow this beaten path one.” That dinner turned into many more. It turned into meeting each other's families. To merging friend groups. 

No activity you two tried topped the gym together. Especially after Cassian built and began running his own. His gym was built to cater to those who'd never felt welcomed. One way windows so the people inside could look out, but no one would see in. A mirror room dedicated to progress selfies to stop people from capturing a stranger in their pictures, a strict no bullying policy. He had made a safe haven for those who were serious about their workouts, and those who were just starting, and you could not have been more proud, especially now that you were teaching yoga and hot yoga classes there.

You two posed in the mirror, sweat dripping down him as he flexed and you kissed his cheek with your leg popped up, waiting for the camera to click breaking the no selfies on the main workout floor rule.

“Gross,” Azriel yelled. “Focus on training you two!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassian shot back. “I'm coming. Enjoy yoga, baby.”

“I will. Snacks tonight?”

“Absolutely,” he answered. “Those little no bake cookie balls would be so good."

"Oh, yeah. We'll pick those up!"

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[padfootagain]

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

[flowerfreya]

Cherry Wish

Deny

Cherry Wish Masterlist

Pairing: Omega!Simon x Alpha!Soap x Beta!Reader

Content: Johnny and Simon are in a established ten year relationship and Reader works at a grocery store, hasnt been in a relationship in three years and can't go to sleep without Nyquil, and they want her but she likes to be alone (not really, in fact it's quite the opposite)

They found you working at the grocery store. Immediately enthralled. Had to have you. Their one collective brain cell couldn’t think anything other than mine.

Simon and Soap have been together for 10 years, never thinking about taking a third, of course they have bouts. One night stands but the longest they had kept one was for a month. It doesn’t usually work out, they don’t discriminate with designation either , Beta, Omega, Alpha it’s really up to them. 

But your scent calmed them , smelled like fresh laundry and lavender and one of those perfect fall days. 

~

You smiled at them when you saw them, just like how you did with any other customer. You’re kind of over today , just wanted to go home and curl up with a good book and maybe some wine and Nyquill. You are checking them out with all their stuff , when you glance up again and see that they are just smiling at you. You give them a brighter smile and a small and awkward , okay. You haven’t seen two Alphas in a relationship for a long time, it’s actually very uncommon but not impossible. Good for them. 

“Hi”, the  one with the mohawk says. 

“Hi” you reply back hoping to be polite but also get the point across that you don’t really want to talk. 

“You smell nice”, the taller one says , which has you giving him a wide eyed stare. God damnit. Of course they are weird. It’s always the cute ones that are fucking wierdos. You know your beta and most of the time betas are with other betas, considering that the only gender that can really make an alpha’s knot comfortable is omegas. It is possible for other genders too , but it’s a lot of stretching , prepping , and messy. 

For a beta, you do have a pretty strong scent, multiple people have told you that, but that is about where the similarities stop with identifying with omegas. 

Mohawks gives the bigger guy an elbow to the gut and shake his head, “What he means is that you are really pretty and maybe you would like to go out with us?”. 

You’re unamused but you know some men can’t take the fucking hint, “I have a boyfriend”, you shrug in a what can you do motion, “sorry” , you tac on just in case. 

“You don’t smell like you have a boyfriend”, tall one chides. 

“What’s it to you?” , you reply back, who the hell does this Alpha thinks he is talking to you like that. I mean he’s right you don’t have a boyfriend, haven’t had one in three years, you wouldn’t smell like someone else even if you wanted to. 

“Woah, woah,woah, let's calm down everyone, no harm done, `M sorry hen didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” , you can smell him pushing off a calming scent. 

“He started it”, you mumble under your breath. Looking up at the tall Alpha. And when he quickly shifts his eyes down it shocks you. Most alphas would stare you in the eye until you broke but not this one. Maybe he was broken. 

“Stop”, mohawks chastise the tall one , and he bows his head and sort of shrinks into himself, smelling of shame and humiliation. 

Oh. 

Oh

An omega. Interesting, you’ve never seen one so big and tall and so Alpha. It’s interesting, and you want to know more. 

Mohawk turn back towards you, “Sorry about him, I guess he forgot all his training at home” , he laughs at the end , you guess trying to make everything a joke, “Anyway, thank you for all your help, and see you around”, you watch them leave , feeling confused and sad and more lonely than you felt in a long time, maybe you should have gave them you number but maybe not.

Simon is angry at Soap , “You know she doesn’t have a boyfriend”. 

“I know that” , he replies, calm, cool, collected, it makes him mad that he’s not upset about this. 

Simon stumps his feet, having a tantrum, “So why can’t we take her out”, he whines. Soap already put the groceries in the back and is moving to the front of the car but to the passenger side, since he can’t drive because he could just pass out. Randomly. With no warning, so no driving for him. 

“If she lied about having a boyfriend, she obviously didn’t want to go out with us”, Simon knows that, he just doesn’t understand why. It’s making him upset and he knows he’s stinking up the car but he can’t help it. He put his foot on the brake and is just about to push the button when Soap stops him , “You okay to drive?”

“Maybe I need to take a second”, Simon answered, as an Omega, getting rejected is hard and it makes his emotion all over the place but usually the only one that gets conveyed is anger, “She smells so good”, he groans out. 

“I know hen, don’t worry, we’ll figure something out”, Soap answers with authority that only an Alpha with a plan would have. 

[miveras]

𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 | JJK

♡ preview: in which jungkook is a gentleman & he helps you get out of a situation.

♡ pairing: jungkook x reader

♡ genre: strangers to lovers, idk what this is honestly (i think i rushed it a little towards the end but its okay)

♡ wc: 6.8k

The wind brushes your hair to the side, and you tuck some loose strands behind your ears. You turn around with your eyebrows raised, pulling out your earphones to question whoever just tapped you on the shoulder. You had just stepped out of the store and with the receipt still in your hand, you wondered if you forgot to scan something in the self-checkout line. 

You’re met with an above average looking man near your age. He’s not much taller than you and he looks friendly– not a phrase you often think about a man. He’s wearing a plain, beige hoodie with black pants– a nice outfit, and pretty hair to top off his look. 

Though slightly mesmerized by his looks, you still gather your thoughts as you ask him what he wants from you. With an awkward smile, he glances around the parking lot first, then he leans closer to your ear.

“I think there’s someone following you,” he continues, “he’s been eyeing you for a while.” You hear the hesitation in his words– probably worried that you’d think of him weirdly for bothering you about it. 

Your lips part in shock, worriedness and fear visible on your face. You try your best not to make it obvious when you turn around, looking for who he was talking about. Once you landed on his familiar figure, your face contorts into a sour expression, remembering the previous interaction you had with him. 

He looked about your age, but it seemed like he had the mind of an old man. His eyes met yours as he started smiling widely– all full of himself, probably thinking that you wanted him too.

Great, you were so over everything at this point. All you wanted to do was visit the store and get all the essentials enough for weeks– so that you could avoid creeps. Thankful for his input, you give him a slight smile and explain what had happened before.

“Oh,” you sounded a bit appalled, “uhm.. He’s been staring since I was inside the store. I didn’t know he’d follow me out here too.” You were clearly unsure what to say or do– should you continue home and risk him following you? Or should you report him to someone first?

Earlier, you had already told the creep that your boyfriend was waiting for you outside, obviously not thinking it through. Now, he probably thought this man in front of you was your boyfriend. He noticed how you bit your lip, feeling uncomfortable with the situation.

“I just wanted to let you know in case he actually tries doing something.”

“Yeah, thank you for that. I think I’m still gonna take the bus and head home, though. I’ll just hope he doesn’t find out where I live,” you chuckle, though it sounds fake. 

He nods, understanding that there really isn’t anything else to do. He feels a bit awkward telling you about him and not doing anything else to help. 

As you were about to walk away, he suddenly blurted out, “Do you want me to drive you?” He seems genuinely concerned knowing that you were taking the bus– meaning he could follow you and find out where you live easily. He just didn’t feel right not offering to be your personal driver, especially considering the circumstances.

It may sound strange but within the small time frame where you talked, you seemed oddly comfortable with him. So much that you even consider getting into the car with him, but even you know how absurd that sounds. But you weren’t stupid. Instead, you offer him a polite, ‘Thank you but no thanks,’ hoping he’d understand.

He does but he couldn’t help pestering you about it further. He offers to either drive you or buy an Uber for you instead of taking the bus. You only assure him that you’ll be fine after he keeps insisting, and you get ready to start heading home.

“Wait, can I have your number? I-I mean, for safety reasons of course, but only if you want to. I just want to make sure you get home safe and I’d feel extremely guilty knowing that I practically sent you home while he’s still here,” he rambles on. 

You found it quite amusing how sweet he was to you and you gladly gave him your digits. 

“My name’s Jungkook. What should I save you as?”

He notices the creep frown at you both, but you didn’t react.

“Y/N, and pretty name by the way,” you enjoy the way he blushes at the compliment, licking his lips as an attempt to make the situation less awkward.

You both save each other’s names and numbers. After the exchange, you slip the receipt you were still holding into your bag.

He watched you walk away towards the bus stop, still slightly worried about the situation. But in the end, he knew it wasn’t his business and drove home as well. He knew you just didn’t want to feel burdened over a mere stranger driving you or buying you an Uber. But he hoped that you knew he just wanted to keep you away from the creep.

You [04:56 pm]: hey, i just got home safe. u?

Jungkook [5:14 pm]: not yet, i'm out rn. he didn’t try following u, did he?

You [05:27 pm]: thank god, no. ty for worrying abt me jungkook. :)

You [05:28 pm]: get home safe

As you turn the corner from the library, you’re suddenly met with someone’s chest. You stumble back a bit and hold onto your textbooks tighter. Luckily, you don’t fall. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, you good?” he asks, straightening up. “Oh, Y/N?”

You look up at him, a bit shocked that you guys met again on campus. You didn’t even know he was in college. 

“Jungkook? What are you doing here– do you go here?” You had so many questions right now. It seemed weird how he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit shocked, as if he already knew. 

“Yeah, I do. But listen, Y/N– I have something to talk to you about.” He checked the time on his phone, and looked at you expectantly. It seemed pretty urgent and he didn’t have much time left to meet up with you for a little. 

You nod and decide to walk to the nearest boba shop. You were about to head here anyway for a little sweet treat– usually Matcha Bubble Tea. You order yours as well as Jungkook’s drink. Once you both take a seat, you wait for him to explain what’s gotten into him. This is only the second time meeting with him, and you have many questions. 

He starts, pushing the straw to puncture the lid, “He goes to our school.” He waits for your reaction, but your silence serves as encouragement for him to keep going. “The guy that was following you, I saw him in my frat.” 

“What? You knew him– why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You felt a bit betrayed, and so confused why he didn’t just say that. Did he play the hero just to get your number for his friend or something?

“No, no. I-I just found out recently. I mean, I already knew you went here since I’d seen you around before– in the library and in class.” You didn’t have time to process that he already knew you, and instead you focus on the other guy involved.

“When I saw him yesterday, I was gonna reach out to you when I had the time. It just so happens that you were in the library this morning,” he explains quickly.

Slurping your drink, you seem less worried and confused as he goes on. It was just a misunderstanding. But now you have to worry about the creep when you’re in school too. You roll your eyes and complain about how unlucky you are. 

He looks at you briefly before continuing, “He thinks we’re dating.” You give him a questioning look– somewhat asking why that matters. You already knew this sort of thing may happen, given that you did tell the guy your boyfriend was waiting for you, and out comes Jungkook at the perfect moment. 

You just didn’t know why it would matter. Did he have a girlfriend and he didn’t want her to misunderstand?

“What’s the problem? Did you want to clear things up with him?”

Honestly, you were more shocked that Jungkook wanted to tell him that you guys weren’t dating than him actually going to your school. In fact, you stopped caring as soon as his eyes started glowing from the sun rays coming from the window. 

If he had a girlfriend, you were so damn sorry for the way you are ogling him right now. You look away– flushed cheeks and everything, contemplating how pretty he looked underneath the light.

“Well.. he kind of told everybody. So I wanted to let you know before you hear from someone else. I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that,” he seemed rather sweet about it.

Aww, he wanted to get your approval first. You grin widely at him, so utterly infatuated with the thought of him caring for you– you’ve never taken a liking to someone so quick before. It’s not a crush, you convince yourself, it’s just been too long since someone took care of you. 

You immediately brush off your thoughts when you notice him staring at you with an awkward smile. You take another sip of your drink, almost forgetting that it was in front of you.

“Honestly, I don’t have a problem with it,” you remark, sending him a playful wink. You weren’t sure where you got this newfound confidence but you blamed it on Jungkook. He was too cute for you not to tease him.

You both exchanged classes, majors, and talked about your school lives– especially how crazy it was that you both hadn’t talked before despite having similar interests.

After a bit, he had to go since he’d made plans to go out with his friends. You could tell he was already late by the way he rushed out– almost forgetting his bag in the process. 

You stay behind, thinking about how much you wanted to learn more about him– his habits, hobbies, everything. You were excited to get to know him– a feeling you hadn’t felt in a while.

You see her the next morning in your Chemistry class.

“What the fuck, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell us you were dating someone?” she shouts angrily, mostly from betrayal. She practically seethes smoke out of her ears, rushing close to you for answers. Your friend rages, “How come you didn’t come to me first?”

She speaks for both her and Jimin, your two best friends since high school. You understood their reaction since it was pretty abrupt and they never even heard you talk about Jungkook before. There was no doubt that the two of them felt ignored and hurt– this was the first time you hadn’t told them anything.

In fact, you knew that Jimin was probably blaming himself for not making you feel comfortable enough to tell him. Instead of being irate with you like Lea clearly was, he felt it within– blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault. 

You forgot about how they both would react to the rumors, and you forgot to settle them as quickly as possible. You regret your decision now that you’re faced with Lea turning her back towards you, huffing and puffing everytime she remembers you’re right next to her.

“Lea,” you whine, tapping on her shoulder, “they’re not true– the rumors aren’t.” 

She finally turns to you with a confused look on her face, trying to scan your’s to make sure you were telling the truth. When she finally figures it out, she asks for a detailed explanation on the situation.

“A guy spread a rumor about Jungkook and I but trust me when I say there’s nothing between us,” you weren’t completely telling the truth. You knew there was something but you refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t seem interested in you anyway. “We’re just friends.”

“Promise?” she extends her pinky out towards you hesitantly, wondering if you’d fess up or keep going. She wasn’t against you and Jungkook being together, but she didn’t want a relationship to get between you both. Lea would’ve been fine if you just told her about you and him, but the thought of you keeping it a secret from them sent her into a trance.

“Promise,” you interlock yours with hers tightly. 

She immediately beams at the contact, knowing that a pinky promise was sacred between the three of you. Nobody ever breaks a pinky promise without a good reason.

In a moment, Jungkook walks through the door and takes a seat beside you, glancing at your friend to familiarize himself with her. You make eye contact with her while she raises her eyebrows at you– questioning your motives with Jungkook despite the promise. He acknowledges your presence but he continues to do what he always does in class. 

You look over to him and he looks just as cute as ever– his hair messily plastered on his face, making you want to lean over and part his hair through the middle. He looks down at his computer, typing whatever the professor just said before looking up at the board again. 

He glances at you, feeling your stare, and he immediately starts blushing when he notices that you’ve been looking at him the whole time. 

You don’t notice Lea squinting her eyes at you both– trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Jungkook, is that your girlfriend?” he points at you accusingly. You assume that it’s one of Jungkook’s friends from his frat, one where everyone seemed to believe that you and Jungkook were dating. He wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you– happy that Jungkook found someone he liked.

“Uh, actually-” his voice trails off. Just as Jungkook was about to deny it, he caught a look at the doorway where the creep just so happened to stand.

“Yes, she is.” He makes eye contact with you, trying to send you a clue on why he said that. You catch the hint when you follow his gaze, immediately smiling at him to let him know that you understood.

Lea immediately turns her head, expecting a response from you.

You really had no problem people thinking you and Jungkook were in a relationship. In fact, you enjoyed it quite a bit– his flushed look and blushing cheeks whenever someone mentions him having a girlfriend. 

“Ohh, I thought so. You guys look good together– I was wondering when Jungkookie here would finally make a move. He’s been crushing on you for like the longest time-”

“Hyung! Stop it,” he interrupts. Embarrassed, he whispers something to his friend, playfully shoving him in the shoulder for exposing him. You hear him mutter, “I’ll talk to you later,” probably to tell him that we’re not actually dating. You make nothing of their interaction and instead, you just continue annotating and highlighting bullet points on your computer.

Once he leaves to go to his class, Lea whispers in your ear.

“So, your promise? Are you guys dating or not..” she seems genuinely confused. She trusted you and she knew that you weren’t lying, but part of her doubted you after Jungkook’s confession. 

Jungkook’s friend and the creep had already left to their designated classes, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. The doorway was pretty much empty, so you felt like you could tell Lea everything now.

“We’re not,” you continue, “He’s just helping me stay away from someone,” you turn back to gesture at Jungkook. “There’s a guy from his frat bothering me and he’s making sure that I feel safe.” 

Lea’s face turns to worry, asking you about the guy. She was concerned that he’d try doing something with you, and all her doubt went away as soon as you revealed that. She even thanked Jungkook for making you feel comfortable, apologizing to him for the death glares she kept sending his way. 

You catch her up on everything that happened, from the grocery store to the conversation you had with Jungkook. You told her that there was practically nothing between you and him, except for this uncomfortable situation. You both were fine with it for now, and it was only temporary– until he leaves you alone.

Jungkook [04:58 pm]: hi, are u busy tn?

You [05:07 pm]: no, why?

You were surprised to see his text since he wasn’t one to text first, especially without a reason to– leaving you wondering if it was something important. 

Jungkook [05:10 pm]: i wanted to ask if u wanted to go to a party w me

Jungkook [05:10 pm]: my friends kept asking why u weren’t coming & i panicked so i said u were

You [05:14 pm]: oh

Jungkook [5:15 pm]: i’m so sorry, u don’t have to come if u don’t want to

You [5:18 pm]:  i do :)

You can practically picture his smile behind the screen. You had nothing to do and the night would be so much better if you spent it with him. 

You [5:19 pm]:  pick me up @7pm?

Jungkook [5:21 pm]: sure, i’ll be there

He saves your address on his phone, doing it early so that nothing goes wrong when he comes to pick you up.

“Y/N, I’ll get you water” he offers, already walking somewhere. He took one good look at you and he already knew you had too much to drink. You were stumbling all over the place, clutching onto the hem of his hoodie as he led you to the kitchen.

“Careful,” he whispers, grabbing your arms gently to prevent you from falling. He fawns at your clumsiness, wishing that he saw this side of you more often. 

He immediately grabs the cup you’re holding, nearly empty, to stop you from drinking more. Letting you go for a bit, he walks away to the sink, pouring your drink, and heading to the fridge to get you water.

He hands you a bottle of water, then sits you on the counter– there were no nearby seats available and you looked like you were about to fall any second. You look so pretty right now, he thinks, looking down at you. Even on the counter, he’s still taller than you.

You feel delirious, eyes closing as you find yourself getting dizzy. You don’t even feel like yourself at this point– you were tired and you wanted to go home. You lean on Jungkook in front of you for support– not minding that you’re practically clutching onto him with your legs around his waist.

You were definitely not thinking about how silky his hair was and how much you wanted to run your hands through them. Or how drawn you are to his lips and literally everything about him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him. He was one hell of a man, and you couldn’t resist him standing in front of you.

His eyes seem connected to yours– both of you never blinking. He scans you from top to bottom, looking away once he realizes you staring at him back. He thought you’d find him weird or something like that.

You lay your hand on top of his on the counter– interlacing your fingers with one another. 

“Y/N..” he whispers.

His breath hitches as he notices you leaning closer. He shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t think like this– you’re drunk. But you look so beautiful right now, he was so entranced by your features he just had to give in.

“Wait, w-we shouldn’t. Not when you’re drunk,” he stutters. It doesn’t feel right– he feels as if he’s taking advantage of you in this state. He wanted you bad, but he couldn’t. 

Jungkook doesn’t know if you both are going too fast with this, especially since you just met recently. But he also doesn’t know how to stop the uncontrollable urge to kiss you– and he doesn’t care much anyway.

His nose brushes against yours– he closes his eyes, expecting to feel your lips against his. 

“What the fuck?” The door slams open and Jimin, your best friend, walks in unannounced. His face contorts to an upset expression, and he just stands by the doorway looking at you both. You assume that Lea already told him there was nothing between you guys– yet he just walked in on you two trying to kiss each other. 

Jungkook immediately steps back from you, his cheeks growing red by the minute. He pretends to be pouring another drink for himself, listening to your conversation with Jimin– which sounds more like a fight.

“You told Lea there was nothing between you guys! You know we’d be supportive if you’d just tell us the truth. Why did you have to lie,” he rambles.

“I didn’t! There’s nothing between us, i-it’s just-”

“Then why was he all up in your face? Why were you guys about to make out, hmm?” He mocks you both. Deep down, Jimin didn’t know why he was so angry– he assumed that you did lie to him but it wasn’t his business in the first place. He wasn’t sure why he was acting out, but just the thought of you lying to him and Lea set him off. He didn’t even notice that Jungkook was still in the room. 

“We aren’t dating,” you huff, trying to get Jimin to listen to you for a minute. You know he felt hurt that he wasn’t the first to know, and the fact that you “lied” to him made it worse. 

Once Jimin calms down and you explain everything to him like you did with Lea, he offers you a sympathetic glance. He doesn’t even mention what you and Jungkook were doing right before he walked in. Truthfully, you wouldn’t know what to say if he asked you again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N– for jumping into conclusions. I thought you lied to us,” he saddens. It was understandable for him to react this way, and you made sure to let him know that. 

Now, with all the tension in the air, you stand up awkwardly. It was time to head home now– after the mood was ruined unintentionally. 

“Uhm, J-Jungkook. Should we head home now?” you gesture to the time. You expected to leave much later, but after this, you couldn’t wait to curl up in your bed alone. He smiles at you, immediately grabbing his hoodie to head out. He says goodbye to a few of his fraternity brothers in the process– following right behind you and out the door.

The drive home was mainly silent since it just consisted of calm music and you sleeping peacefully.

He glances at you leaning your head against the window– head falling whenever there’s a bump or turn in the road. You look so peaceful right now– your soft features and delicate skin make him think you’re an angel. 

He finds himself drifting his eyes to you every few minutes, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable and asleep. He wished he’d stored a blanket in his car for you earlier– so that you wouldn’t shiver even when the heater is on.

You turn, waking up because of the loud music blasting in your headphones. Once you turn it off, you drift to sleep for the rest of the drive, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. He doesn’t mind though– at least he has more time to admire you and stare without you noticing him. 

You don’t even react when he unbuckles your seatbelt for you when he pulls over in front of your house. He hated having to wake you up– but it turns out, he didn’t need to. You had just woken up in confusion, almost forgetting that you were at a party an hour ago. You only come to your senses when he opens the door right next to you, willfully grabbing your hand to lead you out.

“Hi,” he whispers when he sees you stirring, “we’re here.” 

Though you feel sober, you still have a dizzying headache pulsing through your veins and you still stumble your way through the path. 

“My keys.. are in my bag,” you say, shuffling through everything in frustration. You nearly drop your lip gloss on the ground– Jungkook catching it for you. You grow impatient as you lean on the door to hold you stable.

Jungkook leans in to do it for you. Immediately, he takes out your keys attached to a cute little cinnamoroll plushie and dangles it in front of you to ask if that was the right one. He turns the keys to unlock your door, pushing his way in for you. He was such a gentleman. 

“Do you need me to help you lay down or anything?” he sweetly asks. It’s times like these when you’re so appreciative of him– of meeting him. 

He’s literally the sweetest person you’ve ever met and you’re so lucky to have even come across him. It kind of makes you mad how easy it is to like him.

You nod, and he immediately closes and locks the door behind you. After telling him where your room was, he basically carried you there. You quickly change into your pajamas in the bathroom and when you come back, you find him staring at a picture of you and your old friends on the wall.

“What? Are you gonna make fun of my haircut?” you accuse playfully. You chuckle at his response, expecting him to comment at your horribly done makeup or your unbrushed hair in the photo.

“I just- well, you look so different here. When was this?” he pointed at you, Lea, and Jimin to your right in the photo.

“Three years ago.” You reminisce the memory of you and your friends having fun at the arcade, then taking pictures in the photo booth afterwards. You still cherish and hold that memory in your heart, one of the funnest days in your life. 

That was when you three were just getting close, and now you were closer than ever. 

Because you’re still drunk– your eyes start tearing up just a little, thinking about how much you love your friends. You become most emotional when you’re drunk, contemplating life and its pros and cons. 

He stares at you, reveling in your emotional state– he never gets to see you like this, all vulnerable. But now Jungkook feels like he invaded your space, and he thinks that it’s time to go. He was about to speak up but you beat him to it.

“Urgh,” you cover your mouth with your hand, fighting the urge to vomit. It must’ve been the alcohol, but right now, you just needed to rush to the bathroom. Jungkook follows right behind you– making sure that you’ll be okay for the night.

“I'm-” urghh, “so sorry Jungkook,” you manage to let out between your pukes. He holds your hair behind you, carefully bunching it up into a ponytail so you wouldn’t have to go to sleep in puke-covered hair. Truthfully, he didn’t care if you were throwing up in front of him– you were equally as attractive as ever.

After a bit, he settles you down on your bed. You’re completely knocked out, snoring to your heart’s content. The next morning, he’s out of sight when you wake up.

“Y/N,” she calls you firmly, “you know you can’t hide anything from us right?” 

She nudges at Jimin who was distracted by something on his phone– and only then does he agree. He didn’t seem interested much and continued to scroll without paying you much mind.

“Hide what?” you genuinely question, not thinking much of it. You had nothing to hide and you already told her everything before. You don’t understand why Lea suspected you– nothing ever happened between you and Jungkook.

“You like Jungkook, don’t you?” she raises her eyebrows at you.

“What? No. What are you even talking about?” you were surprised at her sudden accusation. You were more surprised that she somewhat knew about your feelings– she figured you out so quickly. 

You never had time to sit down and think about what you felt for Jungkook. You didn’t know if you even liked him in the first place, but you knew you were attracted to him. Did it develop into a crush?

“You’re literally blushing, you like him,” she teases. Lea was angry at first that you didn’t tell her what was going on between you and Jungkook. She later figured out that you were just starting to figure out your feelings for each other– and now she was the biggest shipper.

You stay silent, a bit surprised but also because you are thinking about Jungkook.

You liked him. It’s been a while since you liked someone, and Jungkook was a good person. You liked him a lot. It’s crazy that you’re only realizing this now, even after you guys almost kissed. Although, you also weren’t sure what to do with the information– you were absolutely not going to say anything.

Wholeheartedly, you believed that your feelings would fade over time. You kind of had an inkling that Jungkook was interested, even just a little bit, but you didn’t want to act on it first. It was too scary to deal with these newfound feelings.

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you genuinely like anyone for a long time. I think you should go for it,” she says in a soft tone– opposite from how she talked to you when she first found out about you and Jungkook. 

It was your birthday today. You don’t normally celebrate it and if you do, it’d just be with a couple of friends and a cake. You weren’t one to initiate plans though, so now you’re stuck in the library studying. 

You carefully sort your papers in piles to review and those you’ve already read over. You recite the topics over and over– from equilibrium equations to molecular structures. Chemistry was about to be the cause of your death and you know it. It’s insane how many concepts and rules you had to remember.

Sighing, you opt for a small break in order to use the restroom and finish your acai bowl. As soon as you finish the last bite, you leave your stuff in the study room and head out to use the bathroom. 

When you come back, you see someone approaching you hastily, flashing a smile at you. It was a guy– the same guy you saw in the store. The same one you were trying to avoid. You were quick to react, already turning your head to refuse eye contact, hoping that he’d get the hint. But of course he doesn’t.

“Hey! Hey, wait up! I’m talking to you, man, wait-” he runs to you, catching his breath. He grabs your shoulder to turn you around, not even caring about you trying to slip away. You knew he wasn’t dangerous, but it was still weird how persistent he was being, even when you had already rejected him inside the store before you even met Jungkook.

He licks his lips, clearly a bit agitated that he had to chase you down to get you to pay attention. He runs his hand through his greasy hair before placing them both in his pockets. He had this creepy smirk on his face– making you wonder what he has to say next. 

“You’re cute. What’s your number again? And don’t say no this time,” he says jokingly. He presses you to answer him by coming closer to you. He seems oddly bold for someone who’s already been rejected before. You wished that he’d just leave you alone. 

He doesn’t seem to understand what no means and it was painfully obvious. 

“No,” you answer firmly, “I already said no before.” You try your best not to sound scared despite the shakiness behind your voice. He was way too close now– trying to intimidate you with his height. 

You look down, knowing that his facial expression turned serious. He’s angry, you think, and it makes you more nervous than you intend. His eyes narrow at you, wondering if you’re joking or not– his ego is so big he can’t even fathom your rejection. 

As he opens his mouth to say something, you beat him to it by pushing him away harshly. He almost meets the ground out of impact, surprised that you would respond with physical intrications.

Quickly, you gathered all your stuff– which you thankfully already organized before your break and stuffed it into the backpack. Zipping it up, you make sure nothing is left behind. You head out to the opposite exit from where you both met without looking back.

Later, you check your messages after taking a nap. You were surprised to see over four new texts and three missed calls, most from someone you didn’t know.

Unknown [07:14 pm]: You really think you’re all that, huh?

Unknown [07:15 pm]: Bitch

Unknown [07:37 pm]: Answer me

Jungkook [08:02 pm]: hey, you awake?

It didn’t take long for you to know who it was, and you ultimately just chose to block the unknown number. You hoped that he wouldn’t continue to bother you anymore. Instead, you replied to Jungkook and apologized for not responding sooner.

“Yeah, that bitch is in love with me,” he hangs his head back to laugh. He licks his lips, feeling like he’s the man for having an admirer. He dabs up one of his friends, hands sliding against each other’s in the process.

Jungkook didn’t mean to overhear– he was just passing by and happened to eavesdrop in their conversation. He didn’t expect to hear them talking about someone he knew, especially about someone he cared about. 

When he heard your name, he immediately started listening closer. He knows it’s not good news if the person that was being creepy to you was talking about you.

“Man, I didn’t know Y/N was such a slut,” he hits his other friend in the arm jokingly. He grins stupidly and shakes his head, imagining you flirting with lots of guys. His friend told him that you were in love with him, evidently by the way you apparently clutched onto him during the party. He rambled on about how clingy you were and how much you liked him– confessing to him every time you saw him. It was clear that those were all lies, but his friends believed him anyway.

Jungkook was beyond angry. It was ridiculous how they made up rumors about you– and the guy’s friends believed it wholeheartedly too without even questioning it. He thinks about how they are treating you, speaking so loud and not even caring who hears about it.

He walks to his locker to have a reason to stay there for longer. He justifies it as wanting to know what they say about you and that he wouldn’t say anything about it. As his fists close in frustration, he thinks about his promise to himself to walk away and ignore them. But he couldn’t. After he heard them talking about how easy you were, he couldn’t help it.

His right fist hits the guy right in the jaw, knocking him out in just one blow. His friend only stares in shock, not having the guts to fight back for his friend.

“What the fuck?” the guy on the ground cracks his neck. He immediately stands back up, having the intention to return the favor to Jungkook. His friend holds him back by the arms, not letting him go.

As the situation dissipates, Jungkook chooses to just walk away. He doesn’t want to cause more problems, and he definitely doesn’t want you to know about this. Knowing you, you’d scold him and wouldn’t let him get away with it. He just knows that he won’t tell you what they said– and he won’t let you be all sad over it if you find out.

Ignoring the whimpers and yells behind him, along with the stares he was getting across the hall, he scurries to his next class– not caring about his reddened knuckles. He doesn’t even care about what he did because he did not regret it. You were his biggest concern right now.

You were confused and restless after hearing your friend, Lea, tell you about Jungkook’s incident with a boy from school. You only found out about it later that afternoon, and you didn’t even know what the fight was about. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was about you– especially since that’s the only thing you could link the creeper with. 

But, why would he start a fight for you in the first place? What happened that made him feel the need to do something? You were confused and you needed answers.

You bite your lip in nervousness of Jungkook possibly getting into a fight because of you. You felt guilty about it– especially since the rumors were practically everywhere. 

After a while of slouching around your couch with a blanket over you, you decided to do something about it. You put on a black hoodie and texted him to meet up.

You waited at the nearest playground where you sat and swung yourself back and forth, keeping your eyes locked on the mural in front. You shift your eyes from the painted soccer ball to the figures in the painting. You think the little kid in the painting kind of resembled Jungkook– with his coconut hairstyle and all. 

“Hey,” he taps you on the shoulder, making you flashback to when you guys first met. You were a bit startled, almost forgetting about you calling him. He looks around awkwardly before sitting down on the swing next to you. 

“Hi,” you weren’t sure how to start. You were the one to call him, yet you waited for him to talk first. You wonder if you were crossing a line– it isn’t his responsibility to tell you anything. Were you too nosy? You were suddenly doubting yourself and even considered just telling him nevermind and going home.

“Y/N, is this about what happened earlier today?” he glanced at you expectantly, knowing immediately what you called him for. 

Your mouth slightly gapes, shocked that he’s already figured you out. You nod in response, looking down to the floor where your feet scrape the ground.

“I mean, what happened? I-I was just curious.”

“Well, you called me like it was an emergency,” he had a smug grin on his face, “Were you worried about me hmm?”

You scoffed, denying him as soon as he said that. You shake your head and narrow your eyes at him, turning around when you feel yourself smiling. He laughs at your cute reaction and reaches in to brush your hair away from your face. You blush even more when you feel his fingertips tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

Suddenly, he seems more nervous, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

He clears his throat, “I-I like you, Y/N.” He licks his lips, waiting for your reaction.

For the second time today, you were shocked. First of all, you were definitely not expecting him to blurt it out just like that. You seriously contemplated leaving right then and there out of pure surprise, but you knew you couldn’t leave him hanging like that. You would regret it if you didn’t have time to share your feelings for him like he has for you.

You responded by grabbing his face and kissing him on the lips. It took a bit for him to finally comprehend that you were actually kissing him, but it was obvious he enjoyed it.

“I like you too, Jungkook,” you giggle, happy that he reciprocated your feelings. He leaned in for another kiss, and this time, he was ready for it. You could see the slight blush on his cheeks and ears, and you knew there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling. He was too cute.

When you stopped smothering each other with kisses, you just stared in each other’s eyes for a while before heading home together.

© miveras (if you reach this part, tysm for supporting my work!)

[cosyvelvetorchid]

how about possesive!buck getting annoyed with people flirting with his man right in front of him?

Thanks for the prompt!

You can send prompts to my ask for me to wrote a little something. Bucktommy, saltommy or Tommy.

Thanks 🩶

******

Tommy held Bucks hand and led him through the bar. It was typically busy for a Friday night, although not too overcrowded. After getting their drinks from the bar they stood at a tall table at the back of the room waiting for Karen and Hen to arrive.

A tall dark haired man in his mid twenties knocked into Tommy accidentally, almost spilling his drink.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed

"Don't worry about it." Tommy told him.

"You're gorgeous." He slurred. "Let me buy you a drink."

Buck felt a twinge in his stomach. It couldn't be jealousy because he had never felt that way when his previous girlfriends were hit on. In fact he actually felt kind of a little superior because he knew they'd be going home with him.

"Uh, thanks, man. But I'm taken." He placed a hand on top of Bucks.

"I don't mind. He's cute too." The drunken man winked at Buck, who then choked on his drink.

"We're good, thanks. But you have a good night." Tommy told him. He shrugged and stumbled away.

"That was.. brazen." Buck declared.

"He's right though - you are cute." Tommy kissed his cheek and his blushed.

Not 10 minutes later another man, this one shorter and barely even 21, with long tendrils of chest hair peeking out over the collar of his shirt, walked over and leaned on the table in front of Tommy.

"God those arms! I bet you can bench press me." He giggled. Buck shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah he's pretty strong." Buck answered stepping closer to Tommy. He forced a smile at the man but it was clearly strained.

"What's you're name?" He asked Tommy completely ignoring Buck.

"Tommy. This is my boyfriend Evan." 4 months and Buck still got butterflies when Tommy called him that.

"Boyfriend?" The man questioned.

"Yes." Buck responded more firmly than he had intended. The man simply scoffed and walked away. Within the next 20 minutes 2 other men and one highly inebriated Bride-to-be tried hitting on Tommy.

Buck was frustrated. Partly at those people but mostly at himself. He was not usually the jealous type. And he understood why they tried it on with him - Tommy was beautiful. The most beautiful man Buck had ever met. Tall, muscular, with a cleft Buck would crawl into if he could. Of course other men - and women - would find him attractive. Objectively he knew that. And he trusted Tommy. He knew Tommy would turn them down. Yet still, Buck felt a sense of possessiveness over him that he'd never felt with any other partner. Tommy was his and he wanted the world to know it.

It was childish and ridiculous, he knew that. Yet that little ball of jealous fire was tumbling around in his stomach.

When the next man walked over to their table Buck lost his cool.

"Back off. He's with me." He said through gritted teeth, throwing an arm around Tommys shoulder to puctuate his point. The man's face turned to confusion.

"Good for you?" He said reaching out to collect their empty glasses. Embarrassment hit Buck like a punch in the face.

"Are you okay, Evan?" Tommy asked softly.

"Im fine." He responded a little too quickly.

"Evan." Tommy said, in that vocal truth serum of a tone that Buck found impossible to resist.

"I just.. I get why people hit on you, I mean hello!" His hands gestured up and down Tommy's body. Tommy huffed a laugh. "But.. I don't know, I just feel.. you're mine. And-and.. I don't want to share you. And I know that sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous because I know that you would politely turn them down, and I know that you wouldn't do anything to-"

Buck whimpered as Tommy's lips crashed into his. He expected a quick chaste kiss considering they were in public. Instead Tommy's mouth opened wider and his tongue explored Bucks mouth chasing his tongue. A hand slid down Bucks back, grabbing his ass pulling him into Tommy's body. Bucks hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, moved to the back of Tommy's neck, gripping it hard. Tommy released Buck from his lips, leaving him breathless with a dazed look.

"It's hot as fuck seeing you all jealous." He said in a low voice.

"Im-im not jealous." Buck told him. It was an obvious lie and he knew Tommy knew that. It was game he knew Tommy liked to play.

"You're not?" Tommy moved closer again. He wasn't that much bigger than him yet Buck felt like he was crowded all at once. His hand slowly trailed up Bucks thigh. Buck swallowed.

"N-no."

"You sure about that?" Tommy questioned as he hand grazed the hard on that was making itself known in Bucks jeans. Buck breath caught in his throat. "Good boys tell the truth." He whispered in Bucks ear.

"Fuck. Ye-yes. I.. I was jealous." He admitted; his voice strained.

"Good boy. Now let's get out of here."