#The audacity people have these days is wild
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Stfu bigot idiot
(context: on a community this foul weirdo kept sending lesbian hate and i said something like no they're not going to hell for loving whoever they want and this weirdo sent me hate and i could've ignored it but let's embarrass and humiliate him hell yeah)
your ass does NOT know what bigot means be so real with me right now.
By dictionary definition, a bigot is a person "a person who is obstinately or unreasonably attached to a belief, opinion, or faction, especially one who is prejudiced against or antagonistic towards a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular group" and you know i really really hate to say it but LOOK IN THE MIRROR YOU ASSHOLE, SURPRISE?? THAT'S YOU AND ALSO LOOK AFTER YOUR RECEDING HAIRLINE AFTER YOU SPEND ALL YOUR TIME WORRYING ABOUT WHO PEOPLE CHOOSE TO LOVE OH AND MAYBE TAKE A SHOWER WHILE YOU'RE AT IT
oh my goodness, joining a community for clearly queer people and then telling them to go to hell and then getting so worked up after a teenage girl tells you that loving the same gender isn't a sin gets you so so so worked up, maybe, you shouldnt be on the Internet
It's 2025, and people are tired of this shit, literally let people live, the time you spent joining that community sending hate, searching up my account, thinking of a big word to make you look smart, you could've spent that time learning something, like leaving people the fuck alone
take YOUR miserable bigoted fanatic ass off my blog and go back to sucking daddy elon's dick on Twitter
#The audacity people have these days is wild#Imagine spending the time to spend me hate for saying love is love 😭#Homophobia in 2025 is insane and on Tumblr too#THE GAYEST SITE OF THEM ALL?#Go suck daddy elon's dick or something#This is actually insane and people need to keep their thoughts to themselves
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (maknae line)
⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a lot more angst and suggestive themes!!
⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: toxic relationship dynamics (not all of them)
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: hyung line here!! hope you enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs! <3
𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧
Another jealous one. Honestly, in his case, you’re both jealous and it’s justified.
You guys go back and forth a lot. One minute you want him, the next you don’t and that really messes with Jisung’s head on a daily basis.
The line between friendship and something more is blurred here since you’ve done numerous things that have crossed it multiple times but unfortunately, neither of you knows how to handle that.
You: did you get home safe?
As expected, his reply came only a minute later since he was always glued to his phone.
Ji <3: yeah bin dropped me off
You: that’s good
You: did you have fun at the party? with that girl that was all over you?
You couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you hit send, suddenly overtaken by this indescribable feeling of anxiety. You could picture the reaction that simple question would get out of Jisung, the furrow of his eyebrows and the displeasure on his face clear as day in your mind.
Ji <3: y/n what the fuck
The three dots that indicated he was typing kept appearing and disappearing, almost like he couldn’t decide on a response, as taken aback as you thought he’d be. That went on for a few moments more before stopping altogether and next thing you knew, your phone lit up with an upcoming call. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for another argument before sliding your finger on the screen to answer.
“What nonsense is your pretty little mouth sprouting right now, Y/n?” Came his slightly groggy voice, visibly exhausted after the long night he had had partying. No ‘hello’, no ‘baby’, even if he seemed calmer than you expected, Jisung was obviously aggravated by your behavior.
Moving the phone from one ear to the other, you tried to ease some of your anxiety by sitting down on the bed. “Nonsense? Jisung, you do know I received pictures of you and this random girl from three of my friends, right?”
Jisung let out a strained laugh, one that conveyed all of his anger. “What is this now? Did you stoop so low as to put your friends to spy on me when you’re not here?”
“Are you hearing yourself?” your voice got louder as all of your muscles grew tense. “I just asked you a fucking question, nobody was spying on you!”
You heard him exhale loudly on the other end, presumably rolling his eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to speak to people of the opposite gender now?”
A sigh escaped you at that, rolling your shoulders before letting yourself fall back against the many pillows, frowning.
“You know that’s not what I asked, Ji – “
“Oh, I know.” He cut you off, the argument giving him more energy. “You were just wondering if we fucked.”
With wide eyes, you sat up trying to defend yourself but his velvety voice interrupted once again.
“Don’t worry, you’re the only one I fuck at parties. The only one I fuck, in general.” Even if these words were meant to reassure you, the tone of his voice did anything but that. “Any more questions or jealousy fueled craziness?”
You scoffed, your nerves slowly morphing into anger that threatened to bubble to the surface any second. The audacity to call you crazy and be bothered by your behavior when he usually lost his goddamn mind if a guy as much as breathed in your direction, was wild. This thing you and Jisung had wasn’t healthy, you could see it, and everyone in a 100-mile radius could see it. But the feelings that blossomed along the way felt too real, and intense for either of you to just call it quits, no matter how toxic your current dynamic was. Most of the time, you brought out the worst in each other, but you also felt like your best couldn’t even exist without him.
With another sigh, the man tried to redeem himself once he realized he might’ve taken it a bit too far, voice barely above a whisper as he softened up.
“I’ve been chasing after you to make you my girlfriend for months now, baby. Do you really believe I’d do something like that to us?”
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧
No matter your relationship status, Felix treats you like you’re the most precious person in the world. No surprises here.
He’s so gentle and loving, the sight of you never fails to put a smile on his face. Wants to be near you all the time, always invading your personal space and clinging to you any chance he gets.
Hugs, lingering touches and not so innocent kisses. There’s a very strong longing for the other here.
Laughter could be heard as you and Felix were playfighting on the couch, skilled fingers tickling every spot you knew would make the other lose their mind. One of the perks of being such good friends was having easy access to each other’s weaknesses, making the tickle war fair on both fronts. Though you prided yourself on having many aces under your sleeve, Felix countered them easily each and every time.
“Just – “ Your sentence was cut off by another fit of laughter as Felix continued his attack, not even giving you the chance to speak. “Admit you cheated! You’re a cheater Lee Felix! I would have won that race fair and square if you wouldn’t have bombed me right at the finish line.”
Felix only laughed in response, not admitting anything as he continued to tickle your sides. His innocent mask always fooled you into forgetting that to his core, he was a notorious cheater who loved tricking others.
“Or maybe you’re just a sore loser.” He grinned, gently nudging your side to have you fall on the couch. Briefly stopping his tickle assault, he then moved to hover over you, smile turning into a smug, a little too arrogant, smirk.
The air shifted as he got even closer, one hand moving upwards your body until it reached your face. Your eyes met and his smirk dropped, not once looking away while he stopped at your jaw, his thumb sticking out to softly run over your lower lip. The gesture was so intimate and familiar as he never missed an opportunity to be affectionate, yet it still caused your heart to flutter and breath hitch in your throat momentarily. He always looked at you with eyes full of love and adoration and each time, you were willing to give him everything he desired and more.
Felix hummed, his already deep voice dropping even lower while he continued to maintain eye contact. “Who knew you took mario kart so seriously?”
You couldn’t take it anymore. His touch burned in the most pleasant way, leaving behind blooming flowers as strange as that sounded. That’s how being with Felix felt too. You felt love, passion, lust, comfort, all wrapped up in the pretty package that was him. Being with Felix felt like home.
That’s why, you took advantage of him getting lost in what he was doing to you before suddenly setting your hands on his shoulders in hopes of overpowering him, pushing his body back so you could be the one on top. With each knee on either side, you straddled him before leaning down and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. If Felix was surprised by the turn of events, he didn’t show it, hands finding your hips and resting there while gently caressing the skin.
It felt like fireworks going off on New Year’s when you kissed him, lips fitting together like they were made for each other. The plushness of his lips along with the taste of his tongue, of him – they all drove you insane.
Lee Felix might have been a filthy cheater when it came to any type of game, willing to deceive everyone just to win. But when it came to your relationship – whatever that was – you knew he would never be anything other than truthful.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧
He’s the sweetest when with you. No joke, the others usually complain about how you get special treatment from him because Seugmin is never that nice to them.
Has moments when he gets so gentle and lovey-dovey but as soon as someone points it out, he playfully pushes you away with a bashful smile, cheeks reddening by the second.
Can be a bit inconsiderate of your feelings sometimes.
The room was silent save for the tv that was quietly running in the background, the action movie long forgotten by Seungmin as you captivated all of his attention. His eyes were glued to your sleeping form in his lap, the pillow under your head along with the blanket on top ensuring you were most comfortable. One of his hands would sometimes reach out to fix the blanket while the other would soothe you back to sleep by caressing your head, leaning down to whisper sweet nothings in your ear if some of the guys got too loud. It was very peaceful for him, a serenity he didn’t usually get in his everyday life that only came along with you.
You were special to him, his feelings for you obvious to everyone around except for the person that mattered most. Because of that, he was usually reluctant to act on them but that was starting to get harder and harder each day, especially when you did things like right now. You were the picture of peace, away in dreamland while Seungmin was the complete opposite, a storm picking up inside of his mind.
He was confused. His gaze was filled with nothing but fondness as he once again looked down at you, happiness bubbling up inside of him and threatening to overflow to the surface any second. Yet as he kept staring, he could feel little knives puncturing his poor heart at the reminder that you were nothing more than friends, what you had purely platonic.
“Guys, look at Seungmin being a lovesick puppy.”
Jeongin’s voice came from his right and he immediately turned to the youngest with a glare, one that didn’t seem to do anything as his smile only grew in response. Shaking his head, Seungmin rolled his eyes before his gaze fell back to you, his hand now stroking your soft hair.
“Shh, Innie, don’t disturb our couple.” Hyunjin chimed in with a smirk of his own, quick reflexes helping him dodge the pillow Seungmin threw right at his face. Chan only chuckled under his breath from his place on the other sofa while Minho didn’t even glance up from his phone, absorbed in what was presumably an argument with his partner.
“Will you guys be quiet? Y/n’s sleeping.” His voice remained low yet the hostility in it was clear as day as he turned to look at his two troublemaker friends, glaring. He wasn’t in the mood for any teasing it seemed. “And stop calling us a couple. We aren’t together and we’ll never be so knock it off and let me enjoy the movie.”
The men stopped after that, not wanting to push their luck as they knew how scary Seungmin got when angry. But unknowing to them, you heard the whole thing, your heart falling all the way down to your stomach at his painful, careless words.
What was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon, ended up with you getting your heart broken by none other than Kim Seungmin himself, the guy you’ve been in love with since what felt like two lifetimes ago.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧
Did someone say childhood friends to lovers? Because I did.
You’re very comfortable around each other, knowing all of the other’s secrets and defining life events so when your relationship started to shift, you were none the wiser.
Has always loved you in some way, just isn’t aware of the fact that he’s actually in love with you.
“And you won’t believe what she said next!”
He chuckled, fox eyes following your every move as you continued to pace around in his room. “What did she say?”
Turning to him, you made a face before starting to mock one of your girlfriends. “Well Y/n, maybe if you got a boyfriend, you would understand why we can’t always bend over backwards for you!”
Jeongin gasped, hands moving up to his mouth pretending to be flabbergasted by what you just said, completely entertained by your antics. Being best friends for as long as you two have been, there was nothing unusual with you coming over to catch him up on the latest drama that was happening in your friend group. It was more or less a weekly tradition at this point.
“Can you believe that? She was blaming me for the fact that she was a shitty friend!”
He nodded, agreeing with your every word. “And not only that, but she was also boyfriend shaming you!”
“Exactly!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Do you see the type of people I have to deal with now that you’re not here?”
Those last words made Jeongin’s shoulders fall as it all dawned on him; you were right – he was barely here nowadays, his busy schedule keeping him away from you and all he’s known for the majority of his life. He missed it, going out and goofing around with you and his school friends, having no real responsibilities other than doing some random homework and picking the place you’d hang out at after classes.
He missed you. So much that it physically hurts sometimes.
“Jeongin?”
At the sound of your sweet voice calling his name, he snapped out of it, eyes focusing on your form in front of him once again. Without a word, he then beckoned you closer with a finger and once you were in reach, he pulled you into his arms, a laugh escaping him as you gasped in surprise. Jeongin didn’t usually initiate physical contact so being pulled into an embrace like that, so out of the blue was really confusing for you. Nevertheless, your arms went around his neck while you melted into his hold, his own going around your waist innocently as you were now standing in between his legs.
“How about we make this girl eat her words, hm?” he smiled, looking up at you from his seat on the bed, chin resting just above your stomach.
Raising an eyebrow, your hands moved to comb through his dark locks. “How?”
It seemed that’s what he was waiting for as his smile turned into a smirk, eyes full of mischief at the plan he was silently cooking up.
“Let me be your boyfriend, your trophy man if you will.” Seeing the way your eyes widened and mouth dropped open, he squeezed your sides, shushing you. “I’m not done. I can pretend to be your boyfriend when she’s around, showering you with affection until she turns green with envy and realizes what a shitty friend she’s been. Or, until you drop her.”
Your mouth closed and he could see you contemplate his words, your lips pursed into a small pout. You looked kind of adorable from up close, not that he’d ever admit it.
With a nod, you agreed, your smile returning and lighting up your face for the first time in the hour you’ve been at his house.
“Alright, let’s do this!”
And then, next thing you knew, Jeongin stood up and suddenly, his lips were on yours.
tagging: @captainchrisstan
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#skz x you#stray kids x you#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#skz fanfic#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#kim seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin x reader
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Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,
After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!
But things arent how he left them…
Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media
Radio has turned to Video
And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do
Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.
Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?
You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.
Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do
But things from the good old days.
Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.
Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.
Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]
You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.
You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.
“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.
“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”
Vox was getting annoyed.
Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.
“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”
He was trying to butter you up.
Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.
Alastor loved to hear you sing.
“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.
You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.
“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.
You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.
To Alastor’s radio tower.
You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.
Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.
You turned on the radio and did a count set
“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.
As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.
“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”
You listened in
“I think it could be good to switch it up!”
“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”
“Y/n youre incredible!”
“Video kills the Radio star!”
You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded
“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”
Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor
“A-Alastor?”
His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”
You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.
You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”
Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it
“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”
You blushed.
Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight
“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”
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women=scapegoats
Just my opinion.
TRIGGERING WARNING: SA/ SH
When did the word woman become synonymous with scapegoat? As I see the news each day, I realize this is the world we seem to live in. In light of recent events regarding the attempt to destroy the career and livelihood of a fellow actress and woman , I have felt compelled to write this, as I have unfortunately been subject to the same toxic masculinity throughout my life. In my recent career, I’ve brought forward concerns about a male colleague and was deemed “hysterical.” I was told my fears were figments of my imagination. Now, as I’m seeing this pattern pop up more, I realize this is the norm.
I, like a lot of women, had hope in change —especially in the latter part of 2017 when many brave women came forward during the #MeToo movement. There seemed to be an uprising, a new wave of recognition for those who had been abused, degraded, slandered, silenced and it was loud. But it was the kind of noise I can only liken to a firework. It can wake you up out of a sound sleep, it burns so bright and shocks the shit out of you but then, it burns out — just like that. And when the smoke in the sky clears and the ashes and debris are swept away from the sidewalk, behind closed doors —to them— we are still just noisy women.
So we all go about our business until the next wave of injustice comes.
With the #MeToo movement, it felt different. People were annoyed (by people, I mean men and anyone who enables abusers). Annoyed that they might have to change their own dehumanizing behavior. I remember the shift from “yasss!!! Go women!!!! We are woke af!!!! We got your back!!!!” To “god, didn’t these bitches have their moment a few years ago? Get over it”. As if centuries of women being underpaid, undervalued, under-appreciated, raped, harassed, terrified and used for the benefits of dick-wielding heroes would be erased because you commented on your second cousins #MeToo instagram saying “stay strong”.
It was a pat on the head, a consolation prize accompanied by an eye roll as if we were just all constantly complaining that the gas station didn’t sell our preferred brands of tampons.
When a suit was filed against me by a former employer, (the suit was withdrawn), after making a confidential complaint against a coworker for unprofessional behavior, I had the silly and naive impression they would believe me. I am not known as a liar in my field of work, no matter how vocal I may be. Hence, why I’ve been working for 25 years. Instead of being believed and protected, a suit was filed against me for having the audacity to speak up. I was publicly shamed and defamed in the process. A reputation I had cultivated for over 2 decades had now been tainted as I became the crazy, paranoid and to quote directly, “hysterical and wild” woman, who apparently just had it in for men. My previous abuse was also brought up as “unfounded claims”, and I was made to seem like someone who just goes after men, rather than being seen as someone who has been dealing as a professional in this world, since I was a child, standing up for herself. This was after I had taken all of the recommended, reasonable and appropriate measures of reporting confidentially to my union.
The experience left me with a lot of questions, of the professionals in my industry, of the public, and of men.
To the public… I often wonder why are we always so excited to see the takedown of a woman? Why are we always so quick to defend a man after he is accused of bad behavior, but if a woman speaks out… she’s clearly a liar? I’d like to think it’s because we are supremely afraid to believe the truth that these things actually happen. I’d like to believe it’s some form of indoctrinated denial. However, time and time again, I find most people believe the approval of a man is far more significant than the burden of supporting a woman. For men, it is always innocent until proven guilty. For women it is the opposite. “Prove your fear.” “Prove your discomfort.” “Prove your pain.”
This MUST change.
And to men, I first wonder… if you complained about a coworker and you were called a liar… how would you feel? You probably can’t answer this because most likely, statistically, it’s never happened to you. Men are usually believed because so many “bosses” are men.
I will say this to those who have such a difficult time believing that women are truthful: do you know what happens to us if we report anything?
Do you know that most of the time when a woman reports a concern about a man, the burden of proof lies solely on us?
Do you know how it feels to be treated as a second rate citizen solely because we don’t have an appendage we can stick into anything we feel we own the right to?
And yet… you need us. You can’t charge your phone without an outlet right?
And is that all we are? Outlets? Something you can take your anger and vitriol and push that into us and onto us?
It leads us to the impossible double-edged sword we face everyday.
If we don’t speak up, we’re weak and aiding in the problem.
If we do, we are over dramatic, bitchy, bossy, divas.
Do you have a sister? Do you have a daughter? Do you have a mother? I’m sure you do.
And so here we find ourselves again, in a vicious cycle of crucifying another woman for speaking out against a man. Watching as the world splits in two over who is telling the truth, no matter how much evidence is presented. Because how could a woman do anything but lie or exaggerate?
So I ask you this:
How can a man do anything but lie when he is consistently told his deceptions are gospel? Are we forever to hold the burden of being “perfect” to be victims and to be believed?
To change the narrative, we do not need more women to scream. We just need a lot more men to shut up and listen.
-abbie
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steer clear - roommates!abo pt 2
summary: and they were roommates… word count: 6k an: more parts up on my patreon and they are next to be updated.
you can subscribe for $3USD here and get access to 300+ exclusive writings & I update every one to three days !
this is a follow up to this +++ YN will fully blame her pre-heat, looking back at the events of the morning.
She cannot believe that she walked around an angry alpha barely dressed, taunted him, and casually bared her neck.
It was starting to worry her that she didn’t put enough consideration into the idea of how her alpha roommate would affect her heat disorder.
YN was only a week and a half into her month of preheat but she feels like the symptoms were stronger now that his rich, deep scent lingered on every inch of the apartment.
She truly despised this knothead, know it all alpha.
YN also desperately wants to be held tightly in his arms.
She needed a nap.
++
YN decides that she needs a night out with Niall.
She breaks her own cardinal rule of not drinking during preheat because of the way she acts.
YN’s become aggressive in the past, not necessarily physically but just like how she gets during heat, she almost becomes a feral, wild creature like their ancestors instead of the normal, calm, sweet girl she was.
Niall wouldn’t have agreed to go out with her or at least offered her shots if he knew that she was in pre-heat so she purposefully failed to mention that was one of the reasons she had been so stressed out recently.
The bar is fine, it’s not crowded because it’s a work night.
Niall didn’t care if he had work the next morning, he was always down for a good time and swore that he’s not once experienced a hangover.
By the time that Niall has walked YN to the hallway of her apartment, he watches from near the elevator to make sure that she unlocks the door and gets inside safely before he turns to get back in the lift to go home.
YN wasn’t as drunk as she was at the bar but she would still deem that she was over the line of being buzzed as she shut the door a bit too harshly before fumbling to lock it with a bit of a struggle.
It takes her a moment, as she rests her hand up against the wall to unstrap her heels to realize that there are new scents in their apartment.
Not only that but a distinct semi-sweet scent of an omega, who YN doesn’t recognize by scent nor wants it her home, let alone the other betas.
The film of fury starts to develop over her vision, only exaggerated by the tequila still pumping through her veins and altering her state of mind, on top of the hormonal changes as her body shifts to go through her cycle.
When she steps further into the apartment, YN spots a small group of people in the living room with drinks, snacks, and everything swiped from her coffee table.
It was nicely stacked and set aside near the television but all YN could see was that her safe space had been fucked with.
She couldn’t even smell Harry that well with everybody in the mix and that triggered her even more into a sense of insecurity.
Though logically YN wouldn’t call Harry her alpha, her omega has already identified him as hers or at least a potential alpha for her for heat, and the fact that his scent was not currently oozing through every inch of their living space was alarming.
They were playing a somewhat complex looking board game that YN had never seen before, all laughing and joking easily, having a good time.
YN focuses on the omega instantly.
She’s has thick-framed glasses that took up most of her face, tangled curls thrown into a messy bun, and tattoos that covered nearly every inch of visible skin.
Her scent was mediocre at best, at least to YN’s nose, and though this girl had never done anything to her - YN already felt a strong sense of anger and jealously that she even had the audacity to step into her apartment, her safety from the world.
The omega wasn’t even sitting near Harry.
Harry had two betas on either side of him, their shoulders bumping casually from trying to squeeze in around their coffee table but any physical contact with her alpha- with Harry was just completely unacceptable right now
Everyone’s eyes dart up to YN, most of them have friendly smiles on their faces.
YN realizes that Harry had been smiling and it had really been the first time she had seen that from him, he surprisingly enough had dimples.
However, when he looks up from his stack of cards, the smile fades into something stormier, something she was much more used to seeing.
YN vision feels blurry for a moment, blinking harshly, and desperately trying to simmer the rage that was starting to boil over.
When the omega slips her glasses up into her hair, she leans over to hand Harry a card from her deck, and she whispers something low enough YN can’t hear.
If she was in her right mind, she would realize that it had something to do with the game that they were playing but it felt like a threat.
YN’s voice is tight, shaking because she wants to get physical but knows she can’t, knows it’s not right but she’s never gotten this hostile before.
“Get out of my house,” YN hisses and even though it’s directly at everyone, her eyes are glued onto the omega who rightfully looks startled.
Harry stands up, chest puffed and shoulders as broad as possible, and looking a hundred thousand percent like the alpha of her dreams.
“YN,” His voice is firm, not quite at an alpha timbre but not too far off, he sensed the true threat, and realized this could go very bad.
“Get the fuck out of my house!” YN screeched louder, her chest was heaving and she knew her eyes were wide and erratic as they darted around to keep an eye on every person in her house.
“Hey,” Harry’s voice warns, stepping out of the group and closer to her, “I will have everyone leave but you’re not going to be aggressive like this. They’re not doing anything to endanger you.”
YN bares her teeth at him, upset that he’s not protecting her safe space for her.
How could he not see that they’re ruining everything?
“Get them out!” YN waves her hand toward the door sharply, kicking a pair of shoes in their vicinity for good measure.
“Settle down now,” Harry booms louder, finally in his alpha tone, and it’s something that quite literally flips a switch in her mind to obey.
YN blinks at him, suddenly feeling heavy like there were weights in her limbs as she stills snarls but doesn’t emit any noises further towards the guests.
The anger dissipates and is fully replaced with despair.
It’s not something that has ever happened before but then again, this was the first time that she had ever had an alpha in her life.
YN doesn’t melt though, not when Harry wraps his fingers securely around her wrist, and tells his friends, “I’m going to take her back to her bedroom. See yourselves out. I’ll contact you all in the morning to reschedule.”
YN doesn’t want to go to her room until they’re fully out of her house but when she hesitates in the entryway, Harry tugs at her, still gruff and alpha when he snaps, “Let’s go, now.”
She follows, albeit unwillingly and still fucking too buzzed to fully process anything that was going on in these last minutes.
Harry opens her bedroom door, nostrils flaring whether it’s from his disdain for her scent or just agitation - most likely a mixture of most
“Stay here until I say so,” Harry demands, in his typical bossy alpha way as he nudges her into her now open bedroom door.
“It’s my apartment,” YN nearly growled at him, eyes narrowed.
“It is also my apartment as well,” Harry points out, calm and emotionless as ever, “And you acting like a feral, unregulated little pup isn’t going to fly with me.”
YN feels like it’s an insult to her value as an omega.
It makes her want to shrink and become unreasonably small.
She already felt that way compared to him.
When Harry moves to shut her door as he leaves, she can’t help but bite out, “Knothead.”
Harry shakes his head in annoyance but only reminds her once more, “Stay here.”
YN ignores him, after he shuts the door, YN decides it’s time to change out of her form-fitting outfit and into something much more comfortable.
All she can think about though is that the feeling that her apartment, her safe space for her head, has been disturbed, and she’s going to have to fix it or she won’t be able to sleep.
She didn’t get a good enough look to know what’s out of place or not but she can guess things were moved around and touched.
YN changes into a soft pajama shorts and a cropped tee, nearly bouncing on her feet for the confirmation that all of the intruders have left her house.
If she wasn’t buzzed and in pre-heat in the presence of the first alpha she’d ever really known, she would have probably joined in the game or conversation.
All bets were off during the lead up to her cycle.
Once the door cracks open, Harry doesn’t peek his head in or anything but simply rumbles, “Everyone is gone.”
He doesn’t say anything else before she can hear him walking the few steps to his bedroom and shutting the door harshly.
YN feels like a live wire is in her veins as she exits her bedroom, eyes trying to go everywhere at once but instantly focus in on the game that’s still laid out on the coffee table.
She doesn’t care in that moment that she might be messing things up as she starts to shuffle all the pieces back into the box with a bit of unnecessary urgency.
But before she even gets half-way done with that, she realizes that someone has moved Beatrice’s box of toys to the wrong corner of the room.
Her little metallic crinkle balls, her fish on a string, all of them were splayed out over the floor, and not nicely tucked away as YN had left them.
Then she realizes that the visitors had been using her throw blankets which means they automatically had to get rewashed first thing tomorrow.
YN threw the three blankets in a pile near the entryway, she didn’t even realize that there were tears streaming down her cheeks instantly.
Harry pads back down the hallway as she is re-entering the living room, that same annoying scowl on his face, and tense body language.
“You don’t have to prove this point to me. I would have cleaned all these things up once you went to sleep,” Harry huffs out as YN moves a chair back to its original place at her dining room table.
YN isn’t proving a point though
She’s trying to fix her safe space that he had so carelessly destroyed.
Harry moves towards the coffee table to clean up the rest of the board game but YN snaps at him first.
“You already disrupted enough! Let me clean this up! Don’t touch anything else!” YN is half yelling, half begging at this point.
“Why are you being so fuckin’ difficult with me? Ever since you walked in the front door,” Harry throws his arms up, “Is it because I had people over without asking? I didn’t know I needed your permission.”
His tone is triggering, his stance, his scent.
YN was starting to think that there has been great reasons now to steer clear of stupid fucking alphas. YN bristles at him because there’s something about the way he’s acting that makes her skin itchy.
He was the alpha, she was the omega.
They’ve established that and he should know that this isn’t normal for any omega without some type of disorder.
YN wonders if Harry has any mate-like instincts or if he truly is unbothered by the way she acts because he doesn’t give an ounce of care about her.
She decides the best thing she can do right now is ignore him completely as she continues to tuck the decorative pillows back in their spots.
Harry is waiting for a response but realizes after a moment of heavy silence that he wasn’t going to be receiving one from her.
“If it was an issue, I am not a fuckin’ mind reader,” Harry continues on, volume loud enough that it pricks at her ears sharply, “If there was a problem with it, you need to be an adult and communicate.”
YN drops the pillow she was just about to place, eyes burning near fire as she snarls at him, loudly and frustrated now.
“I did tell you!” YN raises her voice, vocal cords straining because yelling for her was a rare occurrence that almost never happened, “You should have have some fucking alpha instincts or is there just too much testosterone in you to have common sense?”
Harry growls louder than before, at the insult of his secondary gender, no alpha wanted to be questioned on their abilities.
YN keeps on before he can respond, “I have been in pre-heat for the last week and a half. You knew that! You knew that I was struggling to sleep, feeling restless, and upset. Did you not?”
Harry’s jaw twitches, his throat bobbing as he swallows, his eyes darting guilty to the side for a moment before focusing back on her, “I did.”
“You knew I’m struggling through my pre-heat and you brought a group of people here? Unfamiliar people? An omega in my home?” YN breaks down, the rage leaving her body and tears flooding in instead.
The tension in Harry’s body starts to fade as he realizes what he’s done and he has the decency to look properly remorseful as she cries.
“My safe space doesn’t feel safe anymore,” YN sniffles as she pulls the collar of her shirt to cover her face, her vulnerability as she sobs, “You took away my safe space then yelled at me for being upset about it.”
“YN, I -“ Harry begins, his tone had softened ten-fold and his shoulders were relaxed, chest not as puffed up and intimidating.
YN shakes her head, wiping her eyes with the fabric before letting it drop again, “I need to go to my room. I need to be in my nest unless you’ve invited them to lay in there too?”
It was rhetorical and she didn’t give him a chance to reply either way as she storms passed him, avoiding his shoulder just barely to get to her room.
YN shuts her bedroom door, making sure that he can hear the lock distinctly as a warning, and relieve floods through her when she looks at her bed.
Her nest is perfectly as she left it if Beatrice was curled up to the left corner, and probably had been the whole time the group of people were here.
She had already been in her room when Harry marched her in here but she had been so frazzled that she could only think about getting out there to clean, not a thought to her nest.
Beatrice was the friendliest cat once she warmed up but until then she was anxious and tended to tuck herself somewhere away from noise.
YN’s already dressed for bed and readily crawls into her nest to bunker down under the layers of soft blankets and comfy sweaters.
She hates that it reaches underneath her pillow for Harry’s shirt that still had a decent amount of his rich scent on it to make her feel warm and fuzzy in a different way.
YN’s mind starts to wander, when he brought her back here, did he look at her nest?
Alphas should know that it is highly disrespectful and inappropriate to view an omega’s nest without their expressed consent and permission.
However, Harry was the rudest, most off-putting alpha that has ever walked the face of the earth which leaves her anxious that he did look.
If YN would have known that Harry would see it, she would have spent hours building a much prettier one, more constructed, bigger.
Her pre-heat and heat nests however were more about comfort than ability and appearance.
They were sloppy, hastily put together, and usually a wreck from how much YN tossed and turned in her sleep during these times.
YN surprisingly sleeps well once again because of her nose being tucked into a fabric carrying the most delicious scent she had ever smelled.
But she wakes up earlier than usual, especially because she was off work for the rest of the week because of the issues at their office and it was Tuesday.
She should be sleeping in.
YN doesn’t forget that Harry gets up earlier than her by a long shot and is out the door by the time her alarm goes off but she checks her clock.
She staggers to her door, moving to unlock the knob but when she glances down she notices her door is already unlocked.
YN doesn’t remember getting up at any point but with how much alcohol she had consumed the night before, she wouldn’t be surprised if she had gotten up to pee.
YN is dreading walking into the hallway to be met with the disappointing smell of all the random betas that had been over here.
Worst of all, the omega who’s scent would likely linger, and be more sensitive to her nose because of the insinuated threat of competition.
However, when she steps out, most of the lights are still off and it’s still completely dark outside which makes the dim lamp in the living room give some illumination.
YN doesn’t smell anything but Harry.
Like insanely, all encompassing Harry.
It was the best thing she’s ever woken up to.
When she pads into the main area, she notices that the apartment is a hundred percent back to normal, everything rearranged perfectly.
Not only that but it was even more spotless than before.
Most importantly, Harry must have rescented the whole apartment and marked it as his territory which maybe should make YN mad but it just brings her back to the feelings of being safe.
YN is blinking rapidly, eyes watering from relief as she runs her hand across a neatly folded throw blanket on the back of her couch.
It takes her a minute to realize it hasn’t just been scented but washed completely along with the other blankets that were tucked neatly into their basket by the couch.
“I should have asked before I marked the entire apartment. My…alpha went into a bit of overdrive after our conversation last night,” Harry’s voice interrupts the silence from the kitchen, it was low enough that it didn’t make her jump.
YN turns her head to look at him, he’s dressed in gym gear with a loose fitting black tee that doesn’t do justice to his defined body shape, mid thigh black running shorts, and black tennis shoes with crew socks.
He looked big, intimidating, and every bit of the angry alpha that he has shown in the past to her but he wasn’t posturing, he was leaning against the counter and sipping a protein shake from his shaker bottle.
“I…” YN shakes her head as she looks around, in awe that the alpha actually listened and did something kind for her that maybe he wasn’t the complete knothead she thought he was, “It’s okay. It feels safe again.”
“Even with my scent?” Harry clarifies, wariness in his expression as he watches her, eyes always focused and clear from under his dark lashes.
“I've never had an alpha in my proximity. It makes me feel safer and I like your scent. It really upset me when I could barely smell you when I got home last night,” YN doesn’t know where this honesty is coming from and isn’t sure whether she should regret it or not.
Harry has the same flash of guilt cross his face and that’s when YN realizes just how exhausted he appears with puffiness under his eyes, darker than usual coloring.
“It must have taken you a long time to do all this. You even did laundry and I know it takes ages for those dryers to actually dry anything heavier than a sock,” YN murmurs as she gives another glance around.
Harry rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, his hair was in a high bun, and his jawline was like something of a sculpture.
YN was still struggling to come to terms with the idea that this alpha was her flat mate, Niall never mentioned how impossibly handsome he is or devastatingly all dominant, primal alpha.
Maybe as a beta he truly didn’t notice.
Niall could be quite oblivious.
“I let my emotions get the best of me sometimes. I wasn’t thinking about how new scents in the house would affect your pre-heat,” Harry admits, his voice is still somewhat flat but it seemed genuine enough, “I am a good alpha.”
YN is a bit taken aback by his words.
It was the cadence of the way he spoke them.
Like he was trying to prove it to her.
“You should get some sleep before work,” YN defers the topic and from the twitch of Harry’s jaw - his annoyance too because he wanted validation.
He was being a good alpha but it was a little too late in this scenario.
“I have to get to the gym to train,” Harry shakes his head, swigging down the last of what was in his bottle before moving to wash it out.
“You can’t take a day off?”
“No,” Harry replies, simple and firm, “You should be the one getting back to sleep. You don’t have work today. You should rest, your body has been incredibly stressed out.”
“I’ll probably sleep the whole day now,” YN laughs but it’s the truth, she almost wants to move to the couch after he leaves to be more more enmeshed in his scent.
“The striped knit blanket in the basket, you might want to not use that one,” Harry tells her before he directly focuses on scrubbing his plastic cup.
“Did you not wash it?” Maybe it still smells like omega or beta.
“I did,” Harry blinks at her, frowning like he doesn’t want to answer but is being forced, “I just…it’s drenched in my scent. My alpha was unsettled so probably want to let it air out and lose the scent a bit first.”
“Okay,” YN replies easily because that means that after he leaves it will be the first one that she’s going to wrap herself into like a burrrito.
“Okay?” Harry repeats back, skeptical and sharp, “I don’t understand how all these betas and one omega triggers you so incredibly much while I can just stink up and claim this whole apartment with no issue.”
YN almost physically sees Harry start to put his guard up, hackles up and brows knitting downward to cause the wrinkle above his nose.
“It makes me feel safe, you…um, make me feel that way too,” YN admits, all to honest again, and she wonders why she is opening up to a brick wall.
Harry’s jaw twitches, eyes unreadable as he nods, “Okay.”
YN wants to laugh at his robotic, stiff response to such a major compliment.
She may be taunting a bull but she has to try.
Harry had just hung the dish towel back on the oven handle when YN walks into the kitchen and straight at him, not giving him a chance to move before she’s wrapping her arms around his middle and hugging him.
A major part of her expects him to push her off, scoff at her, or to even just stiffen up to the point that it would feel like hugging a scarecrow.
But Harry, she was learning was absolutely full of surprises and he doesn’t do any of those things.
He doesn’t exactly soften but he does something that nearly stops her heart, he puts his hand on the nape of her neck which is a very intimate thing.
“You’re fine. You need to figure out how to control your disorder, it must be miserable living like that twice a year. Go get some sleep now,” Harry rumbles as he administers the lightest squeeze to that spot his hand was on.
YN purrs.
Her eyes widen and she flinched.
“Did you just-?” Harry begins to ask, voice getting rougher.
“Have a good day at the gym and work!” YN squirms out of his hold and hightails it to the bedroom, shutting the door quickly.
On her retreat, she swears that she hears Harry huffs out in a mixture of annoyance and humor, “Silly pup.” ++++++++_
#harry styles writing#harry styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles au#harry styles masterlist#harry styles fanfic#abo#harry styles fan fic#harry styles abo#harry styles fic
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Hay! Heh, I am a fan about your post, and i was wondering if you can do a bakugou x y/n post where they are 25 and have a 6 year old son named kanji that looks and acts like bakugou, and they are at a grocery store and kanji sees a toy and makes a BIG tantrum embarrassing Y/n, and bakugou let's out his strict father side, aka bakugou is 1 hero, so... yeah.... rich.. THANK YOU 😭
𝓒𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄
you loved your husband dearly—even though his attitude sometimes felt like wrangling a feral cat, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. katsuki was a great husband and an even better father. somehow, he managed to juggle being the number one hero, a title that came with endless demands, while still making time for you and your little family.
and then there was kanji. your six-year-old son who was, quite frankly, a miniature katsuki in every sense. the same fiery attitude, the unshakable stubbornness, the sass that could cut sharper than any blade. even the way he’d glare at people—it was uncanny. sometimes you’d swear you were looking at a younger version of your husband.
it wasn’t just his personality, either. kanji’s wild blond hair, sharp crimson eyes, and even the way he crossed his arms when he was annoyed? all bakugou. it was as if the universe had taken katsuki and hit the copy-paste button without consulting you first. you couldn’t help but feel a little robbed—after all, you were the one who carried him for nine months, dealt with the swollen feet, the cravings, the mood swings. and yet, kanji turned out to be a walking, talking katsuki replica.
but honestly? you didn’t really mind. even when kanji’s temper flared, or when he mimicked his dad’s bossy tone, it made your heart warm. because as much as katsuki’s attitude could be a challenge, you loved everything about him. and seeing those same traits in kanji, no matter how chaotic they made your days, was a reminder of the love the two of you had built.
you always knew how much your son looked up to his father—it was written all over kanji’s face. every little thing katsuki did, kanji wanted to do, too. he’d follow katsuki around the house, mimicking his movements, copying the way he crossed his arms or the gruff way he’d say, ‘tch’. kanji’s biggest dream, even at six years old, was to be the number one hero, just like his dad. and katsuki? oh, he ate that up.
“when you’re older, kid, i’ll show ya all the tricks.” katsuki would say, ruffling kanji’s already messy blond hair. “i’ll make sure you’re better than all those extras out there.” kanji’s eyes would light up every time, and the two of them would launch into some over-the-top conversation about training regimens and hero rankings. their bond was undeniable, built on the same fiery ambition and drive that katsuki had passed down to him.
but with that bond came the attitude. katsuki’s attitude. and you swore sometimes it was your curse to deal with two versions of the same fiery temper under one roof. kanji had inherited more than just katsuki’s looks—he had the same sharp tongue, the same unrelenting sass, and the same way of glaring at you like you were personally ruining his day when he didn’t get his way.
you loved your son to pieces, but oh, how your patience was tested.
you swore sometimes you could feel your eye twitch when your six-year-old son had the audacity to sass you. “kanji, clean up your toys.” you’d say, only to be met with an exasperated; “ugh, fine, mom. i’ll do it later, jeez!” complete with an eye roll so dramatic it could win awards.
“watch your tone, kanji.” you’d warn, and from the next room, katsuki would shout, “oi, don’t be talkin’ to your mom like that, you little brat!” and yet, you’d catch him stifling a laugh when kanji wasn’t looking, because deep down, katsuki knew exactly where the kid got it from.
there were days you swore you were outnumbered—two bakugous against one you—but deep down, you couldn’t help but love it. kanji’s sass, as frustrating as it could be, was just another reminder of the fiery, headstrong family you’d built. even if it meant you’d occasionally lose an argument to a six-year-old.
and that’s how you ended up in this situation. you were just trying to get through the grocery trip without any chaos. that was the goal. in and out—grab the essentials and avoid anything that might set off your six-year-old son, kanji. but, of course, life had other plans.
everything had been going smoothly until you turned down the toy aisle, rookie mistake. kanji’s sharp gaze zeroed in on a display of action figures, specifically a limited-edition hero toy that looked suspiciously like dynamight himself. his tiny hand grabbed your sleeve, tugging with determination.
“mom! mom! look! it’s dad’s toy! i need it!”
you gave him a soft smile, crouching down to his level. “kanji, we’re not getting toys today, baby. we’re just here for groceries. you already have tons of toys at home.”
big mistake.
his bottom lip jutted out, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “but i don’t have this one!”
before you could reason with him, he dropped to the floor in a dramatic fashion, kicking his legs and letting out an ear-piercing wail that had heads turning from all directions. your cheeks burned as you tried to calm him, murmuring soft words that fell on deaf ears.
“kanji, stop this right now.” you whispered, glancing around at the growing number of onlookers. “you’re making a scene.”
“i don’t care!” he shouted back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “i want it!”
just as you were about to give up and let the earth swallow you whole, a familiar voice cut through the chaos like a whip.
“kanji.”
you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. katsuki’s voice was low and sharp, the kind that made grown adults flinch—and it had your son freezing mid-tantrum.
before you could say anything else, katsuki—who’d been a few steps behind grabbing something off the shelf—appeared, his towering figure and unmistakable presence shutting down the entire aisle’s noise. his crimson eyes narrowed as he looked at kanji.
“oi, brat. knock it off.” he barked, his voice low and firm, the same tone he used as pro hero dynamight when things got serious. kanji’s sobs faltered for a moment, but he looked up at his dad with that same fiery determination katsuki himself had mastered.
“but daddy! i need it!” kanji tried, sniffling dramatically.
“you don’t need it.” katsuki shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “what you need is to listen to your mom and stop actin’ like a damn spoiled kid.”
kanji’s bottom lip quivered. “but—”
“no buts.” katsuki interrupted, crouching down to kanji’s level. his tone softened just slightly, though his eyes stayed sharp. “you think screamin’ and cryin’ is gonna get you what you want? not a chance. that ain’t how it works. you don’t get somethin’ just ‘cause you throw a fit. you gotta earn it, got it?”
kanji blinked up at him, his tears slowing as the weight of his dad’s words sank in. he mumbled something incoherent, and katsuki tilted his head.
“what was that?”
“got it.” kanji said more clearly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
“good.” bakugou said, ruffling the boy’s spiky blonde hair before standing back up. he glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay, mama?”
“yeah.” you muttered, still feeling the lingering embarrassment from the scene. “thanks for stepping in.”
he smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. “you’ve been dealin’ with his crap all day, huh?”
“you have no idea.”
bakugou glanced back at kanji, who was now holding onto your leg, looking thoroughly chastised.“now quit the damn tears and help your mom with the list.” katsuki stood up and ruffled kanji’s messy blond hair, his version of an apology for being so harsh.
you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. katsuki turned to you with a smirk, his tone lighter now. “what?”
“strict dad mode, huh?” you teased, trying not to laugh.
“damn right. kid’s gotta learn. can’t have him thinkin’ just ‘cause his old man’s dynamight he can get whatever he wants.”
later, as you loaded groceries into the car, you noticed katsuki handing a small bag to kanji, who lit up with excitement.
“you bought it for him anyway?” you asked, raising a brow.
katsuki shrugged, smirking. “don’t get used to it, kid.” he said to kanji. “this doesn’t mean you get what you want every time.”
kanji nodded enthusiastically, clutching the action figure like it was the greatest treasure in the world.
you rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips. “strict dad, my ass.”
“hey.” katsuki shot back, pulling you closer. “i can be strict and still spoil my kid. he is a bakugou, after all.”
#this is so cute#sigh.. i need my man right NEOWW#bakugou katsuki#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo imagine#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsukibakugou#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki x you#mha bakugou#mha x reader
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𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 09
˗ˏˋ rules ˎˊ˗
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"Rules are funny things. You make them thinking they'll keep you safe, keep everything contained. But sometimes the person you're really trying to protect yourself from… is you"
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⋆��°✩ chapter details ✩°。⋆
word count: 6.5k
content: candle shop shenanigans, friend group dynamics, rules and boundaries
✧ author's note ✧
OKAY FIRST OF ALL—who absolutely LOVES Yeji? Because ME. The way she clocked Jungkook within seconds and had NO filter??? Like, I'm obsessed. Mans was genuinely SHOCKED that someone told him to sit his ass down. The audacity of this woman to not immediately melt under his smirky, tattooed menace energy?? I respect her so much. A feminist icon, if you will.
And IRYA. Ughhh, my precious girlie. The way she’s just casually vibing with Jungkook? Like?? They are NOTHING alike, and yet she’s over here just mingling with him, being friendly, unbothered, meanwhile Yeji is foaming at the mouth in the background. I love that contrast so much. It’s like, she doesn’t see him as a threat, just another guy in the room, which makes Jungkook (who is used to either being hated or obsessed over) lowkey confused. You can see the gears turning in his head like “Wait. Why aren’t you scared of me. Or pissed at me. Or flirting with me.” HAHAH POOR BOY.
And let’s talk about Jimin, because HELLO, my quiet support KING. He’s not even saying much in this chapter, but he’s there, next to Y/N, just in case. That kind of silent loyalty? The “I know you can handle yourself, but if you need me, I’m already here” type of presence??? I eat that up every time. Their friend group is everything to me.
Speaking of menace behavior—Jungkook. Are we surprised? He’s so unserious about everything. I loved giving him Kuko as a contact name for Y/N because in every fic, it’s always Kook or Kookie or Koo and I just—I wanted something different. Something slightly sharp and weird. Like, why does it sound like a pet name and an insult at the same time 😭😭 It’s PERFECT for their dynamic.
And finally, Y/N. My messy, mouthy, disaster baby. She is THEE representation of someone who’s barely entered adulthood, fresh into uni, kind of immature, kind of figuring it out, but loud as hell about it. Like, I KNOW some of y’all are probably reading this chapter thinking “girl, seriously??” but THAT'S THE POINT. She’s got so much personality, she’s a walking contradiction, she’s flawed, but she’s HER. I love her for it.
I also stuffed this chapter with SO many Easter eggs. Like, the foreshadowing is right there at the end, but I know y’all aren’t catching everything yet. You’ll come back later, reread it, and be like “OH MY GOD, KIKI???” And I’ll just be sitting here like 😌✌️ I love when a plan comes together.
Anyway, here’s Chapter 9, babes. Enjoy the mess. I’m off to go prep for my therapist session because, let’s be real, I probably projected a little too hard in this one LMAO.
⋆。°✩ read on ✩°。⋆
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You don't know why you agreed to go shopping with Yeji.
She texted at ass o'clock in the morning about "needing your expert opinion," and honestly? Your sleep-deprived brain just went sure, whatever without processing the implications. You just mentioned having to buy something for Emma — her birthday's in two weeks — and it was downhill from there.
"This place smells like a Pinterest board threw up," Yeji announces as you enter the third candle store of the day. Some fancy boutique with mason jars everywhere and prices that make you want to cry. "Who names a candle Whispers of Moonlight?"
"Someone getting paid way too much," you mutter, checking the price tag. Jesus. "Forty dollars for—is this supposed to smell like grass?"
"Rich people grass." Yeji picks up another one, face scrunching. "Autumn's Last Kiss. What does that even mean? Like, trees making out?"
"Pretty sure it's just pumpkin spice trying to be fancy."
"Capitalism is wild." She moves down the aisle, combat boots squeaking against the polished floor. "Oh shit, look at this one. Midnight Jasmine's Secret Rendezvous. That's not a candle, that's a Mills & Boon novel."
You snort, trailing after her. "Speaking of reading material—"
"We are not starting a book club book chat right now."
"I'm just saying, if you actually showed up to Victorian Lit—"
"And listen to Professor Stevens cream himself over Dickens for two hours? Pass." She picks up another candle, this one in black glass. "Dark Temptation. Bet you five bucks it smells like axe body spray."
She's not wrong. You wrinkle your nose as she waves it under your face. "Why does everything 'dark' and 'masculine' smell like a frat house?"
"Because the straights are not okay." Yeji sets it back, wiping her hands on her jeans like the scent might be contagious. "What did Emma say she likes again?"
"Anything except roses." You pause at a display of seasonal scents. "Her roommate burns those generic rose ones from the dollar store. Pretty sure she's traumatized."
"Valid." Yeji's already moved on to the next shelf, picking up random ones and reading their names in increasingly dramatic voices. "Summer's Sweet Embrace. Woodland Mystery. Oh my god, Bachelor's Button? What the fuck is a bachelor's button?"
"It's a flower," you say, distracted by a actually nice-looking sage and cedar one. Still overpriced, but... "My mom used to grow them."
"Sounds fake, but okay."
She’s quiet for a second. Then:
"What about this one?" Yeji holds up a purple candle, squinting at the label. "Lavender Dreams. Sounds pretentious as fuck."
"Put that down before you break it," you mutter, scanning the shelves. The prices are criminal. “And aren't you supposed to be in Art History right now?"
"Professor Wang's doing that thing again where he talks about his divorce for two hours." She shrugs, setting the candle back with surprising care. "I've already heard all about Karen three times this semester."
You roll your eyes, picking up a sage-scented one. And no, you're not lingering in the candle section because you love them, okay? Emma likes candles too. It's completely reasonable research for a birthday gift. Nothing to do with how your apartment could use some—
"These are boring anyway," Yeji declares, already moving on. Her attention snaps to something across the street. Barnes & Noble, its windows displaying the latest bestsellers.
"Wanna check out some books?" she asks, hands stuffed in the pockets of her worn-out grey zip-up. The one she definitely stole from Irya's closet.
"Since when do you read?" You snort, following her out of the candle store. Because you know damn well Yeji's idea of "reading" is skimming SparkNotes twenty minutes before class.
"Woah, judging a book by its cover?" She gestures to her whole aesthetic: combat boots, ripped jeans, that stolen sweater. "Just 'cause I look like this doesn't mean I don't read."
"You told me last week that Romeo and Juliet was, and I quote, 'straight people nonsense.'"
"It is straight people nonsense." She pushes open the bookstore's door, a blast of air conditioning hitting you. "But we need books for the club."
"You mean the chat group you named 'Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club' that's basically just for rambling and complaining?" Like how you ended up here today, victim to Yeji's class-skipping schemes. "That club?"
"Yeah?" She flashes that smile that you’re starting to associate with trouble. "C'mon, I need to check if they have Pride and Prejudice."
You trail after her into Fiction & Literature, past towering shelves and that distinct bookstore smell. "Pride and—hold up. Weren't you just shitting on romance classics?"
"Yeah, and?" She's already scanning the 'A' section with laser focus. "My girl wants to read it, so we're reading it."
"You're buying it because Irya mentioned it once in the group chat."
"And?" Yeji doesn't even pretend to deny it, moving purposefully through the aisles. "My girlfriend has taste. Unlike some people who waste their time reading..." she picks up a random book, "The Art of Corporate Finance."
"That's not even—"
"Found it!" She pulls out a leather-bound edition, definitely not the cheapest version available. "Look at this fancy shit. Irya's gonna love it."
You're about to point out how whipped she is when something catches your eye. A "Now Hiring" sign at the front counter, clean white letters against dark wood. Huh. You've been meaning to look for a job, something to get you out of the apartment more. And to help your finances. too. God knows you’d rather avoid having to ask mom and daddy for more money.
"Earth to Y/N?" Yeji waves a hand in front of your face. "You good?"
"Yeah, just..." You gesture vaguely at the sign.
Working at a bookstore wouldn't be the worst thing. Plus, employee discount.
"Oh shit, you should totally apply." She examines the sign with newfound interest. "Then you can hook me up with discounts on all the books Irya wants."
"I haven't even—"
"Excuse me?" she calls to a passing employee, ignoring your attempt to shut her up. "My friend here wants to apply for the job opening."
You're going to kill her. Slowly. With one of these hardcover books.
But the employee's already turning around—young guy, probably another student, name tag reading 'Mark'—and you can't exactly bolt without looking insane. Perfect. Just perfect.
"Oh, yeah?" Mark brightens. "We're actually pretty desperate for people who can work weekday afternoons. You have any retail experience?"
"I—"
"She's great with books," Yeji cuts in, because apparently she's your agent now. "Like, literally will fight someone over their trash literary takes. You should hear her rant about Hemingway."
You shoot her a death glare, but... well, she's not wrong about Hemingway.
"That's actually perfect," Mark says. "We get a lot of students asking for recommendations. Here—" He heads to the counter, returning with an application form. "You can fill this out now if you want. Manager's still here."
And somehow, because the universe hates you, you end up at one of the reading tables, filling out your work history while Yeji "helps" by suggesting you list your special skills as "roasting bad authors" and "setting pretentious men straight about their Joyce opinions."
Your phone buzzes. Group chat.
6B Hell
Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜? 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚗
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔
Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞
Yoongs 🎧: 𝚆𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝟻𝚝𝚑
Yoongs 🎧: ���𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚡 𝚖𝚊𝚗
You're about to reply that you'll grab some later when another message pops up.
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖
What the actual fuck?
You: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚌
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎
You let out a disbelieving sound. Yeji, who's been "helping" by pointing out every minor spelling mistake in your application, peers over your shoulder.
"What's up?"
"My roommate being a jerk as usual." You know for a fact Jungkook's probably sprawled on the couch right now, doing fuck-all except maybe killing brain cells on his PlayStation. But sure, you should get the coffee.
You: 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎
You: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘, 𝚒’𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎
Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝?
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚝
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎?
Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. That asshole.
You: 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗?
You: 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝…
You: 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢
You: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎?
Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽.
Something about Yoongi’s message makes you pause. That's... weird. But before you can think about it:
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 :)
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠?
"I'm assuming he means video games," Yeji says, still reading. "Not the fun kind of grinding."
You elbow her in the ribs.
You: 𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝
You: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘
You: 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎? :)
Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞
Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡? ;)
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜?
+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 :)
You're going to murder him. You're actually going to commit homicide, and Yoongi's going to have to find a new roommate, and you know what? He'll probably thank you.
You: 𝚛𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕
You: :)
"So," Yeji says as you aggressively save his number under 'Kuko🖕🏻', "this is fun."
"I hate him so much."
"Uh-huh." She glances at your phone, where he's still sending coffee emoji spam. "You know what this means though, right?"
"That I need better roommates?"
"That you're definitely getting this job." She taps the half-completed application. "Can't spend all your time at the apartment if you're working retail hours."
She... might have a point.
Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘
Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚢
Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝
Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝚎,𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛.
Your phone buzzes again, but this time it's the other group chat. Thank fuck.
Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club 📚
Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜?
Irya 🌸: 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗
Jin ☕️: 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
Jin ☕️: 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.
Jin ☕️: 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝟻𝟶𝚔𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝟻.
Jin ☕️: 𝙶𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎.
Your phone keeps vibrating with notifications from the other chat. You peek at it.
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Jesus fucking Christ.
Yeji 🖤: 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚢/𝚗’𝚜?
Yeji 🖤: 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎
Your head snaps up. "Excuse me?"
"What?" Yeji doesn't even look guilty. "You keep complaining about him, might as well know what we’re working with here."
You: 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝
You: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
Irya 🌸: 𝚘𝚘𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚜!! 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗??
Irya 🌸: 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗
Irya 🌸: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎?
You let out a loud sigh, now considering Irya’s question. Because part of you thinks about bringing unwanted guests to the apartment, about how that could disturb the peace, especially for Yoongi.
But also? Also, Jungkook brought his friends last time. No warning, no group chat message to let you know you’d meeting random dudes in your pokemon PJs.
So he can suck it, honestly.
You: 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎
You: 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘
Jin ☕️: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙹𝚘𝚎’𝚜.
Jin ☕️: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎.
Jin ☕️: 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗.
Another cascade of coffee emojis floods your notifications. You switch back to the apartment chat.
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟿𝟶% 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚎
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️
You hit mute so fast you nearly crack your screen.
You: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎
You: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚈𝙾𝚄’𝚁𝙴 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚎𝚓𝚒
Yeji 🖤: 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘 𝚗𝚘
Yeji 🖤: 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟻𝟶 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔
Yeji 🖤: 𝚒𝚖 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎
Irya 🌸: 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔? 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎? 👀
Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔?!?!?! 💘
Jin ☕️: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.
Jin ☕️: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.
Yeji 🖤: 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢
Yeji 🖤: 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜
"So," Yeji says, watching you aggressively fill out the availability section of your application. "Should we warn your roommate about pizza night or...?"
You think about the endless coffee emojis. About how he's probably still spamming them, the notifications piling up in your muted chat.
"Nope."
She grins. "Chaos it is."
You make it to your apartment after what feels like the longest trek ever, juggling the coffee capsules bag and your dignity. And no, you didn't buy them because of him, okay? You bought them because Yoongi deserves his caffeine fix. Yoongi, who actually helped you carry boxes up flights of stairs when you moved in. Yoongi, who warns you when the hot water's acting up. Yoongi, who—unlike some people—doesn't blast music at 3AM.
"Still can't believe you actually bought them," Yeji says for the fifth time, trailing behind you up the stairs. "Like, you're really just gonna enable his bratty ass?"
"They're not for him." You dig through your bag for your keys. "I got the regular ones for Yoongi. The vanilla ones are mine."
"Uh-huh." She's got that look again. "And you got the vanilla ones because...?"
"Because I like vanilla coffee." Your keys jangle aggressively as you search. "Not everything is about him."
"I offered to spike them," she reminds everyone, way too loudly for a hallway. "Could've made it look factory-sealed and everything."
Jimin looks slightly concerned. "Do I want to know why you know how to do that?"
"Probably not," Irya says cheerfully. "But that's why I love her."
You finally locate your keys, jamming them into the lock. It sticks—because of course it does, these old-ass doors—and you have to do that weird wiggle thing to get it open. "The last thing I need is a lawsuit for attempted murder by coffee."
"It wouldn't kill him," Yeji argues. "Just, you know. Mild poisoning. Character building."
"Pretty sure that's still illegal," Jimin says.
"Only if you get caught."
The door finally gives, swinging open to reveal... nobody. The living room's empty, thank fuck. No sign of Yoongi or—more importantly—no sign of him. Maybe they're both out. Maybe you'll actually get through this pizza night without any—
"Yo, this is actually nice," Yeji says, already making herself at home on the couch. "When you said 'bros' cave' I was expecting, like, beer pong tables and stolen street signs."
"Those are in Jungkook's room," you mutter, dropping the coffee bag on the kitchen counter. Not that you've seen his room. You haven't. Obviously.
Irya's examining the vinyl collection by the TV. "These are good albums. Your roommates have taste."
"Those are Yoongi's." Probably. You're like 90% sure they're Yoongi's. You've never actually asked.
"The place is surprisingly clean," Jimin notes, still hovering politely by the door. "Need help with anything?"
"Nah, just—" You pause as something orange streaks past. "Oh, shit, wait—Griffin, no—"
Too late. Your cat roommate's already winding between Jimin's legs, purring like the attention whore he is.
"You have a cat?" Irya drops to her knees immediately. "Oh my god, he's gorgeous."
"He's not mine." You dump your bag on the counter. "He's Jungkook's emotional support menace."
"Like owner, like cat," Yeji says, watching Griffin charm his way into Jimin's arms.
"True." You roll your eyes. "Demanding, dramatic, and constantly in the way."
Griffin headbutts Jimin's shin, purring louder.
"Should I..." He looks uncertain. "Is this okay?"
"Yeah, he does that." You start unpacking the coffee capsules. “He's harmless. Just attention-starved and thinks he owns the place."
"Again," Yeji says, "like owner, like cat."
"Pretty much.”
"At least the cat's cute." She stretches out on the couch, combat boots definitely leaving marks. "Makes up for the personality."
"Tragic how the genes weren't distributed evenly," you mutter, strategizing about how to arrange the coffee capsules in the cabinet. Normal ones for Yoongi, vanilla ones hidden in the back where grabby hands can't reach them.
Irya's still on the floor with Griffin, who's now rolled onto his back. "I don't know, he seems sweet."
"The cat? Yeah." You slam the cabinet open. "The owner? Walking nightmare."
"Speaking of nightmares." Jimin's still by the door, ever polite. "Should we maybe warn him we're having pizza here? Since it's his apartment too..."
You think about the forty-seven coffee emojis still sitting in your muted notifications.
"Nope."
"Absolutely not," Yeji agrees. "He can deal with it like she dealt with having his dudebro friends over last week."
Irya looks up from scratching Griffin's belly. "Oh yeah, didn't you say you ran into them in your—what was it?"
"Pokemon pajamas," you groan. "Look, they were clean, okay? And it was like, Saturday morning. Who has people over at Saturday morning?"
"Douchebags," Yeji supplies helpfully.
You're about to agree when you hear it. A door opening down the hall. Footsteps.
Of-fucking-course.
"You bought the coffee, phoenix?"
The drawl comes from behind you, and you briefly consider whether jail time for murder would really be that bad. Jungkook's leaning against his doorframe in—are those fucking Sonic pajama pants?—looking like he just rolled out of bed. At 7PM. Because of course he did.
"Nice little reunion you got going on here, by the way."
He yawns, running a hand through his messy hair as he saunters into the kitchen. Like this is totally fine. Like having your friends over without warning isn't exactly what he did last week with Hoseok and Taehyung—who, by the way, apparently has keys to your fucking apartment.
You pointedly ignore him, which would work better if he wasn't literally heading straight for you. He reaches around you to rummage through the shopping bags, and you slap his hands away.
“Get out of my stuff."
"Oh," he pulls out the vanilla capsules before you can stop him, "you actually got me the vanilla ones?"
"They're not for you." You snatch them back. "Get your hands off them."
He grabs for them again. "Pretty sure you bought them because—"
"I bought them for me." You yank them away, but he's already going for the other bag. "Oh my god, can you not—"
"So this is the pain in the ass?" Yeji's voice drips with disdain from the couch.
Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, still trying to get his hands on your shopping. "Who's Cruella de Vil over there?"
You elbow him away from the bags. "None of your—"
"Another candle?" He snatches it up, holding it over his head where you can't reach. Dick. "Seriously? After last time?"
"If you'd stop making everything smell like balls and nachos—" You jump for it, but he just stretches higher, "—I wouldn't have to buy them, Rogue."
"I don't smell like—"
"Wait," Irya interrupts, and you catch her hiding a smile behind her hand. "Phoenix?"
"Rogue?" Jimin adds quietly from his corner, looking between you back and forth.
Jungkook's smirk widens as he finally lets you grab the candle back. "Oh, she hasn't told you that story?"
"We are not discussing this again." You shove the candle in its bag. "Ever."
"Why not? It's hilarious." He's fully grinning now, leaning his hip against the counter like he owns it. "Haven't told them about how you almost set the place on fire your first week here?"
"BECAUSE YOU ENTERED THE HOUSE LIKE A FUCKING—" Your hand's fisted in his t-shirt before you can stop yourself, and he's snickering, the absolute dick. "Like a complete psychopath," you finish through gritted teeth.
"The lock sticks!" He's still laughing. "I told you, it's an old door—"
"You didn't have to shoulder it open like the SWAT team!"
"You dropped a lit match!"
"Because you scared the shit out of me!"
"Ugh," Yeji groans. "Is he always like this?"
"Worse," you mutter, finally releasing his shirt. "Usually he's too busy being edgy in his room with his electric guitar."
Irya's definitely smirking now. Jimin looks like he wants to disappear into the wall.
"Whatever, phoenix." He makes another grab for the vanilla capsules. "Rising from the ashes of your attempted arson."
"That's not—" You smack his hand away. "That's not why you started calling me that and you know it."
"Pretty sure it is."
"Pretty sure you're full of shit."
Griffin chooses this moment to abandon Irya and wind between Jungkook's legs, the little traitor. Jungkook immediately scoops him up, and you pretend not to notice how the cat starts purring instantly.
"See?" He scratches under Griffin's chin. "G knows I'm right."
"G's a whore for attention." You start shoving the shopping bags away. "He'd side with Satan if Satan had treats."
"So that's why he likes you."
"You calling me Satan now? Wasn't it phoenix? Pick your poison, dumbass."
"Nah." He's still petting Griffin, who's practically melting in his arms. "Just saying you're both dramatic as fuck."
"Says the guy who kicked down a door over a—"
"The lock was stuck!"
"Yeah? Like your head up your ass?"
“Do you two always do this?” Irya prompts.
"No," you mutter, yanking the coffee bag away as he tries to sneak another grab at it. "When he's not gaming like a twelve-year-old, he's—stop touching my stuff!"
"Just checking what flavor you got," he says innocently, which might work better if he wasn't actively trying to steal the vanilla capsules. "Since you bought them for me and all—"
"I will actually murder you."
"With what? Another candle?"
"Keep talking and find out."
"Children," Yeji interrupts, looking physically pained. "Can we not?"
But Jungkook's already reaching for the bag again, and you swat his hand away. "I swear to god—"
"What? I'm just being neighborly—"
"You're being a pain in the ass—"
"Aw, you noticed?"
"Hard not to when you're—" You break off as he successfully snags a vanilla capsule. "Give that back."
"Make me."
"What are you, five?"
"Says the one hoarding coffee—"
"It's my coffee—"
"Pretty sure you bought it with daddy's credit card—"
The words hit like a slap and before you can think better of it, you snarl, "Fuck you."
Your eyes widen the second it leaves your mouth because you know that look on his face, that slight quirk of his lips, the way he's already—
You slam your hand over his mouth so fast you practically punch him, fingers digging into his jaw. He makes a muffled sound of protest, but you can feel him grinning under your palm, the absolute dick.
"Don't," you hiss. "Don't you fucking dare."
He raises his eyebrows like who, me? but you can feel him trying not to laugh.
"Okay!" Jimin claps his hands together, looking slightly alarmed. "So, pizza? Anyone want to look at the menu?”
“Oooh, that sounds promising.” Jungkook says, yanking your hand away.
"Can't you leave?" You eye him. "Go jack yourself off while you look in the mirror or something. Maybe play your fucking guitar."
"Huhhh?" He's already propping his elbows on the back of the sofa, leaning over the narrow table that ‘separates’ the kitchen from the living room. "I want pizza too. Plus, your friends look nice." His smile is all teeth. "I'm sure they don't mind."
Jimin materializes next to you in the kitchen like some kind of conflict-sensing angel, pretending to be interested in the coffee maker. You know he's checking if you're okay, which would be sweet if you weren't currently fantasizing about drowning Jungkook in vanilla coffee.
"I mind," Yeji announces flatly.
"No problem!" Irya chirps at the same time.
Yeji shoots her girlfriend an exasperated look, but Irya just settles more comfortably against her side. You're going to kill both of them.
"Who's the pink pony over here?" Jungkook nods at Irya, and you see Yeji's arm tighten around her shoulders, hackles practically visible.
"Touch her and die."
"Aww, babe." Irya pats Yeji's thigh. "I'm Irya, and this little black cat over here is my girlfriend Yeji." She points across the room. "That's Jimin."
Jungkook glances back at where you're now aggressively reorganizing coffee capsules, Jimin hovering uncertainly beside you. There's something in his expression you don't like, mouth opening to say god knows what—
"And the third roommate?" Yeji cuts in.
You're about to answer but Jungkook beats you to it. "Yoongi's not here."
"Working late," you add, just to be contrary. "You know, like an actual adult with a job?"
"Unlike some people," Yeji mutters.
You snort at her commentary, and you tune out Jungkook’s comeback. Instead your eyes flicker to Jimin, who’s scrolling through his phone, probably looking at pizza options, when—
"Yo Jim, come here." Jungkook waves him over. "Let me look at the menu."
You grab Jimin's arm before he can move, linking it with yours. "I'm choosing first, wait your damn turn."
Jungkook rises from the sofa with a click of his tongue. "Come on, I just wanna—"
"Did she fucking stutter?" Yeji snaps, and Jungkook actually blinks, like he's not used to being shut down that fast.
You turn back to Jimin's phone with maybe a bit too much satisfaction. "Okay, so what are we thinking?"
"They have this new quattro formaggi that's supposed to be good." Jimin tilts the screen so you can see better. "Or the classic margherita—"
"Boring," you mutter, scrolling past. "Oh, what about the spicy one? With the—"
"The calabrese?" He zooms in on the description. "Spicy salami, fresh basil..."
"That looks good." You're actually getting hungry now. "Maybe we could—"
A shadow falls over the phone as Jungkook appears in front of you like some kind of pizza-seeking missile. He peers over both your lowered heads, close enough that you can feel the heat from his chest, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs.
"Have you two decided?" His breath hits your ear. "Because I—"
You're about to grab a fistful of his hair and yank him back to a respectable distance when he snatches Jimin's phone right out of his hands.
"What the fuck—" You start to reach for him, but Jimin catches your wrist.
"It's okay," he says quietly. "Don't worry about it."
Jungkook's already scrolling, completely unbothered. "Yo, what do you two want?" He nods at the couch without looking up.
"Hawaiian for me," Irya pipes up cheerfully. "Yeji wants the diavola, extra spicy."
Yeji just grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "men" and turns on the TV.
"Cool, cool." Jungkook's still scrolling. "Phoenix, you getting the calabrese?"
"None of your business."
"Just trying to make sure we don't order the same thing." He glances up with that insufferable smirk. "Unless you want to share?"
"I'd rather eat glass."
"Okay, so that's a no on sharing." He's still scrolling through Jimin's phone like he owns it. "I'm thinking meat lovers."
"Of course you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That you're basic as fuck."
"Says the one getting—" he squints at the screen "—spicy calabrese, like some—"
"Can you two shut up for five minutes?" Yeji snaps from the couch. "Some of us are trying to hear the TV."
"My bad," Jungkook says, not sounding sorry at all. He hands Jimin's phone back—finally—and stretches. "Alright, four pizzas ordered. Now we wait."
You watch him sprawl onto the armchair—the one he keeps arguing it’s his (it’s not?)—like he belongs there, and something about it sets your teeth on edge. The casual way he's inserted himself into your evening, how he's somehow charmed Irya into actual conversation, how he keeps looking at you when he thinks you're not paying attention.
"Whatever, man." You push away from the counter, desperate to get away from his presence for at least two minutes. "I'm gonna get into my PJs, I'll be back."
You head down the hall, your skin prickling like he's watching you go. Which he's not. Obviously. You're just on edge because he's being more insufferable than usual, getting all cozy with your friends like he has any right to—
"Yo, phoenix, wait." Jungkook's voice stops you. "Remember that thing with the landlord? The, uh, maintenance form?"
"What maintenance form?"
"You mentioned to Yoongi about the lock sticking, right?" He's already moving towards you with that easy confidence that makes you want to punch him. "Super's been bitching about proper documentation. Needs your signature since it's your door."
He keeps talking as he approaches, something about liability and repair schedules, and it sounds legitimate enough that you almost miss how he's gradually crowding your space. Almost miss how each step brings him closer until—
He reaches past you, hand brushing your hip as he turns the handle. The door barely has time to click shut before Jungkook’s on you, his whole body crowding into yours, ushering you backward so fast you stumble. Almost fall.
“Jesus—”
Your balance tips, but before you can catch yourself, his hands are already on you—grabbing, steadying, possessive. A solid chest against yours, broad palms locking around your wrists before you can shove him away.
He grins down at you, smirky, flushed, pupils blown. That lazy, cocky amusement dripping from his expression like he planned this. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Relax, Phoenix.” His grip tightens, pulling your wrists just slightly apart. “You’re fine.”
And then his mouth crashes onto yours.
Hard. Messy. Zero warning, zero hesitation. Just heat and teeth and tongue, urgent like he needs to shut you up.
You match him instantly, kissing back just as fiercely, nails curling into his shirt, yanking him closer. His hair is soft under your fingers, thick and dangerous, and you tug—just the way he likes it. Just the way that always makes him groan, makes him grab.
Which he does. Both hands drop to your ass, full palms, fingers digging in like he can’t help himself. A rough squeeze that pulls a breathy sound from your throat before you can stop it.
He chuckles, low and wrecked against your lips, hips rolling slow and deliberate against yours.
“Fuck—” Another squeeze, his voice dropping. “You get all mouthy with me, and then you act surprised when you turn me on?”
Your stomach flips.
His mouth is still moving against yours, sharp and demanding, and fuck—you’re dizzy, heat curling low and deep.
You don’t realize he’s backing you up until your spine collides with the wardrobe.
You wince. “God, fuck—”
Jungkook barely lets you finish before his teeth graze your jaw, lips dragging lower—
No.
You shove at his chest, breath coming fast. “What is your problem?”
His smirk is instant, panting slightly, lips wrecked. The fucking look in his eyes—smoky, half-lidded, shamelessly pleased with himself.
“Mm?” He tilts his head, like he didn’t just grope the hell out of you. “What?”
“You can’t—” A sharp inhale. You straighten your shirt, glare sharp enough to cut. “My friends are here.”
He blinks. Shrugs. "So?"
"So," you bite out, "we are not doing this."
Jungkook just looks at you, like you’re speaking a foreign language. "Doing what?"
"Don't." You level him with a flat stare.
His head tilts, gaze dragging over you, slow and deliberate. "I just wanted to talk."
"Talk," you repeat, incredulous.
"Yeah." He plants a hand on the wardrobe beside your head. Not caging you in—just existing in your space, like he belongs there. "Privately."
Jesus fuck.
"Nope." You press your palms to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through cotton. "Not happening."
"Phoenix." His voice dips, lazy and smooth, like he’s humoring you. "I'll be quick."
A disbelieving scoff. "Absolutely the fuck not."
He laughs, quiet and amused, like this is funny to him.
Of course it is. Of course it is.
You shove at his chest again. "They don’t know about this, and they’re not going to know about this."
His brows pull together, expression open, genuinely confused. "Why?"
Oh, you could kill him.
"Because," you grind out, "I don't need them speculating."
"Speculating about what?"
"About us, dumbass!"
The words land—and then he snorts. He just, snorts. Like you just told him a funny joke he lowkey doesn’t want to laugh at.
"Oh, fuck off," you snap.
His grin lingers. "Nix. We fuck. That’s it. No one’s gonna think we’re picking out wedding invitations."
You glare. "You're missing the point."
"I really don't think I am."
"Rogue." You exhale sharply. "I don’t want them in my business, okay?"
He watches you for a beat, head tilted like he’s reading between the lines.
Then he nods. Simple. Easy. "Okay."
You blink. "Okay?"
"Yeah?" He shrugs. "You don’t want them to know, they won’t know. It’s not that deep."
Right. Not that deep.
It shouldn’t be a relief—he’s only agreeing because he doesn’t care—but your shoulders still drop a fraction.
"Good," you say.
He hums, gaze flicking over your face, considering. "I mean, it’s not like you gotta tell them I’m your boyfriend or something. Just that we fuck sometimes. What’s wrong with that?"
You scoff. "Everything is wrong with that, Jungkook."
He raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"
Like—god, where do you start?
Like the fact that this is supposed to be contained, something that stays locked in this apartment and nowhere else. Like the fact that you need to be in control of it because if you’re not, it means it’s spiraling, and spiraling is—
Not an option.
He hums, considering. The vibration shivers over your skin. "Interesting."
The fuck does that mean?
You glare at him. "What?"
"Nothing." But there's a glint in his eye you don't like. Knowing. Assessing. "Just seems like you're overthinking it."
"I'm not—"
"Ashamed?" His head tilts. "Embarrassed?"
Heat crawls up your neck. "Fuck you."
"I mean." A slow drag of his gaze, head to toe and back again. "If you insist..."
Oh my god.
Your foot connects with his shin. Hard. He grunts, flinching back. Good.
"Touch me again," you growl, "and you lose your dick."
He holds up his hands. The picture of innocence. "Message received."
"Is it?" You cross your arms. Narrow your eyes. "Because it seems like you're having trouble understanding basic fucking boundaries."
"Nah, I get it." But there's a wicked glint in his eye, and oh, that can't be good. "No telling your friends about all the filthy things we do."
"There is no we.” You jab a finger at his chest. "No us."
A slow nod. "Right."
"I mean it, Rogue." You hold his gaze, unflinching. "This?" A sharp gesture between your bodies. "Doesn't leave this apartment."
"Mm." His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. Deliberate. Obscene. "So I shouldn't mention how you like it when I—"
Your hand clamps over his mouth, muffling his words. "Finish that sentence and die."
He grins against your palm, wholly unrepentant. Bastard.
You drop your hand. Take a step back. "I'm serious, Ry."
"Oh, I know." But there's a curl to his lips you don't trust. Not one bit.
"Do you?" You cross your arms. "Because it sounds like you're angling for a free pass to run your mouth."
"Nah." He mirrors your posture, arms folding over his chest. “Just getting a feel for the rules."
Right. Sure. "The rules are simple." You hold up a finger. "Rule one: no one knows we're fucking."
A nod. "Easy enough."
"Rule two," you continue, "if anyone asks, we're just roommates."
"Uh-huh." His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. Considering. "That all?"
Wariness prickles up your spine. "Why?"
A shrug. Too casual. "No reason."
Bullshit.
You shake your head. "Just—forget it. Are we done here?"
Jungkook watches you for another long second.
Then he nods. "Yeah, we're done."
He turns, already reaching for the doorknob, when—
"Oh." A pause. Like he just remembered something. "And just so we're clear—this isn’t exclusive, right?"
You blink. "What?"
He glances back, expression easy. Casual. "Like, I can fuck other people. That cool with you?"
A laugh bursts out of you. Short. Sharp. "Why the fuck would I care?"
His mouth twitches. "Dunno. Just making sure."
"Well, consider it confirmed." You fold your arms. "Do whatever the fuck you want, just—"
He lifts his brows. "Just?"
"Don’t give me an STD." You level him with a flat look.
He snorts. "Noted." A beat. Then, amused— "You want test results?"
"Oh, fuck off, Rogue."
"Just offering, Phoenix." His smirk lingers for half a second before his expression smooths out. "So, rule number three, then."
You narrow your eyes. "Rule what?"
"Rules." He gestures between you. "One: no one knows. Two: if they ask, we're just roommates." A pause. "Three: no feelings."
Something in his voice shifts, something light but pointed, like he's not saying it just for your benefit.
You scoff. "Yeah, no shit."
He nods once, satisfied. "Cool."
And then he's gone, door clicking shut behind him like the whole thing never happened.
The air in the room is suddenly too thick.
You exhale sharply, back hitting the wardrobe, and press your palms over your face.
God damn him.
Not just for being an insufferable pain in your ass, but for being right. Because logically, there's no reason to keep this a secret—he's not your boyfriend, he's just your roommate who happens to fuck you sometimes. It's not a big deal. It's not anything.
But something in you rebels at the thought of anyone knowing. Of having to explain yourself, to justify your choices. You've had enough of that to last a lifetime, enough of measuring every decision against someone else's expectations. Enough of being told what you should want, what you should do, who you should be.
This thing with Jungkook? It's yours. Messy and stupid and probably a horrible idea, but it's yours. The one thing in your life that nobody gets to have an opinion about, that nobody gets to control but you.
And maybe that's fucked up. Maybe normal people don't feel this desperate need to keep parts of themselves hidden, to maintain this iron grip on every aspect of their lives. Maybe they don't lie awake at night planning escape routes from their own decisions.
But you've never been very good at normal, have you?
You straighten, smooth your shirt, school your face into something neutral.
Then you open the door, step back into the living room, and pretend like your world isn’t tilting.
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#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts x reader#bts scenario#bts imagine#jungkook imagine#bts jungkook#bts fanfiction#jk fic#bts au#jungkook oneshot#jungkook angst#jungkook college au#college jungkook#bts scenarios#jungkook scenarios#jungkook scenario#bts fic recs#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x y/n#fmu#fuck me up
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I would love to see the chain react to reader from the atla universe or just one that uses bending in the same way? Just using bending unconsciously and freaking them all out because of it.
I love Atla, I loved writing this! I didn't know what kind of bending you were expecting, so I did waterbending, I hope you like it.
A notice about orders; I'm doing them in order, so if yours takes a little longer, it's probably because I'm working on others, but they'll all be done! And I'm very happy with them too, don't worry about it, you can send them, I'm loving your ideas.
It was a hot sunny day, so much so that Chain mutually agreed to take a break to go into the nearby river. It was a calm river with a small waterfall that made a pleasant noise in the environment. Wild and Wind were the first to jump in, excited as children, well, at least one of them was one. I couldn’t have been happier. You could say that the water is my territory, so on a day like this, being in cold water was paradise for me.
Little by little, the others started to enter the river too. It was easy for them, they could just take off their tunics and equipment and get in, while I had to temporarily separate from the group to change and put on a bathing suit, but that was okay, it didn’t take long. Soon I was also entering the river to enjoy the sunny day.
The cold water touched my body bringing a welcome feeling of relief, cooling my hot and sweaty skin, but this moment of peace was short-lived after I felt a wave of water hit me directly in the face, followed by the sound of childish laughter. That brat. I imitated his attitude, pushing water with my hands towards him, hitting him with everything and stopping his laughter. The sailor still had the audacity to better himself with indignation, as if he hadn’t been the first to start. I could hear the others laughing in the background too, but they didn’t have the courage to get involved in this. Now it was war.
Soon the area of the river where we were became a mess of water being splashed in all directions incessantly. Until I could feel a particularly strong attack coming from Wind, and instinctively wanted to retaliate even more. The movements so natural to me happened without me even being able to think about it, soon a small wave, but bigger than any I could generate with my bare hands, appeared next to me and went towards the Sailor, strong enough to make him stay underwater for a few seconds, raising his head in surprise and confusion right after.
— Aha, I won! – I exclaimed excitedly, but my excitement died when I saw the lack of reaction not only from the sailor, but from all the boys. – What happened? Was I too harsh?
— How did you do that?! – Wind was the first to speak, coming towards me excitedly. Only then did I understand my mistake.
— Yeah, was that some kind of magic? – Wars asked, intrigued.
— I’ve never heard of magic like that. – Hyrule replied, looking curious and suspicious at the same time.
— Well, that’s because it’s not magic. – I replied, creating even more doubts in everyone, who remained silent waiting for me to continue. – You know, you may not know much about the place I come from, but there’s no magic there. On the other hand, there are people there who can have some control over one of the elements of nature, using specific movements. We’re called benders.
Even when I tried to explain, they seemed terribly confused and incredulous. Of course, they already knew I came from a different kind of world, and had somehow ended up here through a strange portal, but I’ve avoided talking about my home to them, precisely because I thought it might be too much for them to take in. Just as it has been for me.
— So, you can simply control the elements of nature? – The Champion questioned, not very confident about it.
— Not all of them, and we call it bending. There are four main types of bending, water, fire, earth and air. People who have this ability can only bend one of the four, with the exception of the Avatar. – I can’t tell if throwing all this information out was useful or just made the situation worse.
— That’s cool! – Wind exclaimed. – Show me more, that’s really cool!
— Well, that’s definitely interesting, could you demonstrate more of that? – Time asked, and I could tell he wanted to analyze it better.
— Yeah, what do you normally use it for? – Twilight was the next to ask.
— Well, waterbending can be used as a medicinal method, and each bending can be used for various everyday things, and for fighting.
— You mean you could have used it to fight this whole time and you just chose not to?! – Legend seemed indignant at that.
— Well... I already imagined it would be difficult to explain about this. – I replied, while using my bending again as they had asked me to, making a large ball of water float over the river.
— Cool. – Wild said. – Now that we know and you can use it, I’m sure it can be very useful.
— Yeah, you said it has medicinal properties? That would be really good. – The Traveler questioned, receiving a positive answer from me.
— Guys, you’re forgetting the main thing! – Wind said, getting everyone’s attention. – Have you thought about the games we can play with this?
Everyone snorted at the boy’s childish answer, when we expected something a little more important than that. I was afraid to talk about it with them, but they ended up being much more understanding than I imagined. That’s good.
— But I must admit that I’m very curious about this too. Can you show me other things you can do? You said there are four main bends, does that mean there are other smaller bends? – Sky asked excitedly, and everyone seemed as curious as he was about the subject.
— Hey, this would be really useful for forging swords, can you help me next time I work on the Champion’s sword? – The blacksmith was the next to ask, which created a gap for a flood of different questions.
— Can you close wounds?
— What exactly would an “avatar” be?
— How does earthbending work?
— Can I be considered an airbender?
— How do movements influence this?
Soon, I was surrounded by curious blondes and being drowned in their curious questions. I think we’re going to spend a good amount of time on this subject.
#link x reader#linked universe x reader#linked universe#lu x reader#tloz#legend of zelda#linked universe fanfic#x reader#atla
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Astarion underestimated you.
Seduction edition. First Round.
Warning for game spoilers and adult themes.
Tea time! Got the hibiscus tea out this time to match some of the tart in this post. No blame, no shame, it's your game.
As a hypervigilant person, facial expressions speak louder than words to me. This unpacking is based off of his face as the time things were said, vs what he said or dev notes. This is a cannon post. Not fact.
In my playthrough I triggered the sex scene before the Tiefling party. Which had me in hysterics because his dead ass propositioned me in front of everybody in the party that day. Like he was asking me to share a sandwich later and not offering to put me on my knees and make me beller like a mule.
Astarion Audacity Ancunin! Really?!
Anyway....
I am fairly certain when he promises you a night you wont forget. He wasn't thinking that he too would not forget that night. Lets look at how you disrupted his rizz.
The initial seduction goes as normal for him. He is charming, suggestive and even encouraging when you are unsure. Ensuring you come willingly to his web.
After you agree, you get your your first glimpse of what I believe is him disassociating. He does not smile or continue the seductive look when he says "I can't wait." His yes are just gone. He hates this game.
After you meet up with him in the woods he is pretty confident that you are going to do exactly what he expects of you and his plan will go off without a hitch. However...
You play hard to get.
Nothing says "What game are we playing here?" quite like this face when you tell him he does not have you yet. He is trying to figure out your intentions here. He was pretty certain you were coming out in the woods to ride him to the fey wild and back and most likely did not expect you to be cheeky. This might be the first moment he realizes this might not be a typical encounter.
"I need to get this back on track!"
Enter the redirect. The split second where he slips out of the sexy facade due to your flirty comment and then back into it.
He thinks everything is back on schedule and he is in control again.
But then, you ask him what he wants.
Oh, hello real Astarion. (brain exec has failed here)
You can bet, given the consistency of his past, he was ready for you to just speed past the formalities and get your hands on him for you own needs like every conquest before you. He does not expect anyone to care enough to ask him about his own desires in these moments. (He affirms this down the friendship route where he says he himself never got any pleasure out of the act.) So when you do, the mask of the seductive rake slips off even longer as he suddenly has no idea how to respond to someone who has gone completely off script. To me, the look on his face reads "Oh shit. What did they just ask me?! Why did they ask me that?! What in the hells do I say?! " But he redirects again trying to bring the encounter back into familiar territory by dialing up the sexuality again by using "taste" as an inuendo.
But then doubt sets in. "That's what you want, isn't it?"
He is on the back foot now. The facade is crumbling. You are not where he can see you in his normal view of how this rendezvous should go. You're not responding like he is used to. You haven't tried to grope him yet. You haven't gotten into his personal space. He's given you the "go" why are you not moving?
"To lose yourself in me."
I know a lot of people read this moment as he is sad you are agreeing to sleep with him. But it doesn't quite fit. Why try to be so convincingly seductive through the whole thing just to drop it all right at the "win" ? The smart thing to do would be to keep the mask of lust on. But he doesn't. It falls completely off here.
Maybe its because you are not responding with reckless lust in return and he feels like his plan has already failed.
Maybe it because you are being too nice to him and he is feeling ashamed for manipulating you.
Maybe he fears this might be another Sebastian situation where he is using someone he doesn't feel he should.
Maybe he has a moment where he forgets that he is free and thinks Cazador will take you away when its over.
Maybe he is tired. Tired of of hiding behind the hypersexual avatar he as played for centuries. Tired of putting himself in situations where he is a thing to be used to get what he needs. Tired of being a gateway of death. Tired of connecting to nothing.
It could be a number of things. Who really knows.
But then you nod. And the game is back on. His normal is returning and he feels like he is in familiar territory again.
"I thought so."
But I think he already has a feeling this is going to be different. Or at least, lets himself hope that it will be. Someone who is thoughtful enough to ask how they can meet your needs surely won't be the same as those who didn't give a damn.
The morning after and we claim to notice that he was disassociating at times.
"Shit, they noticed!"
He probably has not had to worry about hiding the fact that he was disassociating. But then here you are caring about his comfort during the deed that he got caught. He wasn't expecting that. And is quick to admit, because he can't deny it, and quick to excuse it. But even if he did space out form time to time, it wasn't all the time.
"That night was special to me. I've been on my back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them. But you, you I'll remember."
He literally says he didn't disassociate as much with you as he would have others. Given it was default mode for him during sex, I like to think he fought to stay present with you as best he could.
But you, you are a complication.
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Me watching my Inquisitor walk off with Solas at the end of the game like :) "aw cute ..hey if Mythal hadn't told you to stop would you have murdered her,," (I haven't played the other endings yet).
This!!!
(Obviously, not murdered her personally, but he absolutely had no qualms about doing the ritual once more - knowing the consequences of it.)
Let me preempt this by saying that I wanted there to be a happy/fulfilling ending to Solas and Lavellan. I'm not a blind hater! Just someone who finds it very hard to put my own Lavellan in the place of the 'Lavellan' provided to us in DATV.
The Solas/Lavellan relationship already was kind of iffy (power imbalance, constantly dragging her culture, removing her vallaslin/then dumping her, constantly lying to her, etc...) but DAI did a great job of making you feel sympathetic towards his plight - especially after Trespasser! He woke up in a world so divorced from his own that it was unrecognizable - the people he had done so much for were suffering from the consequences of his actions, justified as they may have been at the time (stopping the evanuris). His actions led to great suffering in the pursuit of preventing even greater suffering.
Even after we learned of his plans in Trespasser, it was very much: "cool motive, still murder."
I felt sympathetic towards Solas and the implication that we could change his mind, given to us in Trespasser, gave me hope that we would be able to convince him of another path. That he could find a place in Thedas as it is now and look to the future. That was why I chose the option to try and get through to Solas, despite knowing that his plan would lead to mass death/terror if it went ahead.
I always expected the Veil to fall at some point, but i was hoping there'd be some more nuance to it than: veil gone, demons everywhere, lots of people die. Well, I was very wrong lmao.
But, if anything, the game made me entirely unsympathetic towards Solas.
The moment he started his ritual he chose the old elven empire over Lavellan - over her family, friends, home, culture, and anything else she may have loved/valued.
And he did this twice.
He chose to pursue lowering the Veil - knowing that thousands would likely die. For all his insistence of 'minimizing the damage' he went in knowing that many more people would die because of his actions. There was no justification of stopping the evanuris this time either - no excuse of not knowing the potential consequences of his actions like the first time.
He chose to begin the ritual that ended up releasing the Elven Gods - knowing full well the risks it entailed.
He killed Varric - whether by accident or not, it was by his hand.
He chose to use blood magic to manipulate Rook into thinking that Varric was alive - puppeting his corpse around in Rook's eyes and putting his words into Varric's mouth.
He chose to manipulate, mold, and guilt Rook into the old 'switcheroo' in his mind palace/regret prison
He chose to 'free' the elven people by bringing down the Veil - regardless of their feelings about it (elven Rook can call him out on this!), never mind the consequences or ramifications of a bunch of people suddenly having their bodily autonomy overwritten by now being magic/having immortality.
He looked at the devastation caused the by the Gods and still went ahead with trying to bring down the veil again.
These are the thing he does in-game - not even mentioning making the dwarves/titans tranquil, creating the blight, started the chain of events that led to SOUTHERN THEDAS BEING DESTROYED, and taking my good gear from Inquisition!
Aside from the 'all lore leads to Solas' reveal just being really dull it also does nothing to help with making me sympathetic to him as a character. The audacity of this man to say: "it was like walking in a world of tranquil" when he fucking lobotomized the dwarves/titans is wild in retrospect.
If he didn't do the ritual at the beginning, if something else went wrong and that resulted in the God's being released, I could understand why a Lavellan would still want to get through to him. It would make sense - she could stop him from doing it again at the end too! You can still have him conflicted and torn between the restoring the past or pursuing the future - but this doesn't happen!
He never chose Lavellan in this game! Hell, it's Mythal who convinces him to stop?!! He owes her nothing! He's learned nothing from this!!! He's only stopped because Mythal 'pardoned/freed' him - once again showing that he values the ancient elves/mythal over her!!!
How impactful would it have been to have him choose Lavellan over Mythal! To show us this! Mythal, who 'crawled through the ages for a reckoning' (which was retconned to her being sad about the elves lmao) telling Solas to go through with the ritual and him touching grass and saying 'no'.
It's something I feel was wildly out of character for him as well - he never came across in DAI as being subservient to Mythal, if anything the ending cutscene gave me the impression they were equals?!
After everything he did in this game - after all we learn about what he did in the past - I had no interest in reasoning/appealing with his ass. None whatsoever. My inquisitor/Lavellan asking if Solas can be reasoned with only made me regret making that choice - perhaps other people's inquisitor's would say that, but mine would not, especially after everything that happened in game.
She came across as delusional: standing on the ruins of a blighted Minrathous, the south blighted to hell, dead all around them, blight tentacles everywhere, a gaping hole in the Fade right next to them:
Lavellan: "I forgive you! All you have to do is stop." Solas: "But I cannot."
Boom! There it is.
At this point it's not romantic, it's just sad! Sad that she's spent 10 years pining after a man who seemed to learn nothing at all from what happened in DAI.
------------------------
There should have been some sort of a dialogue option with Lavellan right before you go into the big fight - she can ask you what you think of Solas, if he's truly regretful for everything that happened, and then you can give her an answer that can 'change' her approach to Solas in the end - giving the player some agency as to how their Inquisitor would actually respond to this.
Ending One: Bye Bye Bye
Rook: "HE'S A GUY."
alternatively, "Look around you! Look at what Solas has done - what he's threatening to do even now after all of this! You gave him every chance to turn away from this path. So did Varric...and look at what he did!"
Lavellan is bitter/angry with Solas: "It seems we never were people to you after all."
Refers to him as 'Fen'harel' and not Solas - dig the knife in deeper, give us angst!
"Just go. You love the Fade, don't you? Enough to do all this - enough to kill Varric for your pride in a dead world that no longer exists. We were never 'real' to you, were we?"
Solas says his goodbyes, expresses his love, and Lavellan steps back.
Solas leaves voluntarily, his 'situation-ship very much over', to stew in his regrets for the rest of his life.
Ending Two: Bittersweet Goodbye
Rook: "Girl, it's been 10 years."
alternatively, "You loved him once, perhaps you still do even now - after all he's done - but love wasn't enough. Love does not excuse this."
Lavellan is firm with Solas, does not excuse his actions, but has a bitter sweet farewell: "I had hoped…it doesn't matter what I hoped. You made your choice - it wasn't me. It wasn't our friends. It wasn't this world. You can make a choice now - if I ever mattered you. If I, if our friends, were ever real to you."
They can have a final goodbye, a goodbye smooch, and then he can go off to the Fade.
Bittersweet ending - acknowledge what they had and then provide closure.
Ending Three: Happy Ending (?)
Rook: "He didn't mean it babe. He's tots sorry."
alternatively, "He seems to regret what's happened - I've seen his memories, his regrets. He believes this is the only path he has. Perhaps you can convince him to find another."
Default Lavellan ending basically
"There is no fate but the love we share" blah blah blah
As happy an ending as it can be when you have Lavellan fuck off to the Fade - leaving behind her life, friends, family, and whatever remains of the world for an eternity.
I'm being mean but I genuinely wanted a happy/fulfilling ending for them both too - despite the fact that this game seems to want that ending as well, it did little to convince me of that. :(
I genuinely liked Solas in DAI - despite his flaws, I thought his romance was compelling and I was hoping to be able to convince him to change/alter his path. I can see what they were trying to do with him in DATV but it's so hard to feel sympathy for him when we see/know the results of his actions. The story in this game is doing anything but convincing me to give him a 'happy ending'.
'Love' can't excuse what he did and neither would my Lavellan.
Also RIP Sandal's Prophecy about the Fade lmao
#super compelling character#stuck in a very uncompelling story#if you're happy with the ending I'm glad! my Lavellan would have kicked his ass though#hard to feel sorry for a guy who ends up inadvertently nuking the world while planning to do a ritual that will kill thousands#Oops I accidentally pressed the nuclear missile codes instead of the regular missile codes my mistake tee hee#i would have LOVED the chance to try and change his mind btw - I WANTED TO SAVE HIM#Gareth David-Lloyd was the highlight of this game#which makes this all the more depressing#delivered the performance of a lifetime for this trainwreck of a romance ending#DAI Solas is superior change my mind#wasn't reduced to an exposition machine either#my cat stepped on my laptop while writing the post - i copied and pasted his message to u all:#uyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy126qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw5rtt#words of wisdom#datv spoilers#datv critical#bioware critical#dragon age the veilguard#solavellan critical#veilguard critical
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Can you write something special for valentine's day with some Alan Rickman characters and the reader?
Title: A Valentine’s Day Debacle
Summary George planned everything—but his wife completely forgot. The only way to salvage the evening? A very persuasive apology behind closed doors.
Pairing: Sheriff of Nottingham × Fem! Reader
Warnings: None.
Author's Notes: I actually had already planned some short stories for Valentine's Day featuring Alan Rickman’s characters, but they’re just little ones, and I only have a few of them ready. I’m glad you’re excited for them! 😊
By the way, a fun little fact—Valentine's Day is actually celebrated on June 12th here in Brazil, not February 14th! Just a little cultural tidbit for you!
Also read on Ao3
George, the Sheriff of Nottingham, had planned everything down to the last detail.
The moonlit banquet, the extravagant flowers, the velvet-lined box of expensive jewelry that he had personally selected because, despite what people thought, he actually did pay attention to your tastes. He had even—God help him—ordered Scribe to write a Valentine’s Day card.
Not just any card. No, it had to be perfect. Romantic. Poetic. Dramatic.
George had paced his chambers, dictating with all the intensity of a man composing a declaration of war.
"Write this down, Scribe!" he had commanded, hand sweeping through the air theatrically. "My dearest, most maddeningly beautiful wife, the bane of my existence and the only creature on this wretched earth whom I would willingly share my goblet with—"
Scribe had blinked at him, waiting.
"—I offer you my undying devotion, my kingdom, my wealth, and the remaining scraps of my sanity, which you have not yet claimed. I am yours, body and soul, even when you frustrate me to the point of near homicide. Love, your devastatingly handsome husband, Sheriff of Nottingham."
Scribe had hesitated before scratching the quill against the parchment.
"Oh, and add a little heart at the bottom. Women like that nonsense."
The day had been perfect. Flawless.
And yet, as George sat at the extravagant banquet table beneath the moonlit sky, adorned in his finest embroidered tunic, his long black hair perfectly combed, a goblet of his most expensive wine in hand, something was wrong.
You.
You were sitting there, blissfully unaware, smiling over your roasted pheasant as if today were just any other day. As if today wasn’t a momentous occasion orchestrated entirely for your benefit.
And there was something missing. Something glaring.
A gift.
For him.
George's hazel eyes darkened as he watched you happily nibble on your dessert. The audacity.
Clearing his throat, he leaned forward dramatically, placing a hand over his chest as if he were on the verge of collapse. “Wife.”
You hummed, taking another bite. “Yes, husband?”
George inhaled sharply, willing himself to remain calm. “Do you… feel as though you have forgotten something today?”
You frowned, blinking at him. “No? Should I have?”
A vein twitched in George’s forehead.
He set his goblet down with a deliberate clank. “Nothing at all? Not even the slightest inkling?”
You tilted your head, utterly clueless. “George, if this is about me forgetting to sew your shirt, I swear I'll—”
George’s chair scraped violently against the stone floor as he stood.
“It is Valentine’s Day, you oblivious wench!” he bellowed, throwing his arms into the air like an enraged prophet. “The day of love! The one day when a devoted husband—your devoted husband—expects a modicum of recognition for his affections!”
You froze, fork halfway to your mouth. “Oh.”
“Oh? Oh?!” George’s voice cracked with indignation. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?!”
You blinked, your brain struggling to catch up. “… I forgot?”
George clutched his chest, stumbling backward as if mortally wounded. “She forgot!” he wailed, looking up at the heavens. “After all I have done! The flowers! The feast! The poetry!” He turned back to you, wild-eyed. “I had Scribe write a bloody love letter, woman! Do you know how humiliating that was?!”
You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth. “You wrote me a love letter?”
George pointed an accusing finger. “You mock me, but where is my gift, wife? What token of love have you prepared for me?”
You suddenly felt very guilty. In all honesty, you had completely lost track of the date. The days had blurred together, and Valentine’s Day had simply slipped your mind.
George, meanwhile, looked as if he were about to faint from sheer betrayal.
Thinking quickly, you reached across the table, grabbing his hand. “George,” you soothed, squeezing his fingers. “I’m sorry. I truly am. Let me make it up to you.”
George narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How?”
You leaned closer, your voice dropping into a purr. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
For a moment, George seemed torn between sulking and pouncing on you immediately. His hazel eyes flickered with intrigue. “Go on,” he murmured, intrigued despite himself.
You smirked, trailing a hand down his arm. “Well, for starters…”
You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear.
George inhaled sharply, his pout vanishing, his posture shifting into something far more… interested.
“… and then,” you continued, “I’ll—”
George slammed his goblet down so hard that wine sloshed over the rim. “FORGIVEN,” he declared, grabbing your wrist and yanking you up from your seat. “We’re leaving. Now.”
You laughed, stumbling after him. “But the feast—”
“To hell with the feast!” George growled, dragging you toward the castle. “My wife owes me a gift, and I intend to collect.”
As you disappeared inside, Scribe sighed, closing the love letter that George had so painstakingly dictated.
At least someone would appreciate the effort.
With a shrug, he took a sip of abandoned wine and began to read.
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Hello Sunny!! I adore your writings so much, I read (well re-read) all of them during my study breaks and it is such a good pick me after an exhausting day 🥹❤️
Congratulations on your milestone ❤️❤️❤️
One of my favourite works of yours is Archnemesis with Osamu Miya (I love ONE Onigiri Man 😞❤️)
For the event, I take Menu A with strawberry milk and dorayaki and sit next to Osamu Miya ❤️❤️
Have a great day/night ❤️❤️
Archnemesis [part 2]
word count: 771 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.
pairing: 3rd year rival!Osamu x chubby!Reader (feat. The Inferior Twin ™ (affectionate))
genre: fluff, pining, rivals to lovers
warnings: none
request: fluffy, jealous rival Osamu
[part 1] for context
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Osamu was pouting.
Had he or had he not carried you to the infirmary?
Had he or had he not avenged you with those jerks who dared to insult you?
And had he or had he not brought you food in the hospital after his match the next day?!
And now what? It was the semifinals and he was about to go up against Karasuno again and you came to cheer them on?
School allegiances aside, why didn’t you even say Hello to him?
Cheeks stuffed with rice he angrily munched on the onigiri, drawing mildly concerned looks from his team as they sat in a corner of the gym, waiting for their turn to warm up.
Past Suna’s wild hair he had a clear view of you and the rest of the girl’s team sitting and chatting idly with the Karasuno crows. Your arm was in a sling but there was more color in your soft cheeks. He cringed visibly when he heard you laugh loudly. Whatever that libero had just said couldn’t have been that funny.
Another annoyed bite of onigiri followed, finishing the rice ball off.
“I‘m gonna get some water.“, he grumbled as he watched you poke the short guy‘s shoulder.
“We have water here, idiot.“, Atsumu said.
“Going to the bathroom, then. I‘ll be right back.“
Since the upcoming match was highly anticipated, the corridors were fairly empty. Only a few people waited in line at the concession stand or talked to a coach in the lobby. Osamu went over to a water fountain and took a few gulps of cold water, using the back of his hand to dry his mouth. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Hey, Osamu-san.“
His heart set out for a moment before he turned to see you standing a couple of steps behind him. He only now realized that he had never seen you in anything other than volleyball clothes. Your audacity to look this beautiful in a simple shirt and jeans made his blood boil.
“Oh, so yer talkin‘ to me now?“, he sneered, raising a brow and immediately regretting it when you looked down at your shoes.
“Sorry, I didn’t know how to… uhm. I wanted to thank you. For… for what you did.“
“Don‘t mention it.“, he said dismissively, “People might get the wrong idea.“
When you dared to tilt your head in a way that made his heart pound he added, “Can‘t have my team thinkin‘ I‘m fraternizin‘ with the enemy.“
You giggled and a small smile sneaked on his face, too.
The corridors were empty now. It was probably about time to warm up.
“Well…“, you said, your free hand fiddling with a belt loop, “Thank you again and…“
Osamu was fully convinced he was hallucinating when you closed the gap between you and, standing on your tiptoes, gave him a kiss on the cheek.
He was one hundred percent sure that he must have dreamed it until you said, “good luck in the game. I hope you win.“ You looked away and hid a small laugh, “Just don‘t tell the boys I said that.“
Osamu was still too stunned to say anything at all. Bold of you to assume that he would have enough mental capacity left to form any kind of thought, let alone words after what you just did. It was truly diabolical to mess with his head like that - a worthy opponent even when too injured to play.
You turned on your heel and were about to jog off when he gently grabbed your wrist to hold you back. The surprised look in your eyes told him his ambush was successful but… now what? You were so close and - and why did you come closer?! Alarm bells went off in his mind but without meaning to he leaned down, meeting you halfway. Nothing had ever tasted as good as your kiss. His brain completely shut down and he scrunched his eyes shut, cupping your face with one while pulling you further into him by your hip with the other hand.
Your plan was working. There was no way he would be able to concentrate on the game when this was so much more important. You could most likely smell the fry of his brain when you parted your lips to let him slip his tongue between them.
“Samu! Didya get lost on the crapper?“
His brother‘s voice rang loudly through the hallway and Osamu reluctantly let you out of his embrace.
Whatever happened during the match, he’d make sure his rival wouldn‘t get away so easily afterwards.
a/n: thank you so much for your request and your kind words! I’m so grateful that my silly little stories seem to brighten your day a bit and woah, I didn’t think anyone really liked “Archnemesis” 😅 thank you so much! It was one of my favorites to write!
I really hope you enjoy this one, too 🌟
#sunnys school lunches#osamu x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#chubby reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#hq fluff#osamu miya#osamu x reader#miya osamu#osamu#osamu miya x reader#osamu x you#hq osamu#haikyuu osamu#osamu fluff
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Suvi is *by far* my favorite character in WBN. Like I get Ame and her idealism, and I get Eursulon and his passion, the Fox is hilarious and a fantastic foil.
But Suvi. My god Suvi.
I’m on my first relisten and she’s magnificent at every turn.
Children’s adventure and she stays inside. Does as she’s told. Doesn’t go out in the dark. Cleans up the bathroom! Waits. Alone.
She makes it in time—Grandmother Ren calls her my granddaughter and I am slain. Casts identify on the house!
Immediately says yes to helping Ame find the sword. No question. She doesn’t have to. But she does it.
Leaves a coin for the family and helps with the damn laundry! Do you know how practical that is?!
Immediately solves the being stuck problem for Eursulon. Terrifies that horrible little man with a Wild One under his boot. She rescues the music box, no question. Eursulon is free.
And Emliss.
Emliss.
Terrifying.
She ends Emliss, the Chalice, the shadow. The thing that *kills* Ame in a single turn.
The *indignity* of having to pay a hustler (FINLEY) for her mother’s coat lining. Yeah, okay, Eursulon went and made it all right (bet he never pays her back). But Ame talking about payment when she doesn’t even have money?!
Who fights for Suvi? Who defends her? Who thinks of her?
Ame making assumptions about the Citadel. (yes yes we get it institution bad we know what we’re listening to) But come on! Ame has no knowledge at this stage, just judgement!
Will Gallows. The Ace of Wands.
They never get the sword without Suvi in that room. Ice in her veins. Ice.
Who asked for “I’d like to count you among my friends.” Eursulon has the string in his pocket, but Suvi is the one who bargained for it.
Don’t even get me started on the Chantry and Morrow. I’m not doing it.
She gets them SAFE.
Resolves problems and defends her people with confidence and conviction.
She doesn’t deserve that dressing down from Steel. She doesn’t.
And Ame vanishes.
Off to talk to a murderess goddess that would end Port Talon in a heartbeat.
Of course Suvi goes to rescue her. Immediately! NO QUESTION. You think a search party would have found Ame?! With Orima of the Reaching Green as pissed as she was? HA. (but yes she’s thinking of Steel she doesn’t want to let Steel down not again not Steel)
Three days of walking and walking and walking.
(okay but Aabria having Suvi lose it is freaking brilliant and just absolutely incredible role play absolute perfection what a way to lean in)
And then Steel. Again.
Larger than life.
With the yelling. And the power. And the telemet.
Calls her a princess (dismissive) questions her like a prisoner (her adoptive mother really) and knows about the King of Night (suspicious).
And then.
Naram.
The Wild One heeds a call. The Witch arbiters consequences.
Our Wizard saves the godsdamned day.
She doesn’t run when it’s the derrick that’s at stake. She gets it. Even though she’s said awful things (you get what you get what a LINE trap a spirit and you get what you get bet she feels that way about Eursulon she trapped him she deserves it).
Suvi’s brilliance is not about what she says it’s about what she does. Galani mentions Orima and Suvi immediately moves.
Suvi’s quick thinking saves Port Talon.
Actually saves Port Talon.
She’s the one that does it. She’s the one that leads Orima to Naram. The reaching green and its *stranglers* and its indifferent cruelty to those in its way. ON THREE HIT POINTS.
And then Steel has the AUDACITY to act disappointed. (it’s not at Suvi not really but still).
Impossible odds.
Complex character choices and she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. Always thinking, strategizing, anticipating.
SUVI.
Love Suvi.
She makes the right choice. Every time.
#suvirin kedberiket#suvi the wizard#the wizard the witch and the wild one#worlds beyond number#wbn pod#wbn#she feels so goddamn alone with everything she does rescuing people without asking for anything and suffering the consequences#that aching loneliness in the straightness of her spine#that mind that works for her and against her so often and she can’t tell the difference#listen I love all three of them and I could write posts like this about all three but Suvi is my favorite
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Hi!
Thanks for your hard work keeping your system organized! Really helps during my 3AM reading sessions lol.
I was wondering if there are any “and there was only one bed” fanfics for Aziracrow? Thanks!
We have #there was only one bed and #sharing a bed tags, so take a look at those! Here are some more to add...
Away by HopeCoppice (G)
They can command reservations at the Ritz at a moment's notice. They can perform miracles, or the demonic equivalent, for- well, for Somebody's sake. There is absolutely no way that they should ever be able to find themselves in a situation where there is only one bed. And yet.
Welcome to the Petty Party by Mimsynims (E)
Oh fuck. It was him. Crowley tried to make himself smaller where he was sitting in the back of the Greyhound bus. It had been almost a year - and another continent - since he last saw him, but there was no mistaking that blonde fluff of hair or those strong shoulders on the man entering the bus. It was Aziraphale. Fortunately there were very few other passengers, and Aziraphale chose a seat in the middle of the bus, sitting down without spotting Crowley further in the back. Seeing him now catapulted him back in time, to that fateful night in Birmingham - the one and only time they’d met. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves stranded in a motel for the night - sharing a room. Last time they met, they spent the night together. Now they are both - wrongfully - convinced that the other never wanted more than a one night stand. (Basically, this is a "there was only one bed" PWP)
Warmth by HolyCatsAndRabbits (E)
The excitement of spending a day traveling with Crowley had turned to deep embarrassment. Rather than a flight followed by a late dinner somewhere and then a night apart, Aziraphale was cold, wet, hungry, and injured, in the wrong city, and facing a night sharing a room with his secret crush in which there was only one bed. And— Aziraphale looked down at what he was holding. Flannel pajamas, tartan ones. He was going to have to go back out there and face the ever-elegant Crowley in his night clothes.
No Such Thing As An Omen by FeralTuxedo (E)
On a snowy New Year’s Eve, rock star Anthony Crowley arrives at Tadfield Manor Hotel to check into his room. Under a fake name, naturally. But to his dismay, it has already been claimed, and the deceptively angelic impostor with the audacity to have stolen Crowley’s alias as well as his room doesn’t appear to want to vacate it any time soon.
Romancing The Tome by Anti_kate (E)
Romance novelist Aziraphale Wilder is pulled from his carefully ordered life when his sister is kidnapped and held to ransom. With the help of antiquities forger Anthony J Crowley, he braves the wilds of Scotland to rescue her and keep a priceless book from falling into the hands of dangerous book thieves.
Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth (E)
“Then you’ll just have to come back with me," Aziraphale said. “You what?” “You’ll have to come and isolate with me, at my cottage.” The thing about messing with people, Crowley thought, was that sometimes, they genuinely surprised you. After both being exposed to coronavirus, total strangers Crowley and Aziraphale are forced to wait out their isolation together. A tale of soft winter romance by the sea.
- Mod D
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show me how. john constantine x fem!reader. smut. angst. make-up sex. unprotected p in v. missionary. doggy. coming inside. poor aftercare. john is an asshole. 2k words.
summery. you just need him to show you that he needs you.
a/n. based on a request! gif credit.
you were staring at him, tears threatening to fill your eyes as he once again chose you over a job. you don’t even remember the last time the two of you were actually together, spent time together.
at the start of your relationship, he was always away during daylight hours, returning past sunset and devoting his evenings to you. and you didn’t mind. you knew the nature of his job, and still decided to be with him. but then it progressed into being away for almost twenty-four hours every other day. soon it turned into not seeing him for weeks on end.
and yet you didn’t leave. how could you? you knew he was busy….had lives to save. he wasn’t just out having fun, it was dangerous as well. how could you ever be mad at him for helping people?
but as bad as you felt, your emotions overruled the guilt inside, deciding to finally confront him the next time he was around.
and today was that day.
he was home for only five minutes before he opened his bag and filled it up with some occult stuff — half of which you had no idea what was used for — getting ready to drive off and deal with another of his demonic cases.
your heart ached how he simply greeted you without even a kiss or a hug like you two were some good old pals. it was getting out of control.
“are you leaving again?”you questioned firmly, knowing the answer that was about to come, yet deciding to ask it anyway.
“yes,” he replied dryly, not even bothering to look at where you were seated on bed. “i have stuff to deal with.”
you were holding you tears back, trying so hard to make your voice appear normal, like you weren’t at the edge of a breakdown, “can’t you take a day off?”
“no,” his eyes looked for a tool he needed, entirely engulfed in his doings as if you weren’t even there.
“please, i ju-”
“did you not hear what i just said?” he cut you off harshly, locking eyes with you for the first time, annoyance dripping from his tone.
you sighed, getting off from the bed as he continued his actions, moving to the wardrobe to withdraw a small suitcase. you opened up your drawers and started stuffing your piles of clothes into the bag, silent tears covering your cheeks.
it all reminded you of the dramatic characters from movies and you felt like a petulant child trying to run off after every minor disagreement.
except you two were adults, and it was anything but a minor issue.
constantine stopped in his tracks, side eyeing you with confusion as he registered your actions, blowing out a breath from his nose. “what are you doing?”
“leaving,” you whispered back quickly, the word ready on the tip of your tongue waiting to be finally said out loud, and you didn’t elaborate further.
he eyed you for a moment, putting the items from his hands down, closing the distance a bit. “what is that supposed to mean?”
“what does it matter to you, john? i could have left weeks ago, and you wouldn’t even notice, you uttered, increasing the speed of your movements, matching the speed of the tears falling from your eyes.
he walked to stand next to you, his angry eyes soaking in your figure, “what are you even talking about? hey- put that down.” he half yelled, jerking the clothes out of your hands.
you finally stopped and looked up at him, watching as his pupils were scanning every mimic on your face.
there was so much you wanted to say, yell — shout. but the anger was running so wild in your veins, you didn’t even know where to begin, how to speak up.
“are you out of your mind?” he looked you up and down, like he was trying to find something on you that would prove his conviction that you were somehow insane.
“what?” you laughed in disbelief, “you have the audacity to call me crazy? when i see you twice a month? for fifteen fuckin’ minutes?” you poked his chest with your pointer finger, voice getting an octave higher by each word.
he didn’t match your energy, staying collected with the lack of reaction, which made you all more frustrated. “calm down, and you are not going anywhere,” he argued back.
“why? so i can stay here and watch how you choose those fuckin’ demons over me again and again?” you gritted your teeth, your hands reaching to the remaining pile of clothes, hiccuping and sniffing back, your entire face wet and most definitely red — a total fucking mess.
his hands stretched and gripped your wrists, moving your body away from the suitcase and straightening it, trapping your hands against your chest. “don’t act like a child right now. i can’t stay here and babysit you all day.”
his words cut right through whatever hope you still had. you were frustrated, and sad, and tired. and so utterly disappointed. “with no one here you won’t have to worry about babysitting,” you spat back.
he softened his grasp on your wrists for a second and you quickly used that opportunity to zip up your bag and march past him to the front door, deliberately putting on your shoes and tying the laces as slow as you can to prolong the moment, giving him time to apologize.
but constantine didn’t know the existence of that word, and you were well aware of that.
yes but was he letting you go this easily? was he not gonna fight? perhaps you were right to leave.
you sighed in defeat, twisting the door knob and peeking it open for an inch before a hand slapped it shut from behind.
you turned around, not having a time to protest as his lips crashed into yours, his hands flying to your waist as he kissed you hungrily.
you were entranced for a second as your mind went dizzy, returning back the kiss before some sense was slapped right back into you, your hands pushing him away harshly. the two of you silently stared at one another, breathing heavily, your own face flushed, chest heaving under his gaze. you felt fresh tears staining your cheeks before your hands gripped his black suit and guided him back to you, connecting your lips with his again.
it wasn’t passionate — all teeth and roughness, frustration. he switched his palms from your hips to the back of your thighs, making you jump a little and cross your legs around his torso.
he carried you to bed, putting you down on the soft mattress, getting rid of your pants before his hands roamed back to your shirt, breaking the kiss to remove your top over your head.
you unbuttoned his white shirt, throwing it away from his body as your hands felt the toned muscles of his chest. he planted rough but needy kisses all along from your jaw to your neck, sucking on the soft flesh while his fingers were unclasping your bra.
you whined into the sensation, gripping on his dark messy hair, feeling his wet lips suddenly trailing slow kisses in between the valley of your nude breasts. “don’t be so difficult,” he whispered against your skin, “you are important to me.”
you stayed silent for a moment, closing your eyes not to cry all over again. you broke all the records today. you knew he wasn’t the most affectionate person, but you still needed something to prove you he cared. “what would i know?”
he looked up at you, his face dangerously close to the only piece of material left covering your body. “you do.”
with that constantine-like “assurance,” he trailed his fingers down to your abdomen, removing the fabric from your thighs before his hands found their way back.
you inhaled a soft gasp when he started playing with your clit, rubbing it softly and pinching it in between his fingers.
he captured you in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth when you felt a finger being pushed inside of you.
he swallowed your moans, you hands firm on the back of his neck, keeping him close to you as he added the second one, thrusting them in and out in a steady rhythm.
you felt him curling his fingers inside, pressing on your inner walls in a way that felt so good while his thumb simultaneously continued playing with your clit, making you clench around him. that bubble was about to explode as you struggled to keep your legs open when he retrieved his hands from you, your dissatisfied whines reaching his ears.
was he denying you an orgasm as a way of punishing you? perhaps. and you wanted to shower him with strings of curses, but decided there was a more brutal way.
“tell me you love me,” you demanded, breaking the kiss and staring up at him as he leaned back, his dark eyes staying on yours.
you suddenly felt him rubbing his length on your entrance to collect your wetness as a lube, not even noticing when he got rid of clothes. “tell me-” he cut you off as he slammed in, not letting you get used to his size before he pulled out completely, forging back again.
you mewled at the contact, throwing your back and closing your eyes to ease the uncomfortable sense of fullness.
he grunted at your tightness, continuing his assault as you felt the pleasure finally cursing through you, greedily sucking in his cock and wanting more. “say it,” you tried again, mentally begging him to just say those three words.
instead, he shoved his fingers into your mouth, shutting you out as you tasted yourself on him from when he was inside you with his digits just moments ago. his mouth latched into your nipple, swirling his hot tongue around then sucking and repeating it over again, altering between your breasts.
your nails scratched his back harshly, leaving red marks that you knew definitely hurt but you needed to do something at the intense amount of pleasure you felt. and you also needed to hurt just a bit — at least physically — for being so cruel to you.
he groaned at the pain coursing through his back, altering his movements and moving through your walls with a new pace, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly, your moans reminding a broken record.
you felt your orgasm approaching, that familiar tickle making you lightheaded. he gently pressed his palm over your pubic bone, his other hand latching back on your clit to massage it.
you cried out loud as the ecstasy washed over you, your back arching from the mattress underneath, your clenching walls tightening around him so much that he choked on his grunts, quickly manhandling your body around.
with your face buried in the mattress and ass up in the air, he slammed into you from a deeper angle. his hands definitely left bruises from how hard he was holding onto your hips, but you were also sure that you physically couldn’t hold yourself in place from how his dick was balls deep inside you. “don’t even dare to leave me,” his vulnerable but harsh voice brought you back to reality. “i need you.”
in your fucked out haze you didn’t truly register what he was saying, but at that point you would agree with just anything.
follow directly after his words, his groans echoing in the room and you felt the hot streaks of cum being shot into you, you limp body clinging to the white sheets.
still buried in you, he lowered his head to your spine, his sticky forehead connecting itself with your skin, his hot breath fanning just above your ass.
after steading back his breathing, he slowly pulled out of you with a squelching sound and a hot liquid running down your thigh, and you almost whined at how empty you felt.
he laid on his back, gently moving you against him as you cling to his body, practically laying on top of him. his fingers gently ran against your hair and you could feel the soreness of your muscles and the headache from all the crying enveloping you in a much needed sleep — hoping the former would catch up sooner.
with your eyelids fluttering shut and mind crossing the state of consciousness, you felt a barely audible “i love you” being whispered against your ear.
# john constantine masterlist | main m.list | join the taglist
#booooo who would want an emotionally unavailable man 👎🏼👎🏼👎🏼 (me)#john constantine x you#john constantine x reader#john constantine smut#john constantine fanfiction#constantine 2005#john constantine keanu reeves#feinv—jc#john constantine fluff#john constantine imagine#constantine x reader#dc constantine#john constantine#john constantine masterlist#constantine 2005 fanfiction#keanu reeves x reader
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ding!
gojo rips his phone from his pocket, eager to check what one of his favorite two people have sent him this time. he knows it’s either you or geto because, honestly, everyone else is on mute. besides megumi and shoko, but megumi rarely texts him first as is and shoko’s notifications have a vibration with no actual ringtone, so it has to be from one of you two.
my stinky suguru 😈🖤🤢: 1 attachment
my stinky suguru 😈🖤🤢: lmaooooo
already he can tell alcohol has something to do with this because geto would never text in such a way, otherwise. gojo unlocks his phone with swiftness. that ‘1 attachment’ is calling his name, and he’s just wandering around after finishing his mission, anyway, so not like he has anything better to do.
through the shaky thumbnail of the video, gojo can just make out details of you three’s shared bedroom, the dark bedsheets and the computer desk off to the side.
he hits ‘play’ button and mashes the volume button. a song (one you let them listen to a few days prior) blares from his speakers to break through the quiet night air. his mouth falls open as the video plays, and it’s geto recording you both through the tall mirror in the room. you, standing over him with arms around his neck, looking back as you bounce and shake your ass in beat to the song. the camera quality is shit because geto, and you if your lively giggles are any indication, are drunk and your wild movements don’t help the situation. but though the video is unstable, gojo seems to make out enough details for his dick to get hard and his brain to go haywire.
he is shocked. gojo’s never witnessed a betrayal quite like this one. i mean, the audacity for you to choose the one day he was going to be busy to get wasted and do what he’s been borderline begging for from you for months? it’s like you planned this, surely you were hellbent on making him suffer. and suffer he was, for the next few seconds anyway before he promptly warped right into the middle of your guys’ apartment to join in on your drunk escapades.
tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis :3c
#song stuck in my head and also ‘shake ass’ worthy#so part 346 of satoru being deprived of you bouncing ass on him 🫶🏾#satosugu x reader#satosugu drabble#satosugu x reader drabble#x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader#SoundCloud
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