#after hearing with and interacting with others its like is it even worth it if ill still turn to my imagination...! like will it ever be

[skunkes]

was abt to make a silly post about how at this point i barter with the universe for a bf like "please id take care of him and walk him and dress him up", like a child begging for a pet, and then i think abt how as much as i want an actual pet I don't think im fit to ever have one of those either

[pseudowho]

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Nanami Kento glory hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Corporate!Nanami (before return to sorcery), falling in love with a stranger, hand jobs, blowjobs, fingering, excessive cum, creampie, anonymous PiV sex, tiny bit angsty if you squint

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"How much do they pay you here?" A deep voice, smooth, but rusted with whiskey and smoke.

Your eyebrows raised spontaneously; kneeling down behind your black screen and hole, you didn't necessarily expect the small-talk with your clients to be romantic, but such business-like enquiries did not suit the tone, either.

Regardless, you would accept almost any pay, to find somewhere clear of the monsters that plagued you; the monsters that had chased you from job after job after job. None had followed you here tonight, it seemed, so you answered, trying to sound light-hearted.

"About industry average, I think."

A huff, the man's voice now bitter; "After they skim the majority off for themselves after your hard work, though."

You shrugged, as if he could see. He hadn't even begun to hook his cock out yet, so all you could see was a pair of lean, long legs in a black pinstripe suit. You found yourself tickled by your interaction beginning with anti-Capitalist outrage, and you quipped.

"Great pension plan, though."

"I somehow doubt that."

You laughed, musical and sweet, and were satisfied to hear another huff, the barest hint of laughter from your stranger, before his voice toned lower, his words for your ears and yours alone.

"Well...though I'm sure you deserve better than this place, I'll make it worth your while. I have to get back to work, and I'm sure you have bills to pay."

Beautifully veined, thick, long hands had begun to undo his belt, and you felt a strange thrill of excitement that you didn't feel with the other men. He sighed, unzipping, hooking out a long, thick, pretty cock that looked painfully hard and weeping pre-cum.

"I can't concentrate like this, I'll just...get this poison out and then I can focus."

He sounded almost apologetic, his words dripping with loathing in a way that made you frown. You reached one finger out through your hole, beckoning, tender as you whispered.

"Well, I can help with that."

Your stranger had grasped his cock to direct it through your glory hole, but hesitated at your tone, as if the tenderness you gave him was an odd specimen, requiring examination before he could accept it.

The tip of his cock, pink and full, nudged against your cheek and nose as it pressed through the hole. You heard your suited stranger hiss and shudder. You couldn't help but be impressed by your stranger's size, spitting onto the tip before beginning to stroke him in long, languid, practiced strokes.

"How do you hide this beast when you get a boner at work--"

A huff again, almost amused, drawing out into a ragged, needy groan. His fingertips pressed on the board on the other side, white-knuckled, his voice straining as he tried to speak past the pleasure of your pumping hand.

"--sit-- sit at my desk...hoping it'll go away-- fuck, you're good...just help me, please...pay you well, just-- just get it out and I'll head back--"

Your suited man groaned again, deep and fractured as your hand picked up its pace. When you spat on his tip again, your lips ghosting against him, he bucked involuntarily, cursing and apologising under his breath. When you drew the flat of your tongue across his slit to taste the salty pre-cum there, he almost whimpered with divine agony.

You felt a squirm of pleasure in your belly, sure that his beautiful voice alone could form the soundtrack you could orgasm to, night after night.

"You sound like you should have a girlfriend to help you with this." You bit your lip, satisfied to hear how his cool, bored tone had broken into something altogether more desperate.

"--sh-shit, u-ungh...any woman deserves better...better than anything I can offer-- f-fuck, I'm close already--"

You felt it; his balls were too big to fit through the hole alongside his cock, and they looked heavy, aching, his body struggling to draw them up as your suited man threatened to spill in your hand after a single flat minute. You whispered to him, soft in a way that offered him an intimacy he was clearly desperately lacking.

"Stop hating yourself when you should be coming in my hand, big guy."

When his knees buckled against your wall at you cuffing the base of his cock with your other hand, making the veins stand proud, you knew he was crumbling.

"--a-agghh fuck-- come too hard if you-- if you keep that up...shit, like a cock ring, I..."

You hoped that when he came, some of his abject self-loathing would pour away, too. His groans were rapidly turning into short little growls, the screen shaking as he bucked into your fist with such desperate force.

"--f-fuck, good girl, perfect...unnnhhh, perfect...shit, I'm...I'm..."

"God, you really do need thi--"

Your voice broke off with a squeak to feel a veritable fountain of cum spurt over your face, stripe after stripe of thick white release spattering over your cheeks, flooding down your hand and chest.

"O-oh-- wow--"

Your mouth dropped open in shock as your suited man grunted and cursed through his orgasm, his balls heavy and twitching, and you tasted a drip of his seed trickle down your nose and onto your tongue. Musty, sweet; nothing like its thickness would suggest.

His cock twitched for what seemed like an eternity in your hand, as you stroked him down from his peak, so covered in cum that you considered you may have to call it a night to go home and shower. As his groans faded, his voice ragged, you felt the guilt and shame radiate off him in waves.

"Shit, that was...ugh, I'm sorry. It's disgusting, I'm sure."

"It's absolutely not. I'm just...wow. Do you always come that much?"

A pause, guilty again as his voice rumbled; "...yes."

You laughed, and his cock twitched in your hand. He chuckled, warm and gravelly, when you pressed a cleaning wipe out through the hole.

"See you soon?" You asked, strangely hopeful.

"Not soon enough." He answered, soft in a way that surprised himself. His voice dropped an octave as a roll of bills pressed through the hole to you. "Here...keep it quiet. They're taking advantage of you."

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You were prepared, the second time your suited stranger visited. Having required an early finish and a shower two nights before, covered with an obscene amount of cum, you blushed to recall that you brought your vibrator to the shower with you, climaxing against the wall to the memory of his velvety voice.

You hoped he couldn't hear the faint buzzing between your legs on your side of the wall. You squirmed, muffling a moan around his cock head as you prepped him, your lips stretched and glossy with pre-cum.

"-h-haaaah, god, you...you're wasted here-- feel so pathetic-- no stamina with...with a mouth like that around me-- o-oohhh...fuck..."

You released him with a wet little pop, feeling your own pleasure building with the insistent buzz against your aching clit. He seemed just as happy to have your hand, and you admired the little neat trail of honey-blond pubes at the base of your fist as he fucked into it.

"Yeah, well...you're wasted too, at that company, by the sounds of it."

"Mmm...feels like what I deserve--"

You cut him off with a tongue to the underside of his cock, his voice fracturing into growled curses and hungry moans again.

"I already told you, if you talk about yourself like that again, I'll make you come faster--"

A breathless, rumbling laugh; "You're a monster."

You whispered, your breath ghosting against his cock head just enough to make him shudder; "Plenty of monsters in this world, beautiful man...but not me."

Your suited man stopped arguing with you, losing himself instead in the way your mouth, hot and suckling and eager, drew him in deeper with every bob of your head. The gasping, husky cry he made when his tip curved round the back of your throat, sent a burst of pleasure through you that had you humping your vibrator involuntarily.

Between his gasps, his vision fizzling with pleasure, you heard him hesitate, his voice barely above a whisper; "What's...that buzzing noise, I-- do you have...back there, are you--"

Barely pulling back, approaching the climax you tried to muffle as you pumped his base with your hand, you moaned, sweet and sinful around his cock head; "B-brought my vibrator...hope you don't mind--"

"Oh-- fuck-- FUCK--"

You squeaked, your orgasm muffled by the cum that flooded your mouth and tongue. As your pleasure threatened to make you convulse, you pushed forwards instead to take the rest of what he offered down your throat, and you lost sight and sound for an indeterminate amount of time, blinded and deafened by thigh-trembling ecstasy.

Swallowing, gasping, and fumbling a hand in your underwear to pull the vibrator off your overstimulated clit, you babbled at him, apologetic.

"S-sorry, hard to--to get guys off sometimes-- without a bit of a hit myself--"

"Fuck, don't talk about other guys when you just came with my cock down your throat."

You giggled, breathless, hearing your suited man pant as he came down from his high. When he removed his cock from the hole, a long, beautifully crafted thumb and forefinger reached hesitantly through instead, and gently pinched your chin.

You pressed a lingering, affectionate kiss to the pad of his thumb as it swiped over your lower lip, and you felt your heart thud to hear such a delighted, satisfied hum from him. He opened the palm of his hand, surreptitious, and your stomach twisted to see an even thicker roll of bills than before.

"...you don't...don't have to--"

"I want to, I...I meant it when I said you're wasted here. They're monsters. Animals."

You took the money with a heavy heart, pressing another kiss to his palm, and leaving your whispers there with it;

"Scarier monsters than them in the world."

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A black dog hunted your suited man, the next time he came to you. You felt it snapping at his heels, and when your stranger approached, it was to sit with his back against your wall, instead. You saw the briefest flash of a thick, corded neck, broad shoulders, a neat blond undercut. He was quiet for a few minutes, before you spoke, soft.

"...hey, you. I missed you last night."

He scoffed as if he didn't believe you, and you reached a hand through, poking him briskly on the shoulder.

"I mean it." Another pause, and you swallowed. "Do you...did you want to...?"

"I...I just want to talk. I'll still pay."

"I'd talk to you for free."

A further silence from him, your warmth a balm for his fractious self-loathing. His next words hung heavy with the weight of the world.

"When will we rest, do you think? When will it end?"

Your eyelids fluttered, looking down in thought. Your fingers stroked over the pad of his suited shoulder. You thought of how you'd been late to your gloryhole, that evening, your usual path blocked by some stop-motion atrocity, an eldritch horror only you could see, and you swallowed hard.

"...I don't know. It doesn't feel like it ever will."

A soft sigh, his voice rich and smoky; "I hesitate to ask what your particular burdens are, to have led you to a pit like this."

You felt tears prickle on your lashes. Taking a deep breath, and tippy-tapping your fingers on his shoulder, you tried to remain upbeat against the rising tide of misery.

"H-hey, it's not all bad. I got to meet you, after all."

"If that's your greatest joy, I pity you."

You winced. Your suited man jumped, when your hand gripped his shoulder with beseeching fervour, his own hand slowly coming up to overlay yours, dwarfing it in his palm. He tensed, unsure. When you spoke it was with the certainty that he needed to understand you.

"Get your tie off, and tie it around your eyes."

He was silent, stunned, his voice brittle as he replied; "...excuse me?"

"Just do it. Blindfold yourself. Then come here."

A moment of hesitation again...then a groan, surely older than he was, as he moved. You heard the silken friction of his tie being undone. You felt the anxious tension radiating off him, and you closed your eyes, eager not to ruin this mystery for yourself.

"Alright...if you insist."

When his voice sounded again, you felt his breath across your lips, inches from each other at the hole in the wall. You raised your hand up, feeling his shudder as your fingertips examined his face as though you were examining a sculpture; and, a sculpture he could have been, with high cheekbones, a thick squared jaw, narrow soft lips. You smiled, your eyes still closed.

"You're too handsome to leave here without a kiss."

Your suited man was silent, but you felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter.

When you finally pressed your lips to his, he moaned with ecstasy, just as he did when you pressed your lips to his erection. Though you took the lead initially, with your lips softly parting his until you could taste him, your permission imbued him with a bravery and confidence he hadn't revealed to you before.

He took charge, and kissed you like a man starved, his evening stubble rasping across your chin, nose against nose. His tongue trailed with a rusty shiver over your lips.

"F-fuck...you taste good...I-- ungh..."

He broke off to you biting his lower lip softly between your teeth, drawing him back in until your lips melded closely enough for you to suckle on the tip of his tongue. He moaned again, desperate and stuttering in his chest. You heard the brush of his palms pressing against the other side of the wall, desperate to cup your face and tilt his kisses down your throat.

Your mingling breaths tasted sweet, so indescribably erotic in its simple intimacy as you pulled away. You fought against the desire to open your eyes, instead biting your own lip, your brow furrowed against your own stupid decision. You whispered, to a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, from your suited man.

"And I'd do that for free, too."

It was the most he had ever paid you, that night, for the simple intimacy of a conversation and a kiss.

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Not a single solitary man visited your gloryhole the next night. You fizzled with worry, as man after man appeared to loiter near you, before choosing someone else; anyone else. It didn't make sense-- even your regulars would be heard mumbling nearby before walking away from you.

You felt a clench of worry; the managers would still pay you, you were sure...but not if it continued.

You felt almost lightheaded with relief and something deeper, when a familiar voice graced your wall near the end of your shift.

"Are you lonely, in there?"

You felt a frisson of joy, and you knelt upright, grinning, your heart fluttering.

"Not anymore."

There was a momentary pause, and you felt the words that your suited stranger wanted to say, stuck, gated by his teeth. Eventually, when he spoke, it was strained, as if fearful of damaging the sprouting intimacy between you both.

"I've...been thinking a lot, recently. About what's fair."

You blinked, unsure, but answered anyway. "Oh?"

"It's not fair that I have to do a worthless job for people I hate, just to earn enough money to retire young. It's not fair that you're here, selling your body to make a living. It's...its not fair that it's only me being pleasured."

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks, feeling him err against what he wanted to say, and he continued.

"I...would like to do something for you. For...for both of us. At the next window."

Oh. The next window. The curtained table, upon which you could lie your lower half, for a man to use the deepest parts of you for his own pleasure. If any other man-- any other man, had asked this if you, you were sure you'd have hated yourself for it. And yet...

"I...I've never done...that."

"I'm...I'm glad, I...I hate myself. For using you, and how other men would use you, and I'd like...to give you better. To treat you as you deserve. God knows, I'd like to tell you to walk away from this shit hole altogether but that's ignorant of me, so I...just for tonight, I--"

"Okay."

You almost clapped your hands over your mouth, your acquiescence so natural that it shocked you. Your suited man seemed surprised, too, and you could almost smell the thudding scent of testosterone from his body as it readied itself for the primal promise of spilling inside your core.

"Yes? You...are you sure?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life, actually. I...I'll come round."

"Fuck, I...I'll be waiting. Nobody else can-- fuck."

You stood on shaky legs, suddenly self-conscious. Arriving at the table, you took a deep, trembling breath, before starting to strip. You heard heavy, pacing footsteps; more mumbling; a snapped, deep, possessive response.

"This one is mine."

You bit your lip, muffling a laugh at your suited man's immediate dismissal. By the skittish footsteps of the rebuffed other man, your suited stranger was not one that other men would choose to fight. You spoke up, your voice smaller than usual.

"Alright, here...here I come."

Reverent silence hung in the air, as fine as spun gold, when you finished moving your bare lower half down the table. Self-conscious, with your hands pressed over your face in blushing mortification, your thighs and knees remained clamped together.

You heard slow, deliberate footsteps towards your body, as if your suited man had forgotten how to walk. His voice spilled forth, full of sighs.

"Exquisite, I...god, I don't deserve this."

You could have cried for him. Sick of his apparent self loathing, you stretched one foot out until your toes pressed against rock solid abs beneath a pressed, twill shirt. You felt another blush rock your system, not expecting your suited man to be quite so buff.

A large, warm hand grasped your foot, stroking up your arch, your ankle, your calf, and settling with a squeeze behind your knee. When his other hand began to mirror the first, both of your knees now bent and pressed together in his grasp, you heard him whisper as he held you.

"I'll cover you," he promised, ragged with need, "with my body, I...I'll keep you hidden. Keep you safe."

"Thank you."

"Do you trust me?"

"One hundred percent."

A pleased rumble. "Good girl."

Softly, tenderly, two great hands stroked up the sides of your thighs, gliding around your hips with his shuddering groan. Your suited man's hands felt like liquid sex, turning every patch of skin he touched into an erogenous zone.

By the time his thumbs had begun to trace up and down, up and down the V shaped creases of your mound, you squirmed in his grasp, heat pooling in your belly. He chuckled, his thumbs stretching up to massage circles on your lower belly, warming you before he filled you.

"Does that feel good?"

"So good," you whispered, struggling to remain bashful with his obvious adoration.

This warm-palmed massage, from belly, to V, to thighs, to hips, and back again, melted you. Your thighs began to part, your code cracked, without you even noticing. When he settled his hips between your thighs, you moaned involuntarily, and felt his mouth, familiar only to your lips, begin to trail kisses along your ribs, your breasts hidden by a thin black curtain.

He appeared to resist temptation, nipping along the marks left by your bra beneath your breasts. Though outwardly calm, his hands grew ever tighter, shockingly strong and needy on your hips, and you could feel how ragged his breaths were against the soft wet suckling marks left by his mouth.

You had never felt so worshipped, and your suited man seemed determined to know you before he buried himself inside you. The only natural response to those strong hands beginning to creep up the inside of your thighs, was to offer him the treasure he sought, by opening your thighs completely to him.

"Please, can I...make you come on my fingers?"

At this point, you'd have to beg him not to stop if you opened your mouth, and instead locked your thighs around his hips so he couldn't escape. That deep chuckle again, this time against your sternum, and he kissed you in reward.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't, I-- o-oooh...my...haaaah..."

His fingers, wet with his spit, had slid between your folds, two of them teasing around your entrance while his thumb circled with blissful ease around your clit.

Utterly unafraid of playing you like an instrument, he massaged your little bud until the noises you made were to his liking. You whimpered to feel the insistent press of his two thick fingers, and his murmured growls, add to the fold.

"Fuck, you're...perfect. Get you ready...or I won't fit...fuck..."

Within seconds, he had found your spongy soft spot, turning your moans guttural, making love to you with his fingers before he took you. Your suited man was certainly no boy, responding to every moan, and every whimper, with the surety needed to take you to orgasm.

Only the tenting press of his cock, harder than ever against your inner thigh, gave away how well he was controlling himself for your sake. Already at the edge, you tumbled into completion when one beautiful, fine boned hand slipped under the curtain to cup your breast, to the tune of his hushed curses.

"Come for me, my love."

As if he hadn't noticed you were already arching, mewling, and fucking yourself down on his fingers, halfway through your peak. He stroked your inner walls as if to comfort you, shushing you, soothing, until your quivering pussy stilled around him. You heard the clink of his belt, your head spinning to remember that the best was still yet to come.

"Beautiful girl...sound so pretty when you come. I...I'll pull out--"

"--don't you dare."

The strangled noise that left him, and the way you felt a spurt of pre-cum spill onto your belly, signalled a farewell to his restraint. You squeaked to feel him bracket two thick, strong arms beneath your thighs, bracing you for the way he was about to take you.

Jolting into place, his cockhead nuzzled between your folds. He appeared to be needing nothing but ragged, shallow thrusts to pleasure himself against your oversensitive clit, his lovely voice speaking as if to himself before notching at your entrance.

"--s-so long, it's been...been so long...worth the wait, for you, though, sh-shit...augh..."

He entered you with one deep, smooth press, shushing you again with a tender grasp, and little shallow rocks to kiss his tip against your cervix. He felt absolutely enormous, squeezing himself into you until every little ridge within you shaped to him, hot and wet. You babbled, your words shooting through him like knives.

"--oh m-my god you feel so good so so good so big-- barely fits, o-ooohh--"

When you gasped with the sudden fullness, one of your hands flew down past the curtain to hold your lower belly, and something in your suited man snapped. He laid one hand over yours, pressing it down hard on your belly, before cursing a half-hearted apology, and taking you with the desperation of a man possessed.

Three strokes, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, sent him roaring into a frenetic pace. Your hand clasping your lower belly had sent him spiralling. If his other hand hadn't held your hip so tightly, you'd have been fucked up the table.

And despite the mind-numbing force of his thrusts, you still, with every scrap of you, knew that he was making love to you, and not just fucking you. It made no difference, in the end, your voice growing in volume until it was nothing more than whimpered, mewling cries, only wishing you could have a name upon your tongue instead.

Stilted with the force of his thrusts, he blessed you with it.

"Say...say my name..."

"I will I will just give it to me gimme your name--"

"Kento--"

"--o-ooohh, f-fuck, Kento, harder--"

The cry that left his chest was visceral, animalistic, wrenched out of him with the same sudden finality as his orgasm. You felt him fold over you, his hands gripping your ribcage, his cock jolting and twitching within you as the heavy, obscenely long ejaculation that you knew so well, filled your pussy instead of your mouth.

"--unh...unh...haah...aaa-aahhh never...never gonna come like that-- e-ever again...that was it, that was the...the one that'll end me-- fuck...darling..."

Your suited man's bucks grew lazy, his torso almost completely blanketing yours, humping away the last vestiges of his orgasm. He stayed nestled within you, unwilling to let you go yet. You reached through the curtain, stroking a hand through his hair, and hearing him purr.

"...Kento, huh?"

He huffed a laugh. "Sorry, I...was that too intimate?"

"That? You're worried that was the intimate part?"

He laughed, rich and deep and genuine, kissing your ribs once more. You heard him reach into his pocket, and you spoke up, immediate.

"I won't let you pay me for that--"

"--I absolutely fucking am--"

"--no you are not--"

After he won the argument, and left with heavy reluctance, your manager pulled you aside with a dirty grin.

"You were popular tonight. How many men? Ten? Twelve?"

You blinked, confused.

"Just...just the one. Right at the end."

Your manager shook his head, turning back to the TV in his grubby little office, his fingers orange with Cheeto dust. Your brain ticked, and whirred...all the mumbling outside your gloryhole. All the murmurs, men almost visiting before moving on...and it clicked with absolute certainty.

Your suited man had guarded your gloryhole all night, paying other men to choose another woman. To choose anyone but you.

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"I worried you wouldn't be here."

You swallowed, sniffling, and settling behind your wall. More terrible monsters had settled around the building, blocking almost every pathway in, and you knew that you'd have abandoned your shift and run home to hide, if not for the hope of hearing your suited man again.

"You're...crying, my love, why are you crying?"

You felt him stiffen against the other side of the wall, at the sound of your sniffle, and his hand automatically reached through to cup your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. You turned your cheek into his palm, holding his hand against you.

Your gaze turned to the doorway...and to the bug-eyed, many-armed, puce coloured spindly monster leaning around it to stare at you.

You shrieked, crashing against your wall in terror. Your suited man took in a sharp breath, and the normal chatter and movement of the room quieted at your cry. Your suited stranger grasped your hand hard to hold you still, and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

"Stop-- oh, fuck, I understand-- your monsters-- can you see that? That thing in the doorway?"

Time slowed. Your jaw dropped. Your voice was thick, quiet, your insanity validated for the first time in your life.

"Kento, you...see it too?"

"Oh fuck. This...this is why you're in this place? Never been able to hold down a job, no? You've never felt safe anywhere?"

You could do nothing but weep into his palm, nodding, and nodding, and nodding. His voice rang, deep and commanding and final.

"I've got you. I...I've got you. You're safe. Just come with me."

"Kento, I can't just walk out--"

"You can. You don't need money. I've got enough. You just need...you just need me. I'll...I'll tell you everything. I'll explain everything."

When your face, tearstained and sniffling, leaned around the edge of your wall, you froze. Kento froze.

The silence was thick with wonderment, already in love before you had even seen each others' faces. But now that you saw him (obscenely handsome, tall, kind-eyed and exhausted), already overwhelmed, a sob bubbled over--

"Oh, god, you're so out of my league--"

A scoff, and adoration burning in his tired, under-shadowed eyes. He held out one hand, rescuing you as you'd rescued him.

"Come. I have some calls to make. You can tell me your name over dinner."

Your feet were numb as Kento walked you past the monster, shielding your fearful gaze with his hand. You ignored the shouts of your managers, half-deaf and stunned. In the chill evening air, his arm that was not around you, reached into his pocket, tapping, before holding a phone to his ear.

"Gojo, it's Nanami...why are you laughing?"

[phagodyke]

man. getting a little sick of being everyones 15th option for everything. when is it my turn to be someone's first choice :^[

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiii how are you? Could i please request a jealousy fic with jason and dick, like how would they react? What would they do about it? I'm sorry its reallyyy cliche, but i love it anyway💕

Hi anon! I’ve been fine, been taking lots of power naps whenever I can, especially after work, but I’ve fine.

Jason’s jealously more or less comes from a place of insecurity.

He fears that one interaction with the right guy/ girl/ whomever would be enough to make you see that there were better options out there than him.

He never doubts your loyalty to him, never. He wasn’t that pathetic. He just didn’t trust everyone else that even looked at you in the same light as he did on the daily, and it was extremely evident when Jason didn’t like the looks of someone; Furrowed brows over narrowed judging eyes, his form practically towering over you protectively as he stares down the person whom he believes might take you from him.

His protectiveness tends to spike up periodically the moment he see the person get a little too close for comfort and he would clench his jaw to prevent himself from saying something he might regret later on; Jason tries to restrain himself for your sake but it was blatantly obvious that he was on the brink of exploding.

So when you both got home Jason didn’t waste any time in letting you know how he felt during the entire interaction after having forced himself to hold his own tongue.

‘Did you find that person attractive?’ He’d ask.

‘No.’ you said. ‘were you jealous?’

‘I thought me staring down the poor bastard was evident enough.’ Jason scoffs and you hugged his waist all the while pressing reassuring kisses at the base of his neck, when his hands reached to hold yours and intertwine your fingers together.

‘I know that you know I love you very much, no one else catches my eye when I have you,’ you reassured as you pressed another kiss to his neck, ‘my beautiful boy, my beautiful jay birdie.’ You added in a whisper as Jason felt the last remnants of jealously fade away into the background with every kiss you gave him.

‘Are you sure you can see yourself being with me? long term I mean.’ He then says as he squeezed your hands in his search of comfort from you and it broke your heart when he didn’t see himself the way you did, but you were more then willing to kiss and cuddle away his troubles if it meant reminding him of his worth.

‘Without question.’ You confidently told him, squeezing his hands. ‘I don’t see myself with anyone else but you because even though you may not think it, you are more then enough and you are not broken, to me you are whole and you are perfect.’ You finished by pressing a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades and resting your head there as you focused on his breathing.

‘Can…can we just forget about all this and just cuddle like any other cliche couples do?’ Jason asked, finding himself feeling a lot better upon hearing you laugh against his back as a smile crossed his face.

‘Sure big guy.’ You replied. ‘We can go cuddle now.’

And with that Jason was quick to pick you up in his arms and carry you off towards the bedroom where you inevitably feel asleep in the other’s arms, happy and content.

Dick wasn’t one to speak up on his emotions much, which was something that he knew he could better work on for the sake of your relationship with him.

He’s seen himself in the mirror. He knows his own appeal very well but physical appearance were secondary to you as it was his personality that won you over in the end. However he knew that beauty was subjective and that one day you might come across someone more physically appealing than him.

He’d act as though nothing was wrong but if you could easily tell something was off by just his stance alone, crossed arms over chest and a look in his eyes, as though he was trying to deduce the person you were trying to have a civil conversation with.

He may stand close to you and put a hand on your waist or throw an arm over your shoulders, pull you into his side and press a kiss to your forehead with a smile plastered across his face, but he wouldn’t say a word in hopes that would be enough to get across to the person that you were very much taken.

Upon arriving home however, Dick acts he wasn’t even remotely jealous to begin with, despite the glaring fact that he very much was.

‘Me? Jealous?’ He asks incredulously but upon seeing your face, he knew that this act of his had long since stopped working the moment you grew the ability to read him.

‘Yes, you were and you weren’t even trying to make it discreet at all.’ You told him as you settled aside your things on the kitchen counter and sighed. ‘I just wish you would talk to me about these things so that we could get this together like couples should.’

Dick frowned as he moved next to you and gently took your hand in his own, caressing it. ‘I know and I’m sorry that I haven’t been more open and honest with you it’s just-‘

‘You find it difficult to do so I know.’ You cut him off, looking him in the eyes. ‘I don’t blame you for that and I never would, you know that but I just wished that you trust me more to speak to me about these things.’ You tell him as you squeezed his hand. ‘I only want to help you.’

Dick kisses your forehead. ‘I know you do and I appreciate it very much.’ He whispered against your skin. ‘I just don’t know what you see in me sometimes, nor do I understand how you could have possibly put up with me as long as you have given how closed off I can be sometimes.’ He adds as he pulls away, his heart weighing heavily in his chest as he awaits your response.

‘I stay with you because I love you stupid.’ You said softly as you bumped his shoulder with your own. ‘And maybe because Hayley is too cute a pup to ever leave.’

‘I had a feeling Hayley was a major factor in you staying.’ Dick laughed. ‘Can’t say I blame you though, she is indeed very cute.’ He adds as he looks over at the staffy, who was very much fast asleep in her little bed in the living room before looking back to you with gentle eyes. ‘But I’m glad that you did stay. I love you too, dummy.’ He utters softly as he nudged you with his shoulder, vowing to himself to do better by you from this day forth.

[thydungeongal]

Neoclassical Geek Revival is a really weird game. While the name would make one think it's some crusty OSR game that is mostly just remixing old ideas that could not be further from the truth. It's a strange game that is in many ways very old school but is more than a simple heartbreaker (mostly because in contrast to the archetypal heartbreakers this game is clearly written with an awareness of movements and games within the hobby besides just D&D).

First of all, it's a game that is particularly interested in its own weird dice and number tricks. Dice can explode. Sometimes you're specifically looking for the maximum of a given die (for an example: if a character is out of combat for maximum of d6 rounds, marked as ?d6, it means it's checked every round by rolling a d6 and on a 6 they are no longer out). There is a dice chain where dice can "increase" or "decrease" in strength, like a d10 becoming a d12 or a d8 becoming a d6. You can INVERT dice, so a d4 becomes a d12 or a d10 becomes a d6. Besides a normal linear progression, some rules utilize a cumulative progression of 1, 3, 6, 10, 15, etc.

Then you start getting into the specifics and things are once again weird: there are classes but instead of picking one class and sticking to it you basically build your character by allocating pieces into the different classes. Level 1 characters start with three pieces of pie. You COULD allocate all three into Warrior, to make a pretty straightforward fighty type, or you might want to mix it up by adding a single piece of Bard into two pieces of Warrior for something not unlike a warlord, kinda. The number of pieces you allocate to a class also ends up affecting a specific modifier, used in a wide variety of conflicts. Warrior adds to Combat, Rogue affects Stealth, Mystic affects Occult, Bard affects Presence, and any pieces allocated to Fool (basically the class that represents someone who survives adventures based on pure luck instead of skill) affect Faith.

This is where you get one of the things that sets the game apart from most OSR games: many old school games are often based around the idea of singleton mechanics and procedures to cover specific situations. NGR rejects this in favor of a single conflict system that then gets applied to situations besides combat! It is literally what some people think of when they hear mechanics for social interaction, i.e. dealing 1d6 rhetorical damage to an opponent's argument to get them to relent, but applied to multiple different situations.

Interestingly, the game does not have hit points: all damage accrues against stats. In an argument "social damage" (called Influence) accrues against a character's Will, and once it exceeds it the character has lost the argument. But characters have a pool called Luck (which you can increase by allocating pieces to Fool) which can be used 1:1 to mitigate damage of all kinds. The game even has tricks for FORCING opponents to spend Luck, as a means to chip at their defences before targeting them with something that REALLY hurts (like insulting an opponent in a physical conflict).

The game also has no list of spells, instead just giving players the systems for making their own spells. Same with monsters in fact.

And sometimes you just get hit with a rule that makes you think "why has no other game ever done this." Like the rule for giving experience in dungeon crawl focused campaigns where each new room explored after the first is worth 10 cumulative XP. So if characters end up exploring five new rooms they get 100 XP (after the first one, 1+2+3+4 times 10).

Anyway it's a neat game, worth looking at and mining ideas from imo.

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ SOUR GRAPES

don't get me wrong, i've never exactly liked you.

ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro

tags. a tiny bit ooc satoru, very light angst, gn!reader, mostly fluff ! / author's note. inspired by the song, sour grapes by lesserafim :3 (also its insane that theyve literally almost debuted two years ago) essentially just feelings in denial kinda!

SATORU is naturally a smooth talker, so he personally believes that he has never actually had a crush on anyone. sometimes he unintentionally flirts with people. one time, a waitress seemed to be super flustered, but all he did was order. (it was his tone of voice, but he's super unaware.. and maybe his stupid, handsome face) so, when suguru and shoko asked him one day if he had a crush on you, he was confused why they would think so. in their perspectives, satoru's tone of voice was softer around you, he wasn't just mindlessly “flirting” with you, his compliments seemed genuine. and to top it off, you are always the first person he looks at when he cracks a joke. satoru himself noticed this but had no idea why he had done this. he also felt his heart race around you. and his face felt hot around you. despite being flirty, he had never actually dated anyone, so the feeling was new to him. maybe a little more convincing from suguru and shoko was all it took for him to realize that he did like you.

YUTA and you are childhood friends, and people often mistake you for a couple. even your friends ship you. yuta nervously laughs and says, “we're practically siblings! we've known each other since we were little.” you on the other hand, feel dejected when he says this, because you maybe kind of had a fat crush on him. truthfully, yuta himself feels that he may have been developing feelings for you over the past few years, but has been terrified to say something because he didn't want to ruin your years worth of friendship over his stupid feelings. he had a nightmare one night that he had confessed to you, and you looked at him with a puzzled face and told him you thought of him more as a brother than anything. he comically woke up sweating and sat right up, thankful that it was just a dream. that whole day, yuta seemed off. seemingly avoiding you, and if he couldn't, it was minimal interaction. after a few days of yuta's odd behavior, you decide to confront him. yuta mindlessly mumbles some random things that you couldn't understand, but towards the end, he suddenly confesses. yuta himself looks surprised at what he said, and he awkwardly says, “oh.. just, uh.. pretend you didn't hear anything if you don't feel the same. it was.. an accident.” you laugh and tell him you have felt the same all these years, and he breathes a sigh of relief. you and yuta went on a date the next day.

SUGURU is typically kind, calm, and gentle with everyone, but with you? he seems to be slightly more snappy and has a cold tone of voice. it's not like he's being rude or mean to you; he just seems irritated. whenever you laugh at one of satoru's jokes, you swear his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and he is loudly sighing. maybe it's because you're annoyingly pretty and your laugh is so cute that he's annoyed. or maybe the fact that he's not the one making you laugh. and don't even get me started when it's just the two of you. awkward silence. you could hear crickets chirping, a pin drop, and the subtle breathing. you have tried multiple times to start a conversation and maybe break this romantic tension, but he has always just dryly responded and kept the conversation one-sided. and this wasn't just a few times; it was daily. every single day, satoru and shoko randomly leave, and you've tried tagging along before to avoid the awkwardness with suguru, but they quickly run off before you get the chance to ask. it was painfully obvious to satoru and shoko that you two had liked each other and hey, maybe if they keep leaving the two of you alone like this, one of you will crack and confess. (spoiler: it was suguru first.)

YUUJI has always thought you were an amazing person. romantically though? he thought otherwise. but, oh boy, one day when he saw you with a guy he had never seen in his life, his mind changed immediately. he quickly thinks to himself, “you're not even dating in the first place. don't get jealous. dontgetjealousdontgetjealous.” yuuji nearly loses it when he sees the guy hug you. he uses every cell in his body to resist running up to the guy and maybe or maybe not swinging at him. after a few eye twitches deep breaths, he starts to walk in your direction as if he were casually passing by and coincidentally ran into you. when he makes eye contact with you, he smiles before saying, “oh, hey y/n! watcha doing here?” while his smile seemed a little forced, you brushed it off. you wave back to him and tell him that you saw a cousin of yours after not seeing him for a few years. relief immediately washed over yuuji, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

MEGUMI is oblivious. his face is clearly flushed, and his words are slightly jumbled whenever he's around you. this became even more clear when one day, yuuji and nobara had interrogated him about why his face is always red around you. which of course, he denied. he simply says, “it was hot out, that's all.” they see right through megumi's “lie.” yuuji and nobara both look at each other before bursting out laughing. “it's literally winter, fushiguro.” megumi rolled his eyes and moved on with his day. (he was secretly praying they didn't make a big deal about it, but he knows damn well they probably did) yuuji and nobara on the other hand, ran to tell you that it was quite literally confirmed that megumi liked you too! after they told you about what they had just witnessed, (mind you, they were speaking fast as hell so it was hard to understand, but you got the general idea) they started dragging you towards megumi's location. they didn't even give you a chance to oblige against it because they couldn't let this chance go to waste! they've been watching the tension between you and megumi for the past few months, and they were sick of it! and oh boy, when you were finally face-to-face with megumi.. it was awkward. like 3 minutes of awkward silence. but, it ended with megumi asking you out, so hey!

inspired by this prompt list <3

[libraryraccoon]

So I got this idea of an Idia Reader who is an overlord (making some high tech prosthetic or another things that Vox himself can’t make easily) and forced to go attend an overlord meeting and imagine the panic attack he would have if Alastor or worse Valentino interacted with them.

Probably locks themselves in a their room for three months after the meeting.

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message of Raccoon : I can just imagine Vox and Idia!Reader being two bestfriends that have rivalry for fun.

Info : Idia!Reader being an overlord in the Vees.

General Headcanon

You were one of the Overlords of the Vees.

But compared to the others, you didn't like the attention.

The recluse of the Vees, that's who you were.

You hated leaving your room, preferring to use your tablet to see/talk with others.

But one day, you were forced to show up at one of the Overlords meetings. Irl.

When you entered the room, all the overlords asked you who you were.

"Who are you ?" -Carmilla.

"The one who almost doxxed all of you. Idia!Reader." -you, already wanting to go back to your room.

It was the first time they saw you, like really saw you. Not through a tablet, but irl.

You sat between Rosie and Alastor, a mistake.

The two kept talking and adding you into the conversation. You wanted to die again.

They were nice and polite, yes, but you didn't like socializing. You preferred solitude and calm to having to socialize.

You regretted having taken this place instead of putting yourself next to Zestial, who is calm and silent.

"Oh ! Did you hear about what Jack did ?" -Rosie.

“No, what did he do ?”-Alastor.

"He fucked his wife's sister, then ate the said sister. His wife found him and then ate Jack." -Idia!Reader.

If there was tea, it would have been perfect.

Carmilla give you a look that can be translated as "Good luck, we're not together."

You will doxx her later as punishment for not helping you.

The meeting was pretty good, except for the moment you had to talk and socialize.

Your social anxiety suffered greatly during this meeting.

When you entered the Vees tower, you wanted to go to your room but the others Vees stopped you.

Valentino and Velvette congratulated you for coming out of your shithole room.

But you know what was the worst ? When Vox saw you, he asked why you had placed yourself next to his enemy, Alastor.

Vox gave you an hour-long lecture on why what you did was wrong.

You just wanted to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of the eternity.

But you couldn't.

Why ? Because Rosie and Alastor have come for you.

Apparently you have become their friends, without your consent.

Once a week you had to go out and spend time with Alastor and/or Rosie.

And you couldn't even run away because the two always know where to find you.

You are gossip friends. I will not accept otherwise.

You have the pass to touch Alastor. You use it to touch his ears because DEER EAR !!

You do the same with his tail, because DEER TAIL !!! (He tries to hide his tail from you)

I headcanon that you have a picture with you, Rosie and Alastor on it.

Let's pretend you were there during the meeting about the angel.

…

Carmilla paid you $3000 (or whatever the money is in hell) for not talking about her killing an angel.

You took the money before telling to Rosie and Alastor everything.

If she ever finds out, you're dead, but don't worry, it was worth it.

I headcanon that your hair (or at least a part of your hair) is made of fire, and that the Vees, Alastor and Rosie want to touch it.

Alastor and Rosie love seeing your hair changing its colors depending on your emotions, it always betrays you and they find it amusing.

Alastor using the Aromantic charm on you to see you get frustrated and see your hair changing its color is canon.

Alastor has already brought you to the Hazbin Hotel..

When I say that you said what you thought out loud and you were brutal with your words, I don't think you realize how much that was-

You were banned from the hotel by Vaggie while Alastor was just watching and laughing.

You felt hurt, betrayed by your friend.

“Oh yeah, that’s how it is now, every man for himself.”

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.

warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!

a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.

also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig

———

There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.

That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.

You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.

You’d waited years just to get here in general.

When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.

But you’re here. At the front.

You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.

A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.

Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.

But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.

Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.

You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.

Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.

“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.

You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.

“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.

Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”

Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.

“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.

“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.

You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”

You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.

“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.

“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.

You could stay in this moment forever.

As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.

You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.

Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.

Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.

Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.

And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”

“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.

Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.

The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.

You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.

You were enamoured by him.

Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.

His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.

“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.

“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.

He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”

You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.

But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.

From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.

But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.

This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.

And then he reads the sign.

‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’

His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.

You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.

“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.

As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.

However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.

He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.

“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”

“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.

Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.

‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.

A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.

“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.

He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.

“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.

“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”

A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”

Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.

You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.

“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.

He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”

You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.

The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.

Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.

“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.

“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.

“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”

And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.

You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.

And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.

But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.

You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.

It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.

To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.

Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”

You blow a kiss back.

And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.

Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.

You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.

Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.

———

Post love on tour depression is a real thing.

There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.

But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.

The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.

And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.

The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.

You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.

You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.

It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”

It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.

That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.

Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.

“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.

He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.

He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.

“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.

You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.

But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.

You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.

“Hi…” You flush profusely.

“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.

Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.

The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.

That are very intensely locked onto yours…

“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”

He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.

“Y/N.” He tuts gently.

“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.

“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.

“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.

Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?

You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.

“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”

“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.

“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.

You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.

He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.

Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.

You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.

Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.

Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.

You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.

You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.

You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”

He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.

“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.

“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.

“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,

“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”

Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”

He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.

In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.

“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.

The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.

“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.

“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”

He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”

“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.

“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.

“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.

“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”

“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.

“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.

“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”

He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.

You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.

Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.

The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.

He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.

Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.

You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.

But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.

You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”

He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”

A friend of his?

“Alright, bye, I love you.”

And just like that the phone hung up.

“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.

“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.

You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.

“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.

It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.

“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”

“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”

As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.

Your brain stalls at his comment.

“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.

“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”

“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.

“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.

You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”

He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”

“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”

You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”

He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.

You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.

“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”

He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.

You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.

“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.

He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.

Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.

You check your phone to see the time.

1:53pm

1 new notification

Unknown Number | :)

So that actually did just happen.

———

To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,

so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?

And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.

———

part two!!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can I request John Constantine fic where the reader is a eldritch or an angel that's known the league for a while or they capture them but John knows them.

I'm a literal whore for that man 👹

John Constantine x Angel male reader

Headcanons

Reader’s bit of a black sheep amongst angels, cuz I feel like Constantine would go great with a bit of a rebel.

its honestly taken me too long to realize that lucifer from the show is the same lucifer as in the DC comics.

You had a bit of a past with John Constantine, with you being a bit of a rulebreaker amongst the angels and all. I mean, you still went to visit your brother Lucifer on the regular, even if you had been told not to.

Michael had scolded you more times than you could count, telling you not to pop in and out of hell as you please just because you want too, or to not just teleport to earth willy-nilly when Lucifer relocated there for a while.

It was at Lucifers club that you met Constantine for the first time. You didn’t really speak to him, but you did see how he seemed to truly get on your older brothers’ nerves, so you already liked him for that alone.

After the blonde Brit left, Lucifer would give you the whole spiel about him, complaining about how many times he had sold his soul, and all the trouble his actions caused in hell, and how much paperwork the blonde gave him.

After that you bump into him in other places. You like to party, you like to fight, you like to be a nuisance. And its not like anybody can stop an angel as powerful as yourself if they wanted. They’re lucky you just like to be annoying by nature and that you aren’t actually evil.

It ends up with you getting mixed up in some of the things Constantine get up too, even if its by accident because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You always just know that Michael is gonna be on your neck when you get back to heaven after each time, but hanging out with John is worth it.

Hes tried to get you drunk so many times, but it never works no matter what kind of stuff he pulls out of his coat. Being angelic doesn’t really allow you to be weakened by something as small as alcohol. But its fun to see him try anyways.

In the eyes of your siblings, even Lucifer, Constantine is a bad influence, and they’ll scold you for spending so much time with a mortal, especially someone as twisted on the ledgers as Constantine. You just always shrug, flutter your wings, and fly off to do whatever it is you do. Being the youngest has its perks, since it means you get away with quite a lot.

It was also this carefree attitude that got you caught and locked up by the league. They hadn’t dealt with many angels before, so in the beginning they think you are something else. Be It a mutant or a spirit.

You could easily escape if you wanted too. Something as weak as a man-made structure wasn’t gonna hold you, but you had been bored for weeks now, so why not see what happens. You do get pretty annoyed when they talk about you like you cant hear them. They don’t know you can hear them, but still.

Zatanna easily spots that you are of divine descent, but just how far up in the hierarchy you are is a bit lost to her, since they still believe you can be captured by human means. This is why they’re forced to call in Constantine, since hes the only one they know who regularly interacts with an angel.

The Brit has a good laugh when he sees you sitting on the floor in a cell pouting, your wings wrapped around you like a cocoon. At this point you just phase out of the cell to flick Constantine in the temple for laughing at you.

John is the one that has to explain that you could have escaped the entire time if you wanted, you were just a dick that got bored easily. The dick comment makes you huff and smack him with your wing.

After all that is cleared up, the two of you go out to drink like usual. I could imagine the league trying to figure out if you’d be willing to help them when times are tough, but to their dismay you just shrug and give a “if I feel like it”.

Constantine will later explain to them in passing, mainly to roast you, that you are the youngest, which means that you aren’t used to real work and can just do whatever you want, cuz all your older siblings baby you.

His chair disappears from right under him for that comment, so the league takes it with a grain of salt. In the end you help out if there really is no other way, since angels shouldn’t interfere with minor issues.

Most of the time on earth you spend with John though, since he matches your wavelength and isn’t freaked out by the whole angel thing.

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 11 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: Hi babes!!!! I’m so happy to be back, I missed writing and interacting with yall 😭 enjoy reading my loves <3

W/C: 3.447

part ten

Jude was everywhere.

Every-fucking-where.

At home, at work, sometimes even at the clubs or bars I visited..

Every corner I turned, every morning I woke up- he had to be standing or sitting closer to my vicinity than I would have ever wanted.

I rub my eyes roughly, trying to get some food into my system before we had to start packing for the Union Berlin game in Germany. The last to secure our spot in the last 16 of the Champions League.

"Can you pass the water?"

I look up, my grumpy state worsened after hearing the annoying pest's voice.

"No.." I reply, deciding to be petty, pushing the water bottle over anyway.

We don't speak for the rest of breakfast, tensions high after having to endure each other's presence for more than a week.

I had never missed my dad's presence this much before, and my patience was running so thin- if I snapped, I wouldn't even be surprised.

I get off my chair when the doorbell rings, getting up quickly to open the door, knowing it would be my package.

I smile at the delivery driver, signing his tablet quickly, before accepting the huge package.

I slam the door closed with my leg, not being able to see where I'm going while I carry the heavy machine inside.

"Let me help.." I hear Jude perk up. I hear the paddling of his house slippers come closer, a sudden warmth grazing against my fingers.

I almost drop the heavy package in surprise, hand slipping away from the cardboard box. Eyes wide when I realize Jude's holding the package with a stable grip and ease. His face hidden behind the box.

"On the counter?" He questions, already turning and walking towards the kitchen island before I can reply.

I hurry behind him, eyes shifting over his form. Muscles protruding due to the work he's putting into placing the box on the counter.

"Thank you.."

The words feel foreign falling from my lips, only because they are directed at someone I never thought I'd simply thank.

He only replies with a small grunt, motioning to the huge box with his head, his hands going up to roll his T-shirt sleeves up.

I avert my gaze from his arms, to the package, quickly grabbing a butter knife from the kitchen cabinet.

I slide the knife through the transparent tape, directing the knife away from myself.

Standing on my tiptoes, a small noise of irritation leaves my mouth when I pull the coffee machine out of its box.

"Really? A coffee machine?" I hear Jude say, his hand reaching over to pull out the folded invoice included in the package.

"A thousand euros?!" He exclaims, looking like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

I grumble, snatching the papers out of his hands.

"I didn't pay, don't you worry.."

I wouldn't be the brightest to buy such an expensive machine with my own money, my salary wasn't exactly that much to splurge like this.

"Oh, daddy's money- got it.." He smirks, folding his arms on his chest. The white T-shirt pressing closer to his torso.

"Last night you came home with those ugly ass sneakers worth five thousand euros- don't even try it.."

I scoff, trying to glaze over the fact that I indirectly called my house, his home.

I grab the instructions of the machine, carrying it over to plug in the socket.

"Do you even know how that thing works?"

"Obviously, I'm not someone who buys seven euro lattes every damn day.."

I fill the water reservoir, inspecting the compartments carefully, then turn the machine on.

"Oh, you're so much better than me for making coffee at home.." He mocks, making me turn around, hand resting on the base of the machine absentmindedly as it warms up.

"How difficult is it for you to- fuck.."

I whip my head around, fingers stinging as hot water pours from the coffee machine. I gasp loudly, pulling my wet hand away from it rapidly.

"What did you do?" I hear Jude exclaim, he snatches my wrist, pulling me towards the sink with haste. He pulls my hand towards the faucet, allowing water to soothe my burning hand.

"Are you ever careful?!" He hisses, gripping my wrist tightly. I look up from the streaming water, confused by how frustrated he looks.

"It's fine, it wasn't that hot.." I mumble, feeling his hold tighten. I begin wiggling my hand out of his, giving him a quizzical look.

"Let go, Jude.." I add, finally getting my hand free from his iron grip.

I hear him sigh as he runs a hand down his face. He stares at me for a moment, then I watch him disappear for a moment, into the bathroom.

I take a deep breath, inspecting any changes in the skin of my fingers. Not noticing anything, I pull my hand away from the faucet. The stinging not as bad as earlier. I turn the water off, ready to walk away and grab a kitchen towel to dry my hand.

"Come here." I hear Jude say, I look up immediately, seeing him sitting at the dining table with a first aid kit. One he'd probably found while snooping around in the bathroom.

I walk over without protest, sitting next to him awkwardly. I hold my hand out, watching him treat my hand.

"It's literally not even that bad-"

"Stop talking." He deadpans, making me raise my brows. He coats my burnt skin with soothing cream, making me wince a couple times.

"Thank you.."

Again, I said it again.

I clear my throat, trying to ignore the heat creeping up to my cheeks, embarrassed by our proximity.

"We should get to packing. We have to leave in a couple hours.”

"Congratulations guys! You’ve all worked so hard.." I praise, hugging each individual player when they walk into the changing room. Patting them on the shoulder proudly.

"Rough game, wasn't it?" I ask Joselu, chuckling at his expression. The man had put his entire heart and soul into the game, giving us two goals- making his POTM title well-deserved.

"I'm so exhausted. You sure you want me for the interview?" He asks, pulling his jacket on.

I nod, motioning to Luis.

"We're ready, when you're ready.."

The interview doesn't take long, and before I knew it, we had all arrived back at our hotel. It had become a small tradition for some of the players and staff to chill in the hotel restaurant after matches, and this night was no exception.

Due to how close our team is, most of us didn't really get dressed up. We had some tea or coffee with small desserts or plates of cut-up fruit.

It was insanely cold in Berlin, obviously due to the season, and the rain wouldn't stop pouring from the sky. The heating was on in the restaurant, accompanied by the cosy fireplace right behind our table.

I check the time in the midst of listening to Federico's story about what he did during his last break. Seems like the rest of the table thinks it's hilarious, because they all burst out in laughter while I'm distracted by my phone.

My eyes water in exhaustion, and I clench my jaw in order to hold a yawn back, not trying to look annoyed or bored.

Waiting for the right timing, I get up, bidding farewell to the team, then I quickly walk into the elevator, pressing the button to my floor.

Arriving in my hotelroom, I jump onto the fluffy, soft bed, sighing in pleasure.

Though, my peace is short-lived when there is a harsh knock on my door.

I grumble, getting up annoyed- stupid enough to open the door without checking or verifying who it is.

It's no one else than Jude, a familiar-looking piece of jewelry in his palm.

"You dropped this earlier." He mutters, holding the gold bracelet out.

I hum, holding my hand out, so he can attach it back to my wrist.

I hear him scoff, smug look on his face as he looks at me, placing the bracelet on my wrist. I don't give him the satisfaction of having my attention- instead I scroll on my phone, refreshing the browser to see if my most recent test results will show up.

"No way!"

I scream, eyes going wide, as I realize I had passed all of my exams, even the one I cried about on the way home.

"What?" Jude asks, confused by the excitement in my eyes and form.

"I passed!" I shove the phone into his face, not even letting him see for a split-second until I pull my phone away and place it on the vanity.

"I passed, Jude!" I squeal again, unconsciously grabbing onto the puzzled guy’s hands. I squeeze his hand, soft skin caressing mine, while I beam with joy. Widest smile on my face as I jump up and down.

"You passed? Even though you were crying at the kitchen table all night long?"

I freeze, stopping myself from jumping again, looking up at him, surprised.

"You saw that?"

"You were making it a little too obvious.."

I scoff, looking down at our intertwined hands, immediately pulling my hand back in embarrassment. Confused about why I let my vulnerability slip so easily.

"Okay, well, you can leave if there is nothing else.." I mutter, unable to ignore the huge, smug smile on his face.

"Goodnight, y/n.." He speaks, stepping back, and I wish I could wipe that smirk off his face.

Maybe even a punch…

"Goodnight, or whatever.." I blurt, slamming the door closed in his face.

"No- don't come in.." y/n slurs, collecting her bag from the dashboard. Vision blurred and disoriented as she fidgets with the car door.

"Are you sure? You're absolutely hammered.." Luis asks, leaning over to open the door for the frazzled girl.

"Yup! All good." She replies, heels killing her feet when she steps out of the car.

"Bye!" She adds, slamming the door a little too hard, earning a yell from her best friend, before she stumbles to the front door of her house.

Nights like these are why she's happy there is a keypad on the door as well, fishing for her keys in this state would be a disaster.

She punches the numbers in quickly, hearing Luis's car drive away when she opens the door and stumbles inside.

It's not as dark inside as she'd imagined, instead, the living room lights are on. The TV blaring with a show she's unfamiliar with.

Throwing her heels off, she makes a beeline towards the couch, slumping against the soft cushions.

"y/n?" She hears a voice say, not bothering to open her eyes, she hums in response.

"You okay?" The Brum accent asks, and instantly a warm hand makes contact with her forehead.

"You're drunk." He says, stating it as a fact, rather than a question.

"I'm not drunk, let me sleep." She replies, shifting on the couch.

"You need to get cleaned up. You reek of alcohol." He urges, hand going to pull her arm up. 

"No!" She replies, gasping when she's lifted up from the couch. Opening her eyes, she clutches onto his shirt, confused by where he's bringing her.

"What are you doing?"

"You wanted to sleep, no?" He mutters cockily, slowly walking up the stairs, strong arms wrapped around her back and thighs.

She makes a small noise in exhaustion, unconsciously placing her head on his broad shoulder. Undeniably, her makeup smudges against the gray fabric of his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much, not even realizing the small grin on his own face as he places her in her bed.

He switches her bedside lamp on, happy he's not missed the bed when placing her on it in the dark.

Stepping back, he pulls the covers over her body, looking around for some specific thing. He steps closer to her vanity, looking for something similar to what his mother used to remove her own makeup.

Jude makes a small noise of satisfaction when he sees a pack of wipes, the English text on it enough to confirm it's the item he's looking for.

He turns around with the pack of wipes, stepping closer to the sleeping girl. He carefully sits on the empty side of her bed, careful not to touch her unnecessarily, grabbing a wipe, and clumsily rubbing the white towel along her face.

His face inches closer to her sleeping one, trying to remove the makeup enough so it won't stain her white pillows. He watches her eyelids and face twitch, causing a soft, fuzzy feeling to creep up into his chest.

His breath hitches when he realizes their proximity. He pulls the makeup-stained wipe away from her face, grabbing a clean one and caressing it on her soft cheek.

When her face is wiped clean, he pulls back, chest thumping with an unwelcome feeling. A soft sigh leaves his plump lips, he runs a hand down his face. Grabbing the edge of her warm blanket, placing it on her, causing her to shift a little in her slumber.

A familiar feeling of déjà vu passes through his senses, a soft grunt coming from the sleeping girl next to him. 

He pauses his movements, eyes roaming on her sleeping face, before he gets up from her bed. Leaving the lamp on as he hurriedly walks out of her room. Accidentally taking the pack of wipes with him, and forgetting to close her door in his sudden hurry.

December in Madrid was something Jude was slowly getting used to. Although nothing could compare to the weather in Birmingham and Dortmund he'd gotten familiar with over the years. 

It’s only hours later, past three in the morning, when he's awoken by pain in his shoulder. It had been bothering him for weeks now, but he was insisting on playing.

Even if it meant that he had to wear a personalized shoulder brace and had to take injections to combat the pain during important games. 

His move to Madrid was no doubt a big one, with the entirety of the football world looking at how the 100 million-euro transfer would start his first season at Real Madrid.

To Jude, even a dislocated shoulder could not hold him back from delivering his best performance. 

Sitting up from the bed he had been calling his own, for the past few weeks, he looks around the dark room. Rain trickling out of the dark clouds and harshly hitting the huge windows of his room. 

Jude gets up from the comfort of the warm bed, pulling his shirt off to check his shoulder. He had been wearing his brace regularly, but sometimes it would be so uncomfortable that he had to take it off in the middle of the night. 

He unbuckles the belt that’s secure on his chest, expensive material soft to the touch as he slides the black brace off carefully. A soft grunt of pain leaves his mouth as he throws it to the other side of the bed. 

Pulling his slippers on and opening the door of his room, he can only see light emitting from y/n's room. Her bedroom door open since he had forgotten to close it earlier. 

He averts his gaze from her room, ready to go downstairs to grab a cup of water. Though, he stops dead in his tracks when he hears noise coming from her room. A soft whimper, accompanied by the rustle of her movements. 

Not another thought runs through his head before he makes a beeline into her room. He walks past her door, her body visibly restless underneath her blanket. He stands next to her bed awkwardly, moving his face closer to inspect the scrunch of her brows, displaying the distress on her face. 

"y/n.." He begins, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He lifts his hand, moving his hand to her cheek, touching it tenderly with his thumb. Trying to rouse her from her sleep. Though, seems like it doesn’t work, especially since her face twitches again. 

"Hey! Wake up.." Jude whisper-shouts, not even realizing or asking himself what he is trying to accomplish. 

"Fucking hell. What am I even trying to do." He curses to himself, moving his hand to her shoulder again. She’s still dressed in her clubbing outfit from last night, causing his hand to make immediate contact with her bare shoulder. 

"Mom.." A sudden whisper leaves her lips, full of raw emotion and sadness. A ragged breath follows, the tremble of her lip visible in the dim light next to them. 

Jude immediately halts all of his movements, his breath hitches in surprise. He had never heard her or others around her utter a single word about her mother. It was always about her father or one of her aunts. 

Jude was never curious about it for some reason. He had many friends whose parents weren’t together or single. Her only having her father in her life, or to the extent he’d seen- wasn’t all that surprising until this very moment. 

"Don't go..." Another whimper, followed by an audible, strangled sob, tears glistening in the corners of her closed eyes. 

He had never felt this confused and helpless before. Feeling his chest tighten, he leans over her body, moving to sit next to her on the bed. With one last shake of her shoulders, he tries to wake her up from her horror-filled dream. 

"y/n!" He shouts this time, voice echoing along with the rainfall outside, his brows furrowed in worry. 

y/n's eyes snap open in shock, mouth falling open, only for her lips to tremble.

Tears fill her eyes, the only thing visible to her: Jude's concerned face. 

Picking up on her sudden shock, his arms snake around her back, allowing her to sit up and breathe. 

"You’re fine, it was just a dream.." He says softly, eyes focused on her face. Instead of his words soothing her, tears start falling down her cheeks, breath unsteady as sobs fall from her lips. 

His eyes widen, her state blind-siding him.

Yes, he had seen her cry once or twice before, but this- this was different. The girl's face was absolutely clad in pain and sadness.

It made his heart and soul shatter, blood running cold at the sight. 

"Hey.. Look at me.." He mutters, hand reaching up to her chin. His fingers graze her skin, gently but firmly lifting her head to make eye contact with her wet eyes. 

She faces him, cheeks and lashes wet from tears. Eyes bloodshot, as her lips tremble uncontrollably. Jude's eyes soften, brows scrunching in more concern. 

"y/n-" He tries to call out to her to further ground her, though a soft gasp leaves his mouth when she practically launches herself into his hold.

Her trembling body pressed against his naked chest, shaky arms wrapped around his back. 

Her forehead collides with his collarbone, to his luck, not against his injured shoulder. His arms fall against his side in bewilderment, mouth falling open for a moment. Only her soft sobs audible next to the raging storm outside. 

Her nails claw against his bare back, not realizing the slight pain she’s causing him through her sheer desperation of wanting to feel safe and grounded. 

Jude can feel his skin burning up. Of course, he had his fair share of subtle or intimate touches with other women. A hug, a kiss- whatever it had been- his body had never gone this rigid before.

He's pulled out of his thoughts by her nonstop sobbing. Getting his courage and shit together, and pushing his shock away- he lifts his hand from his side, sliding his arms around her back, pulling her body flush against his. 

"You're okay. You’re safe..." He mumbles, fingers rubbing her nape soothingly, other hand pressing her face closer against his chest. 

"I'm here, y/n.." The unfamiliar sentence leaves his mouth with a shaky breath, her sobbing continuing all through his sweet words. 

He's absolutely certain, that if she were fully conscious and not crying her heart out- she'd be able to hear the stupid thundering of his heart, maybe it would be even louder than the storm outside. 

He also knows that this feeling has been brewing in his chest like a damn F5 tornado for the past few weeks.

Causing incredible damage to his heartstrings and confusion to his feelings and thoughts...

[createdbytragedy]

LOVE LANGUAGE

Pairing: Lee Minho x reader

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Minho and you loved each other. It was just shown in very different ways

Love had a lot of language. And for Minho, love was so much more than saying the three sacred words. He was a man of few words and he believed actions speak louder than words.

his love was quiet. You will not hear him saying the words on a daily basis but there are subtle things that he says and does that will always remind you that he in fact, loves you very much.

It was pretty obvious. His love was visible in the way he looks at you. Everyone can see how whipped he is for you. Its in the way he stares at you while you go on and on about something. He loves hearing your voice and the way your lips part and how your expression change, they were all mesmerizing to him. You can feel his love when he pulls you closer in the middle of the night, fixing your blanket and sighing against your shoulder in pure bliss. His feelings were poured into the passionate kisses he shared with you. The way his hands snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss. Its in the way he lends you his ear after a long day at work. Making you sit on the counter as he cooks dinner for both of you. He enjoys it. Really. Sometimes, you may feel like you're boring him with your usual rants but he loves it. He might occasionally chuckle or add a few comments in between to let you know he's listening. For him, its moments like this that matters. Or when he lends you his shoulder, either to cry on or just to fall asleep on. If its the former, he'll let you stain his shirt with tears, quietly mumbling comforting words into your ears. Then, he will wipe those tears away, smile at you, telling you its gonna be okay, and that he is always here for you, with you. If its the latter, and suppose you fell asleep during a car ride, he will tilt your head so it was resting on his shoulders and cover you with his jacket. He wouldn't want to wake you up. So, he will just pick you up gently and lay you down on the bed, changing you into your pajamas before slipping in bed with you to wake up next to you and do it all over again. He enjoys home dates and quiet, intimate moments. Like watching a movie together while cuddling or listening to your favorite songs while stargazing. It could be the quiet of the night, when both of you are awake but silent, just enjoying each other's company and he lets you lay on his chest, right where his heartbeat was the loudest and you could hear it beating calmly in a rhythm. Those are moment when he didn't need to say he love you. You could hear it. He let you hear it. But, he also loved the way you show your love to him. It may be quite different from him but he still soak it up with appreciation. Your constant praise and affections still made him smile and make his heart swell with pride. He loved the short messages he gets throughout the day, a wide smile curving up on his lips every time he opens one. He loved the childish keychain you gave him, even though he complained and whined about it, it was hanging on his dufflebag that he brings to the gym. And the smile on your face when you found out was worth all the weird looks from the gym bros. Minho hates crowed places. Or any public areas where he had to interact with other human beings. But when its you, who drags him to the mall and arcade, he can't resist it. Pushing aside his comfort for you. But it was worth it all. After all, you also gave up your hate for cooking to help him in the kitchen, opened your place for the boys to crash whenever they want, and make room for him and his cats in your heart. You dedicated your time listening to his music, supporting his career and trying to learn more about the things he mentioned he's interested in. You made little sacrifices for each other. And even though your love language was different, you both understand it as perfectly as your native language. And that's all that matters. 'Cause at the end of the day, you loved Minho and Minho loved you.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 11

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

A bitter taste in your mouth and the pulsing in your head were cruel reminders of the hangover. You sat on the bed, holding your slightly warm forehead as the room spun gently, flashing disjointed glimpses of the previous night in your mind. All you could recall was asking to stay home alone after having a few drinks with your friends.

A groan escaped your lips as your eyes landed on the grotesque mess of your room—of your house in general. An absurd urge rose to deal with the unpacked boxes still holding your belongings and the suitcases stuffed with clothes.

There was no point in keeping those bags packed as if everything could return to how it was with the snap of a finger. You needed to accept that this was your new life, and there was no use fighting it.

After stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and a toothbrush clinging to the side of your lips, you searched for clothes amid the piles on the floor. Tossing skirts, dresses, pants, and socks into the air, you paused when your fingers brushed against a T-shirt at the bottom of a box. Closing your eyes, you caught its scent—it hadn’t changed. Slipping it on felt like being wrapped in his arms again, if only for a moment.

A few items later, you found a locked wooden box. Glancing around, you spotted pliers among your nail accessories and pressed the tip against the padlock until it popped open. Inside were hundreds of printed photographs—every single one of just the two of you.

It had been so long since you smiled like that. If you didn’t know every detail of his face by heart, you might have thought those weren’t even the two of you in the pictures.

Old napkins with autographs scrawled on them—every one you’d signed for him after bar performances. He’d kept them all. Your fingers traced the messy handwriting you used to have, and a silly smile graced your face.

“So this is what you’ve been wanting back,” you muttered to yourself before putting everything back in the box. “Should’ve burned this crap when I had the chance.”

You had thought that burying the box deep beneath your clothes would also bury the memories that came with it. Ever since he turned his back on you without even hearing what you had to say the night before, you’d tried to think about anything but him.

"Alright, Noah. You did the right thing not listening to me," you grumbled, heading to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste, rinse your mouth, and stare at your reflection in the mirror. “I do everything better on my own anyway.”

Gerard was still a weight in your life, a burden you wanted to cut loose as quickly as possible. But to do that, you needed to act, no matter the cost. Bad Omens had no shadow of new material for the album, which meant more time with him hovering over everyone.

That had to change.

Barefoot, feeling the cold floor beneath you, you walked down the hallway, fingers sliding along the banister, which echoed with that odd, creaky sound. You began pacing back and forth, pen in hand. A kind of anxious energy grew inside your chest, but ideas slipped away like sand through your fingers.

There was nothing. No melody, no line worth keeping. As if nothing inspired you anymore—unless you were high.

The thought was a spark. You knew what you needed to do.

The instant the first line disappeared beneath the swipe of a card, the world transformed. First came the heat, spreading through your body like a controlled wildfire. Then, space seemed to stretch, as though the walls were made of rubber, and your perception opened up like an infinite fan. The world was no longer the same.

Now you could see sounds.

The first sound came from the simple scratch of fingers against a metal surface, a tiny rhythm that echoed and vibrated in your head like thunder. That was all you needed. You sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling paper toward you. A melody began to take shape, hesitant at first, but soon you were sketching each note with precision.

With each new line of powder, the music gained another dimension. The beat in your head morphed into something visceral, something real. I watched you turn into it... The phrase seemed to emerge from somewhere deep inside, and you scrawled it with such force you nearly tore the paper.

Another line. Another phrase.

Every moment you returned from the haze, something new took form:

"This life was all it had to be Designed but not for you and me..."

The lyrics spilled out like a confession, something you might not even have known was there until that moment. Every chord you strummed on the guitar in your living room, every word you breathed out with your cigarette smoke, felt more intimate, more deranged. The riff grew intense, and you let yourself dance alone, fingers gliding over the strings.

The rhythm of the pen against the paper merged with the pounding of your heart and the sway of your hair as the melody gained its identity. It felt as though you were carving out a piece of yourself, tearing it from raw flesh to transform pain into music. The ending came like an explosion.

"The empty husk of a flawed design There is nothing else left inside Within the silence of this illusion Is there anything more than human?"

Slowly, you let go of the pen, leaning your head back, breathless, as sweat dripped down the back of your neck. At that moment, the front doorbell rang. You had a song. This time, a real song, not the trash you had presented at the label. You definitely had a song.

"Anything human..." Jolly seemed to toy with the words that named the song for a moment. You got excited as you gave a quick demonstration, and he looked thrilled with the idea from the start.

“What do you think?” you asked, nodding toward him as you removed the guitar from your lap. “There are some elements that could be interesting to add to the final result, like a slightly more electronic base. You know?”

“It’s a damn great song!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, raising his eyebrows, and your shoulders finally relaxed. “But I’m a little concerned about your creative process…” His eyes swept across the mess in the room before landing back on you. “Okay, we’re way behind on delivering the album, and we don’t have much…”

“We don’t have anything,” you interjected to correct him. “We have nothing yet, and Noah doesn’t seem too worried about it since all he ever does is criticize what I make.”

“But the problem is, every time you get hyped during a creative process, it messes with your head. And I’m no idiot, girl—I know your little tricks to keep yourself inspired. If having a quick album is going to cost me a band member, I’d rather stay at square one!” he warned, pointing his finger at you.

“I can handle it myself, okay? Now let’s get back to the music and the band!”

“It really is a good song.”

“I need you to tell Noah that it was your idea and that you wrote it alone.”

You barely finished the request before Jolly adjusted his posture on the sofa, looking confused.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you know that when he’s sulking about something, he manages to turn it into nothing more than a pile of garbage in his eyes. That’s what he’s been doing with me,” you explained, trying to suppress a smile. “If you say I wrote this song, he’ll definitely discard it, and we’ll be back at square one. And I doubt that, like me, you don’t have your own reasons for wanting this album to be finished already.”

He considered your words for a moment. Reluctant as he was, he had to admit you were right, knowing his friend as well as he did.

“Of course, I’m not going to let him discard a song like this, but even if I go along with your suggestion, I still think it’s a ridiculous idea,” Jolly said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the sheet of paper again to analyze your work. “Did your idea of talking to him not work?”

“He’d rather face the devil in his true form than see me in front of him, Jolly.” Propping yourself up on your hands, you stared at him with a pout. “Noah decided that I don’t exist, not even within the band’s boundaries. It’s like I’m really not there, and that’s fine.”

“Fine?” he asked, tearing his attention from the sheet again.

“I feel like the best thing he can do for himself is stay away from me. We can deal with it, right? But if he thinks I’m going to leave my band because of him and our personal issues just because he’s decided he can keep interfering in my life, he’s dead wrong.”

“You’re so stubborn I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you two were made for each other.”

“You’re wrong. Terribly wrong, Mr. Joakim!”

He clearly didn’t believe your words, judging by the ironic huff and eye roll he gave before returning his attention to the song’s lyrics on the paper.

The studio was enveloped in a comfortable dimness, with faint lights reflecting off the perfectly aligned instruments. The silence preceding rehearsal was almost ceremonial. Noah stood before the microphone, adjusting his headphones while the others exchanged glances, aligning themselves to start.

“Alright, let’s go.” His voice cut through the air with firmness, but there was something in the way he held the stand, in his eyes avoiding direct contact.

The first beat was like a held breath, the bass pulsing gently before the smooth guitar chords emerged, as if asking permission to exist. Noah tilted his head, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the music flow within him before he began to sing.

His voice was hoarse, laden with emotion, every word cutting through the silence like a blade. He held the notes with precision, but there was a controlled desperation, a longing that was impossible to ignore. The others instinctively adjusted, following his lead. The drums entered like a racing heartbeat, while the guitar intensified, driving the music to something more visceral, rawer.

“That was fucking good!” he said with what seemed like the shadow of a smile at the end of the song, giving Jolly a quick handshake. “You nailed it, but I didn’t know you had something in mind; we could’ve worked on it together.”

Jolly’s gaze darted between Noah and you, and after taking a deep breath, he simply shrugged. “I was just as surprised at how quickly this song landed in my lap.”

“With a few adjustments, we’ve hit the tone for the new album. It feels like it’s finally easier to know where we’re heading,” Noah declared, still with his back to you. You rolled your eyes at the sheer amount of obviousness he spouted. From this angle, it was amusing how flustered he got when he wasn’t the first to figure something out.

“I have another idea!” You raised your hand, waving it enthusiastically, the excitement coursing through you undeniable. You shifted your weight back and forth, catching everyone’s attention except his. “Each track’s intro could contain a coded message, like clues to the central story. Since you love being a trailblazer, I thought of using your voice, Noah. What do you think?”

From this distance, you could see his hand clenching the microphone tighter than necessary. He recognized that euphoric tone and the insatiable urge to provoke him—he knew you were high.

“I think it’s a good idea!” Ruffilo chimed in.

“Me too. Actually, I already have an idea for how it could start,” Jolly added, pulling the same thoughtful face he always did when brainstorming.

“I’ve never heard a dumber idea in my entire life,” Noah said softly, placing the mic stand back in its spot, still refusing to look at you. “Don’t tell me you want to burden us with this melancholic nonsense like the last thing you produced?”

“I asked for your opinion on the idea, not your permission,” you retorted sarcastically.

Noah grunted as if hearing you was physically painful.

“You’re right—some projects shouldn’t see the light of day, like that song of yours. But I don’t get why you’re so offended when creating useless things has always been your specialty.” You shrugged, sitting atop the sound output box. “Just look at your desk drawer—how many songs has Bad Omens released, and how many were actually written by me, Jolly, or you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about!” he snapped. “You talk like you’ve done everything by yourself all these years!”

“Guys, I think that’s enough for today, right?” Folio chuckled awkwardly, jumping off the drum set as he noticed Noah tense up.

“The math doesn’t add up, Noah!” you mocked. “So, every time you refer to something I wrote, just open your drawer and count how many of your songs actually made it out of there.”

Silencing him in his moments of arrogance was one of your greatest talents, and nothing satisfied you more than that. “Honestly, Jolly’s voice would work much better for this intro idea. Who’s in favor?”

Your neck stretched as a triumphant smile spread across your face when everyone, except Noah, raised their hands immediately. He glanced at each of them, as if silently promising vengeance, and the sweetness of defeating him was palpable.

“Then it’s settled, folks!” you cheered, clapping your hands with a satisfied grin.

Gradually, your smile faded as he slowly turned around, his expression dark, especially around his eyes. His breathing came in measured scales, as if it was difficult for him, and as his eyes locked with yours, you stood up. You were ready to stand your ground if necessary, but there was no way he’d win this time.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

All the guys said simultaneously. “Man, I’m starving. Catch you later.”

They disappeared in the snap of a finger, leaving her alone with the very reincarnation of the devil in the form of a man. Noah approached with slow steps, and the wind deliberately brought his scent. Even at this reasonable distance, he seemed to emanate enough electricity to make the hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Well, look who broke the little silence game.

“You’re pathetic.”

“That line is mine, hey!” you pointed out.

Another step, and Noah was too close, leaning his body down so they were at the same height. He braced one hand against the wall. You tried to step back, but the speaker right behind you limited your movement, forcing you to step to the side—nothing that stopped him from following you like a bloodhound. If he cultivated a good sense of hearing, he could probably hear how your heart was pounding against your chest from the proximity of your faces.

“Every time I’m talking to you, I want you to look at me,” he ordered, lifting my chin so that my gaze left his sculpted lips and locked onto his blazing eyes. “Congratulations.”

He said in a whisper that churned your stomach.

“I understand that liars have difficulty speaking while looking into someone’s eyes, but in time you’ll learn. Just like you’ve been learning to lie better and better.”

“Do you want me to thank you for the compliment?” you retorted in a biting tone as low as his and almost managed to crack the smirk on his rigid posture if he hadn’t corrected himself in time.

“They might all fall for this ridiculous talk of yours, but I know the song is yours.”

“So you admit you were praising a work done by me?” you asked, reducing the distance between you two. Your tongue moistened your lip as you heard him gasp from the short space between your bodies, and you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingle at the sensation of his eyes analyzing your face. “Still my number one fan, Noah Sebastian?”

He looked feverish, battling between gritting his teeth at your insolence and resisting being so close. Noah took another step forward, planting a single hand on your jaw, and your back collided with the wall, your hair scattering across it.

“Stop,” he growled without much confidence.

His closed eyes brushed the tip of his nose against yours as the compression of your bodies became stronger. You gasped as his leg pressed between yours and the pressure he applied to your jaw while dragging his face along yours was about to make your body explode.

Struggling against his hand and the alternating temperature of your body, you tilted your chin so that your lips came closer together. You could taste the flavor of his lips on yours, always soft and perfectly fitting as if they were made for this. Gently, the moment allowed you to brush against each other slowly, feeling the texture of his sculpted skin that seemed to remain the same after all this time.

But something pulled him out of the trance suddenly, and Noah grabbed your jaw again as he pulled you closer to deliver a message into your ear.

“Don’t seek me out with an intention like this again unless you’re capable of remembering what happened the next day,” he said in a rigid tone as he released you.

Your body cooled so quickly that you guessed you were a little stunned.

“And that shirt is mine. What happened to the story that you’d gotten rid of everything that belonged to me?”

You were furious. After the ecstasy, the excitement, and all the strange things that messed with you whenever you wore this crap, fury was the stage that seemed to linger the longest when it took over your body. Arms crossed, you watched him walk away as if nothing had happened. In fact, he was satisfied with having tied the score.

He had managed to humiliate you.

“Want it back?” you asked and saw him glance over his shoulder.

“Of course I do.”

Nodding and biting your lips, you uncrossed your arms, and without breaking eye contact in his direction, you grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it off completely. Luckily, you were wearing a matching lingerie set, and your sweet smile only deepened as you crumpled the piece and threw it against his wide-eyed face.

“Wait!” he called out, trying to follow as you strutted out of the studio. “Where do you think you’re going like that?”

“Home!” you replied as if it were obvious, shrugging as you stepped through the door.

Outside, the guys were eating, and their jaws dropped, along with slices of pizza from their mouths, as they saw you walking around in nothing but your underwear and boots.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!” Noah roared, trying to keep up. “Get back inside and put some clothes on, now!”

“Or?” you challenged him, the wind sweeping the strands of hair from your face as you walked backward and flipped him off when he didn’t move. “Like I said: You’re pathetic.”

“What are you laughing at?”

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline

[fixfoxnox]

Okay but think about this, the cod boys' reaction to having a Barrack's Bunny with them.

(if you don't know, a Barrack's Bunny is usually a woman, but can also be a man, that sleeps around a lot with their colleagues)

Idk if you want to like do all of the fabfavorites, but I'ld be most interested in how König, Ghost and Keegan would react!!

While we're talking about König, I had a stroke of genius a few days back and decided that König to me looks like Lee Pace, so...yeah, I'm imagining Lee Pace as this man. Lee Pace is also my fc for Johnathan Sanderson but that less important rn also I'm assuming we want romance/spice here so:

COD Boys Reaction to Finding Out Reader is a Barrack's Bunny

Characters: Price, Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Roach, König, and Keegan

Warnings: Possessiveness, NSFW Implied, Minor NSFW, choking (light), mentions of STD's, reader is a barracks bunny (sleeps around essentially)

Price

Price sees you coming out of some new recruits room, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled

He's not an idiot, Price has been around, he's had people like you on teams that he's worked with before

Still, this is the first time he's actually felt tempted

Calls you into his office a week later, after he's done more research and watched you dissappear in and out of different bunks. He had to be sure before he could act.

Sits you down and tells you that he knows what you've been doing

You're in a panic, sure you've been enjoying yourself but its not worth losing your job over

Everything is made even worse to you by the fact that its Price speaking to you about it

Captain of the illustrious Taskforce 141, everyone knows him, everyone knows his skill

You, in particular, know how fucking attractive he is

So while Price is "scolding" you (literally just telling you the dangers of what you're doing) you're trying desperately to pretend you aren't losing your shit and horny as fuck.

Then, at the end, Price is tapping your papers together and tells you he wants you to stop sleeping around with other recruits

He tells you that he wants you to get tested weekly now, to make sure you don't have anything

You ask him in a meek voice why weekly, why weekly if you're supposed to stop?

He leans back in his seat, his eyes practically devouring you as he reminds you

"I said stop sleeping around with the other recruits"

Price gives a much better offer. If you want to fuck around, why not fuck around with his team rather than the typically less than stellar recruits you'd been sleeping with

It's really not much of a question for you

When you accept, you see just a hint of a smirk tug at his lips, not much but enough to have you going warm

If you're warm then, you're sure you'll combust when Price pushes his seat back just enough to motion to the floor in front of his chair, his legs spread

"Go on then, you can start with just your hands until we get everything else sorted."

He doesn't interact much with the new recruits outside of training, but he knows you

Ghost

Ghost learns about what you've been up to from Price

He's seen the way the other recruits flock to you and hang off of you, he knows several of them have crushes

He assumed, however, that you hadn't been giving any of them the time of day, so he's a little shocked to hear what you've actually been up to.

Maybe part of him is a little jealous, but the bigger part of him is excited.

If you're willing to fuck with recruits who barely know how to use their cock, surely you'd have no issue with him.

He waits for Price to talk to you and waits patiently for everything to go through before he makes his move

It's after training and he's just watched you the whole time, anticipation for whats coming

Ghost doesn't indulge often, but when you're so open and he's feeling more than a little desperate, its easier to wait for you outside of the locker room.

As soon as you step out he has you by the arm, pulling you somewhere quiet and secluded

He has you pressed against a wall, a thigh pressed up against you as he gets close.

He makes sure you know that Price has told him what you've been up to

He enjoys the embarrassment that flushes across your face, but doesn't let it last very long as he presses closer

Asks you if you've been satisfied with the recruits you've been fucking with. Asks you if they fuck you the way that you like.

He's right against you now, his entire body pressed against yours so all you can do is shake your head no, feeling flushed from head to toe

"Bad choice going for the recruits, if you're going to sleep around you can at least get something out of it. You want something out of it?"

Let's a hand land temptingly over your crotch as he waits for your response, his intentions are perfectly clear.

He waits for your permission before jumping you, but he certainly makes his point about those recruits

Its not hard for you to say you'll be aiming higher up from that point on

Gaz

Absolutely miffed when he finds out

He probably spends the most time around the recruits, so he definitely knows you

He never would have expected it from you

Never would have known if he hadn't overheard some recruit trying to brag about it

"You're not special, they're a bunny dude. They've had like half the people on our squad."

Has a whole moment™ because he knows he has to tell someone about this, like its part of his thing as a superior to you

But also 😏

Maybe he can handle it on his own

Bides his time, watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to approach

Ends up finding it when he sees one of the recruits yoinking you out of the cafe for a very clear purpose

Hustles through a short cut to be able to cut you guys off

Acts like he has no idea what you guys were about to do

"Oh, there you are. I've been searching up and down for you. Think I can borrow them for a sec?"

You're more than a little confused when Gaz takes you back to his room rather than any meeting room

The lock of the door clicks behind you and the two of you are left alone

Gaz starts with the professional side of things

"I know what you've been doing."

You run cold and rush to explain yourself, but Gaz stops you with a hand raised

"Listen, this can't be good for you, and its against regulation, so I really do need you to stop."

You nod your head rapidly, prepared to literally fall to your knees in thanks for him not ratting you out. That is until he steps into your space

"However, if you're careful, maybe have one person take care of you, maybe it'll be alright."

Your eyes widen and a part of you runs hot as Gaz reached forward to tuck a finger under your chin, guiding you closer with just a light touch.

You're literally helpless against him, unable to do anything but follow as he brings you closer

"I'd be willing to volunteer, if you'd like"

You do end up liking ;)

Soap

Soap barely knows the recruits, he hardly pays attention to them

However he does know you

Soap's had his fair share of flings and his fair share of run ins with Barrack Bunnies before, he knows the type.

And he sees you chatting it up with the recruits and his brain clicks into place immediately

Maybe he doesn't believe at first, but later he sees you sneaking out of someone's room and he knows his instincts were right.

A part of him is really excited

Since joining the 141 he's held out on enjoying any of the more risqué things that people get up to

And he's been a little too busy to actually seek anything out even if he'd wanted to

So to have you show up and fall right into his lap? He plans to take full advantage

Soap knows the game, he knows how this all works. You don't talk about it directly

So he starts by fully introducing himself, giving you his name with a joke and a little bit of flirtation attached to let you know he's interested.

Then comes the talking as he slowly hints at what he wants, what he knows that you do

You pick up on it all pretty quick, after all this is part of what you do

Still, to say you're surprised would be an understatement

A member of the famous taskforce 141 wanting to use you? Sign you tf up

When one of you finally cracks and invites the other back to your room/bunk, its a literal flurry of movement

You're both pretty much ready for this so it makes sense that you're both on the exact same page

Course he takes good care of you and you're more than pleased. He's easily the best you've had

Later when you're laying in bed together Soap tells you:

"As your superior, I am required to tell you that you need to stop this by the way. However as me?? Well, I'll find you again soon."

Roach

Roach is the unlucky one who doesn't realize what you get up to until he happens to walk by the wrong room at the wrong time

He's heading to a meeting with the rest of the team, completely oblivious to any of the people he passes or conversations going on

That is until he turns a corner and passes a room where he can very clearly hear moans echoing from

Stops in place, absolutely shocked because hey that's a fucking broom closet

Sticks around just long enough to hear whoever you're with moan out your name

Then he's scampering off to his meeting, his face red and his mind only focused on what he's heard

Thats when he starts paying more attention and, after walking by yet another one of your rendezvous a few days later, he realizes exactly what's going on

He's a little uncomfortable to be honest

He found you one of the more likable recruits and had been helping you with your weapons tests

He'd taught you how to line up your shots quicker with a sniper and the fastest way to reload a pistol

He'd been rooting for you and you knew it

So a part of him felt uncomfortable because, really, if you needed someone to take care of you, why would you not come to him?

What was so great about all those recruits you were fucking? What was so great about hopping between people?

He probably wouldn't have been so odd about the whole thing if he was one of the people you were seeing

He's a bit distant the next time he helps you, not talking as much and hardly meeting your eyes.

He's touchy though, constantly reaching out to correct your form and brush his fingers over your skin in a way that leaves shivers down your spine

When your session is over, he stops you

"Listen, I'm not going to make a big deal out of this because I don't see whats wrong with it, but if you're going to be with a new guy every night, you need to at least find somewhere better than a broom closet."

You go bright red, stuttering out apologies and excuses about sharing the bunks with others, all while he watches you with soft eyes

"Well, I guess you could always use my room."

You stop stuttering and for a moment you and Roach just stare at each other.

He seems a bit unsure of himself, but after you don't rebuff him, he continues

"But I'm the only person you're allowed to bring back there. How's that sound?"

That sounded just perfect to you.

König

The thing about König is that he's very possessive

Its hard to keep things and have a constant in life when you're in the military, so when König finds something constant that he enjoys, he gets attached

You become a constant in his life after joining KorTac and falling under his command

König likes the people under his command, but he really really likes you

A part of him views you as his already, even when he hasn't quite worked up the courage to tell you yet

It frustrated him more then he could explain

All that confidence on the field, but when it came to something as simple as confessing his feelings and that anxiety from when he was younger would bubble back up

But what frustrated him more was coming to the realization that you'd been bouncing around the various KorTac members practically since you'd joined

Well, the various members minus him

He'd spotted you sneaking off with Conor or Roze one too many times and he wasn't stupid, he could figure out what was going on, even if it had taken him longer than he wanted to admit

He would have to rectify this issue

He calls you to his office, declaring it a matter of utmost importance, of course you believe him

Its easier for him when he can slip into his work mask, using the title of colonel to shield him from his usual anxiety.

"I know what you've been doing."

He calls you on it. Wastes no time in telling you that he knows what you've been up to.

You panic, assuming you were on the chopping block for breaking regulation. Apologies spill from your lips.

König listens to them as he stands up and rounds the desk, getting closer and closer to you with each step.

Finally he leans over you, silencing you with his towering presence

"You should be sorry. The only person you should be pleasuring is me."

You're taken aback completely, but you can't deny the heat that comes with the possession

König makes sure that you understand who it is you'll be taking care of from then on out, all while wiping the remnants of the other members of KorTac away from your skin with his own heated touch

Keegan

It's hard for Keegan to admit that he feels jealous

Usually he's calm and cool about things, always keeping a level head even with a gun pressed to his temple

He knows it and everyone else around him knows it

So its hard to admit when he is losing his cool, especially when he's losing his cool over you enjoying yourself

There are really no regulations anymore. The military is barely a military, held together by a string in a wasteland

So there isn't even anything wrong with what you're doing.

He can't tell you to stop, he'll just look like an ass

So instead he has to sit and watch as you cycle your way through half of the fucking platoon.

It eats him up, drives him crazy

He'd had Hesh make fun of him several times, mocking him for wanting to be one of the people you brought home

Hesh didn't get it, Keegan didn't want to be one of the people, he wanted to be the person!

Since finding out what you'd been up to, it had been hell, and he finally decided that it was time to confront you.

He corners you in one of the weapons tents, has you pressed against some ammo boxes as he asks you what you were doing the night before

You stutter through your answer, a little embarassed to admit to it, even if there was nothing wrong with what you'd done.

Keegan lets you stumble over yourself, enjoying the fool that you make before he just comes out and says it

He's not kind with it, instead he offers a more vulgar explanation and you gape at him, unsure of what to say or do

"No more of that, doll. I'm tired of it."

You go to protest, prepared to point out that he couldn't really stop you

Thats when you've got a leg between your thighs and a hand pressed gently to the base of your throat

"I want you all to myself. I'll take you better than any of those fucking rookies could even dream of."

He makes good on his promise

[str4wkinzi]

NO LONGER YOUR OWN.

Sukuna x Reader. >:3 (Also i was giggling so hard at the bubbles summoning circle so i had to add it bite me) also this is suppperrrr long so teehee :3

Part 2 <3 Part 3

NSFW CONTENT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

You were obsessed with the thought of summoning something. Spell book upon spell book that line your bookshelf, all were lousy flukes. None of them worked but you still had hope that you’d summon something one day.

You’d recently found out the dark web. They had all sorts of freaky shit on there like “eye of the blahblah” or “brain of the blahblahblah.” Whatever the fuck was on there it didn’t attract you. You were looking for one thing and one thing only.

After searching for a hour or two you come across an ad on the top of the screen. “RYOMEN.” You decide to click on it, its either another scarring video or a….

When you click the ad it takes you to a page that displays a thick book with the words on the ad imprinted on the cover. A book. Maybe not a spell book but its a book on the dark web so it probably is one. After.. hours of searching you found one.

I mean, at this point, fluke or not, you shouldn’t have hours of search to fail and you come back empty handed.

You don’t even read the description before ordering it. Even if it is a fluke its still worth a buy considering its only 5$.

You order it and close the page. Five dollars for the book and three days for it to come. Was hours of search, 70 viruses hacking your computer, and 200 trackers tracking your exact address worth it? Probably not. Do you care? Not really.

Three days after you ordered that book it arrived at your doorstep.

You pick the book up and take it inside, unwrapping it and taking it out of the box. You try ignore the red marks on the book which look and smell like blood..

The book looks exactly how it did in the ad.. except its burnt in some places and scraped on others. This actually looks.. somewhat real. Though, no matter how it looks theres only one thing that can prove this is real.

Candles and salt surrounding you, you know you’re ready. Though, you aren’t very excited. You can’t get your hopes up just incase it is fake.

You light your candles and open the book. You turn to a page, flip the book upside down and start reading. Half way through the page the words start… moving?

With the letters twisting on the page, it ends up spelling one thing..

‘SHUT UP.’

The words doubled, then tripled. The words start climbing out of the page as if they were alive, bouncing around you in a circle. You don’t even have time to see all the candles going out one by one before the book slams itself shut.

You try to open it again, it’s as if its been nailed shut. You try with all your might but it barely budges.

You go grab a knife from your kitchen and pry the book open. You open the book and flip through the pages but… nothings there. No words, no anything. Every single page has absolutely nothing.

A outline of a finger appears on the page you’re on. You put your finger perfectly in the outline. Nothing seems to happen. You try to take your finger off but you cant… You try and try but your finger wont move.

The whole page turns black. You then see a red hand. Not around you, no. Its coming from the page.. The red hand points at you.

It stays in a pointing position before grabbing your face and pulling you into the book. You’re trying to scream but you cant.

You soon fall into a pile of.. you open your eyes and you see a skull looking back at you. You crawl out of the pile screaming. Though it was a long fall, it actually didn’t hurt..?

You get up and start wondering around. You hear laughing from somewhere. You follow the sound and you see a figure on a chair. Thats of course, atop a pile of bones. A really huge pile of bones.

You go closer and you see…. Nothing. Its dark as fuck. But whatever it is.. its still laughing.

“I told you to shut up didn’t I?” the figure scolded.

“I’m giving you a chance. Don’t fuck it up.” He snaps his fingers and you’re out cold before you could utter a word in reply.

You wake up in your bed. You jump up and look around. Everything’s cleaned up, no candles, no salt, no words hopping around everywhere. Its as if last night.. never happened.

The book is still in its same place. Its almost menacing. What was that last night? Who was that last night? So many questions running through your mind make you dizzy. You fall back on your bed.

‘Did that thing have four arms?’ It was dark but you swear you saw two sets of arms, you just didn’t remember it until now.

You try to go on with your day but you just feel someone watching you. When theres no one around you feel theres something.

After you get home you contemplate trying the book again. Who was that? And what did he mean by ‘giving you a chance’?

Later that night you decide you’re trying the book again. You need answers. You set everything up again. The candles that look brand new, the salt that looks like it was never used. Did last night really happen?

With no time to dwell, you start reading again. The words start shifting, this time it spells something different.

‘I WARNED YOU.’

Bloodcurdling screams start echoing around you, making the room spin. You feel a drop of liquid hit your head. You look up and see.. blood. Blood dripping from the ceiling.

Youre too busy looking at the blood dropping to see the eight foot tall man standing in front of you. He starts chuckling and you almost break your neck to look where it came from.

“I gave you a chance to keep your life, mortal.” He says while grabbing your chin.

You’re unable to talk. What would you say to a four armed thing who just appeared in your room? Is this the guy from last night, it has to be.

He pulls your face closer to his, squishing your cheeks with his strong fingers.

“I should rip your face off right now.”

Upon hearing that you squirm away from his grasp and crawl back away from him.

“I could kill you right now.” He says, almost questioningly.

“But.. you are a cute little human. I’ll give you that much.” He adds.

He bends down, noses almost touching.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you give me your body, i’ll let you live.”

With so many things running through your mind you don’t even hear what the man said. Let alone come up with an answer.

“Hurry up, brat. Make me wait too long and ill kill you right here.” The scowls.

You snap out of your trance upon hearing those words.

Wait, what.

“Wait! Okayokayokayokay, whatever you want just don’t kill me!” You plead, you barely even hear what he wanted.

He picks you up with all four of his arms.

You look at all of his arms, tightly securing you feet in the air. He looks you in the eyes for a second before plopping you on the ground, on your knees.

He pulls his pants down just enough to expose his cock.

He sits down on your bed, manspreading.

All you can do is stare. He notices this and grabs the back of your head, forcing you down just enough to have your cheek against it.

Understanding what he wants, you try to put your mouth over the tip but its too big. You keep trying but it just wont fit. He notices your efforts and laughs.

He grabs the back of your head again, taking in a fist full of your hair. He positions your mouth over his cock and he forces you down. The noises and the tears in your eyes while you take his cock almost make it bigger.

He’s chuckling at your almost sorry display. You choking on a cock thats way to big for you is really a sight to see. Though, he can’t help the groans falling from his lips.

He lifts your head up as soon as he was about to cum. You’re trying to catch your breath but he interrupts you.

“Come.” He demands. You scramble to his side as he lays on your bed. He makes you sit right beside his head.

“Sit.” You know what he means. You take your pants off and hover over this face. He notices your hesitance and uses his second pair of arms to grab ahold of yours and hold you down.

You’re a moaning, whining mess. Made putty by the hands of.. whatever he is. You’d be embarrassed but his tongue. You can barely even think straight. The way his tongue squirms into your hole, coming back out only to lick at your clit.

You’re trying to squirm away, he doesn’t let you. With his arms holding you down you really can’t do anything but moan and grind on his face.

Though, you’re almost surprised when you feel two hands start playing with your chest. Forgetting the man has a whole other set of arms. You suddenly feel tongues swirling around your nipples.

The extra stimulation doesn’t help your case, you’re cumming in seconds.

Coming down from your high, he tells you to get on top of him. He knows you can barely stand you don’t have to tell him :3

You hover over him, all of him.

‘Will that thing fit?’

‘Its too big!’

Suddenly you feel his arms on your hips, pushing you down on his cock. You don’t even try to fight back, you can’t fight back.

The stretch is almost unbearable, tears prickling down your face. He notices this and grabs he back of your head, pulling you in just enough to lick away your tears.

After you’ve accommodated him he demands you to…

“Move.”

You put your hands on his torso and start grinding on his cock.

“You’re too slow.”

You’re flipped on your back, legs up. He’s pounding into your cunt like a wild animal.

He takes one of his hands and puts it over your clit, using his mouth-hand thing to suck on it.

With him pounding into your cunt, speed only ever getting faster, and his hand licking your clit, you cum fast.

One after another neither of you stop. He never stops fucking you and you never stop cumming. You would be screaming his name but you don’t even know it.

Wait.

You remember the books title through blurred images in your mind.

RYOMEN.

You remember the page you read.

RYOMEN… SUKUNA.

“Sukuna!” You moan, finally having something new to moan instead of sounding like a broken record.

He stops.

He looks down at you.

He uses his other hand to grab your lower face and lift it towards his as he cranes his face down.

He grins and retreats his face, letting go of yours as well.

“Say my name, pet.”

He starts slamming into you again with more vigor. You’re screaming by this time, you’ve cum so many times and you’re sensitive. He doesn’t care. Actually, that makes it better.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Ryomen Sukuna.

RYOMEN SUKUNA.

RYOMEN SUKUNA!

Really, its music to his ears. He knows he has you now.

After the umpteenth time of mutual cumming he pulls out. His cum flowing out of you looks so adorable.

He puts his hand on the top of your lower stomach. Suddenly, you feel a tingling sensation at that spot. You’re so fucked out you really don’t notice, or care.

Be leans down and whispers in your ear.

“You’re mine now, pet.”

You wake up on your bed, exactly how you were last night except cleaned up. No cum dripping out of your hole or anything. You even have clothes on.

You go to the bathroom and look at yourself. You would doubt last nights happenings but you can barely walk.

You feel something on your lower stomach.

You look down and you see.. a marking..?

You try to wipe it away but it stays.

You try to use water but it wont go away.

Him.

You remember the markings on his face. It reminds you of all of those markings into one. You don’t really have time to question anymore because you hear the bathroom door open.

Sukuna grabs your head and turns it to the mirror, him looking into your eyes through it.

“You’re no longer your own. You belong to me, pet.”

STR4WZ STICKY NOTE < YIPPPEEE this is finally done omg it took so long for NO reason (too busy adding to my 80 drafts) but ill definitely be posting more small stuff cuz its been a couple days ALSO!!! Thanks to my bbg @comicsann for giving me the idea of the uterus claim mark thing or whatever so wahoo anyways love you guys buebue 3

[drdemonprince]

I am very very attracted to my boss and it's driving me insane. There's this amazing chemistry and tension between us and all day long we're just teasing eachother and flirting. We're always gravitating towards eachother and happy to see eachother, finding excuses to work together, etc. He is, however, a straight man twice my age who has a girlfriend and I'm a trans guy who could be completely misreading our interactions. Straight guys often banter and "flirt" with eachother so maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe he's just excited to be some sort of a mentor figure to me and he likes to be admired, and likes to see me grow and learn, and that's all there is to it. He calls me his protege which I find incredibly hot. Anyway I'm seriously contemplating whether I should confess my attraction. I'm not really anticipating him to reciprocate, but would do it more so to get rejected so I would be able to stop fantasizing about him all day long and give myself some closure. On the other hand, I don't want to humiliate myself and create a possible distance or awkwardness between us. There would be no consequences for my job so that's not an issue. I was wondering if you have any words of wisdom for me? You always have such a unique yet sobering outlook on things and I would love to hear your thoughts on this situation.

"Unique yet sobering outlook"! That's the kind of compliment I would have put in the word document alongside all my favorite feedback from English professors back in the day when I still needed that. Sincerely, thank you.

I am of several minds with regard to your question. On the one hand, I think straight people are terminally monogamous most of the time and that it would be hell on earth to get involved with this man and draw the potential ire of his girlfriend even if they weren't.

I think it's usually a self-hating maneuver to date a straight man as a trans masc (I have been there, it is terrible) but as a gay man, I support the frisson of danger that comes with seducing a heterosexual and think it would be a baller little feather in your cap to ruin this man's identity and relationship for a fling with you, even if it would be destined to end in agony.

I hear that this misadventure will not affect your job, but I don't exactly understand how that could be true. It sounds as if you work together quite closely and that his flirty banter is part of what makes the gig pleasant, and even if he doesn't have the capacity to fire you (I'm guessing) this affair could devastate the vibe enough that someone else might step in and fire you for its indirect consequences. happens sometimes.

Part of me however does believe in "fuck it we ball" and in being a bit reckless when you find yourself in a moment of raw, transfixing chemistry. chasing after fascinating moments that are destined to shatter our hearts is one of the core aspects of being alive. It keeps us growing, fills us with vigor! Who doesn't want to one day have an interesting story of a love affair like that?

One of my follow up questions would be how rare this kind of connection is for you. If it were me? Someone I truly connect with on the level you are describing is rare, and I've been willing to risk upending my life as i know it over a fleeting few weeks or months of passion before, and sometimes it's been worth it! Some mistakes are worth making, because we will become stronger and more interesting people after they happen!

But another part of me also thinks "straight men flirt with eachother sometimes" makes no sense and that what you are likely experiencing is him not seeing you as a man, or doing the thing some sensitive straight guys do of leeching attention off of queer men to feed their egos. (Which isn't evil, we all need attention sometimes, but it can be devastating.). If he lets you down because he sees you as a man and is not gay, that might relieve the pressure for you and work out fine. If he is into you because he doesn't see you as a man, you two will fuck and it will be horrible in the long term probably. But maybe hot in the short term.

I also think there are probably hotter ways to play this one (and more strategically effective ones) than a straight-up love confession, which would probably force him to bring up his girlfriend as the reason not to pursue it.

I think if you really want to SEDUCE this man you should spend time with him after work, ask him to mentor you on a labor intensive but potentially rewarding project, disclose little personal details that endear him to you, ask him lots of questions about himself, allow him to open up to you about his life... and then strike.

I think it'll be interesting if you go for it, at least. I certainly want to hear the story. But I don't want you to get fired, lose a mentorship that is important to your career, or get your ass beat by the gf.

So I will also tap my followers for their feedback.

[zhng96]

𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 (𝐖/ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒) ― zb1

↳ pairing: ot9!zb1 x gn!reader

↳ warnings: lowercase intended, these r a lot longer than blurbs LMFAO, implied situationship at the beginning of jiwoong's?? mentions of drinking in zhang hao's, gunwook's is short sawry :(

↳ note: these r so fun i want to do a part 2 of just them as other taylor swift songs. taerae and hao's are my personal favs they are literally so cute i will die.

perm taglist (open): @tzuberry

― KIM JIWOONG.

↳ now playing: style by taylor swift.

jiwoong finds himself slowing his pace as your house gets closer into his view. the light thuds on the concrete pavement are the only sounds that are heard at this time of night in your neighbourhood, but it evokes a sense of comfort.

in hopes of distracting you from his slowing pace, he reaches out to thread your fingers into his. when he hears the hitch of your breath, he smiles- suddenly the thoughts of parting for the night turn into an overwhelming amount of admiration towards you.

despite never disclosing your relationship, it is clear that the two of you are very into each other. however, that didn’t stop the heavy question from lingering on your lips every time you see him.

(more under the cut!)

sure the silence was nice, but your overwhelming thoughts consume you and a question seems to sprout out unprovoked.

“jiwoong, i’m not the only one you’re seeing, aren’t i?”

of course, you couldn't blame anyone for also take interest in him either, he was attractive, dreamy and kind.

jiwoong seems to freeze for a moment, his grip on your hand loosening while the rest of his body tenses in reaction; quite the juxtaposition, but it showed that even in the most compromising situations, he chose to be delicate with you.

"yn, i-" when the sound of his wavering voice fills your ears, you instantly back down.

the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable and lose him altogether, "sorry it's just- i'm so tired of this cat and mouse game-"

"yn." this time, his tone was quite the opposite of what it had been before. that was one thing you admired about him; the way he picked himself back up so easily.

you look at him with furrowed brows, your rambling voice slowly fading out as yours eyes meet his. "i'm the one who should be sorry... i may have been seeing other people but trust me- none of them compare to how much i feel for you."

watching as your lips part in surprise, a warm smile makes its way onto his lips before he continues, "you are worth more than i think i could ever give to you- but if you will have me, i'll try my hardest to give you everything you deserve."

"jiwoong, you have given me everything i have ever wanted and more."

― ZHANG HAO.

↳ now playing: you are in love by taylor swift.

it wasn't like mieun meant to do it of course- she was hammered; but even with that in mind, you couldn't help but be pissed. your clothes were now drenched in her concoction of drinks and spots were starting to dry, causing bits of your shirt to stick to your skin. thankfully, while you were patting your shirt with a wet paper towel, hanbin came over to offer to look after her while you either went home or found a change of clothes.

spoiler alert- you ended up doing both of those things.

however, the last thing you expected was to see your best friend zhang hao at the party as well- also as a designated sober friend. he watched the interaction from afar: your figure in distress as you try to find a way to either get home or get out of these clothes.

"yn!", he calls from over the music, and your head immediately turns in his direction. he gestures to you to follow him and you oblige.

"wait in the bathroom, i'll grab you the spare clothes i have in my car", he then opens the bathroom door for you and gives you a reassuring smile, before shutting it as you walk in.

after what felt like forever, a gentle knock sounds throughout the bathroom.

"it's me, i'll just leave the clothes hanging on the doorknob alright?"

you let out a small 'okay', before opening the door just a crack and reaching for the bag hung around the door knob and shutting it once again once it was in your grasp.

fortunately for you, the liquid had not gotten onto your jeans so you just had to change into his shirt. disgustedly stripping off your shirt, you turn on the sink and wash off any alcohol that had stuck to your skin and when you finally put on zhang hao's shirt- a whiff of his cologne wafts into your nose.

fighting off the blush that threatened to creep up on your cheeks, you take the leftover fabric from the shirt that draped just past your mid-thigh and tie it into a thick knot before leaving the bathroom altogether.

you hadn't expected zhang hao to just be a few inches from the bathroom waiting patiently for your return, but there he was, and his eyes lit up at the sight of you.

"you ready to get out of here?" he asks, silently basking in the sight of you in his shirt.

"but what about mieun?"

"hanbin's already taking her home."

to say the ride home was filled with conversation would be a big fat lie. it was quite silent, zhang hao's radio was turned down to almost a whisper. although you were itching to say something, you couldn't find anything to talk about and it seemed like zhang hao was very comfortable in the silence. did you only see him as a best friend? does someone who only sees someone as a best friend find it hard to find something to converse about with them? all the more, blush when they give you their shirt to help you out?

"zhang hao.." you started, but you couldn't seem to find words to let you finish.

after a few seconds following your failed attempt at conversation, zhang hao smiles gently before glancing at you briefly, "you're my best friend."

tilting your head at the cryptic statement, you want to inquire before he beats you to it, "but i'm in love with you. like truly in love."

licking your lips, your eyes never leave his figure. his eyes stick to the road, but you can tell he meant it- you could sense how he itched to look back at you, "i think i'm in love with you too..."

― SUNG HANBIN.

↳ now playing: call it what you want by taylor swift.

hanbin has made it very clear that he would do anything for you and more. if he had the ability to give you the world he'd also find a way to gift you the moon as well.

for example, when earlier today you had told him you were craving stir fried spicy pork- now he had just texted you that he was on his way with spicy pork and your favourite dessert.

when he arrived at your door with the biggest grin, both the stir fried pork and dessert in his arms, he quickly sets them down to replace them with you. the embrace was quick but full of every feeling that bubbled within him everytime he saw you.

when you lean in to peck him on his cheeks, his eyes catch a gold necklace with a heart pendant dangling from your neck. obliging to your kiss, he smiles before his hands move to rub the heart between his fingers.

you quickly blush- you hadn't expected him to notice the new necklace so quickly.

"what's this?", he asks, before a carving on the back of the heart scratches at his finger tips.

he flips it over to find his initials engraved on the back side of the heart- a big goofy grin finds its way onto his lips and you can't help but focus on each and every feature of his face as he reacts.

"you bought a necklace with my initials engraved onto it?"

"yeah... not in a weird possesive way or anything i just... the way you love me is the most precious thing in my life and i never want to forget what- or rather who makes it so precious in the first place..."

"we better get me one of your initials too then."

― SEOK MATTHEW.

↳ now playing paper rings by taylor swift.

matthew liked you. like really really liked you. he found it so unbelievable that you held the same emotions for him, but you did- and god did you know how to make it known.

you were on the same boat, matthew has always been the sweetest, most patient and understanding person you had ever met.

the night he had confessed to you while rewatching a romcom for the 13th time in a row had made it’s way into your “favourite memories” folder in your head.

he was everything you could ever ask for and more- everything he did for you was so much even if it was just buying you your favourite snacks.

before you even considered your feelings for matthew, you considered yourself as someone who wasn’t exactly the most romantic- but when you were around him it’s like a switch flipped.

even if you adored the thought of the idea of a beautiful crystal sitting in the middle of your wedding ring, one which glistened beautifully when the light hit no matter the angle, even if matthew proposed with a ring made of newspaper- you’d accept it in a heartbeat.

“what you thinkin’ about?” he drawls, nudging you by the shoulder as he left no space between the two of you on the couch.

“mm.. js’ really love you.” you smile, glacing at him with adoration.

his eyes crinkle as he smiles and he grabs your arms and pulls you closer to him- if even possible.

“i think the world of you.” he replies, hands resting on your thighs as you were now straddling his waist. you knew that even if that engagement ring was made of newspaper, matthew’s neverending fondness for you would make up for it.

― KIM TAERAE.

↳ now playing: fearless by taylor swift.

as much as you felt bad for leaving your coworker's wedding, it was getting boring and you weren't about to waste the 150 dollars you spent on a nice outfit just to sit and clap while others danced.

thus leading you to be drive down the dark streets in taerae’s car with the radio on blast. the late summer rain started pouring, but taerae's windshield wipers found it easy to wipe away any droplets of rain from the windshield.

lovers wasn't the right word to describe your relationship with taerae- it more of you having a crush and not knowing if he felt the same. way he looked in a button down, his blazer discarded in the backseat, and his sleeves folded up to his elbows.

he hums along to the song while you simply stare, he looked so good right now- that wasn't exactly what someone should be thinking about they're best friend, right?

"the rain's starting to pour really hard, how about we park at the 711?", his suggestion immediately snaps you away from your stupor and you find his eyes glancing back and forth between you and the road.

"uh- yeah... that's fine."

when taerae pulls into the parking lot, he cranks the radio even louder and you look at his with a raised brow, "c'mon!"

widening your eyes at the sight of him opening his door to make way for the pouring rain, he steps out and kneels to make eye contact with you, his gaze expecting you to do the same.

"what?!"

"we didn't leave the wedding just to not have any fun, c'mon!" you bite your lip in contemplation at his reasoning- surely it was a good argument.

nodding to yourself, you open your door and try not to flinch at the feeling of the rain starting to soak your well done hair.

taerae quickly makes his way you your side of the car, keeping the door of the passenger side slightly agape to hear the blasting radio better.

once he turns back to you, you swear you had tunnel vision- his hair was slicked back by his own doing as the rain soaked it and so was his button-down.

he takes hold of one of your hands and raises it above your head, twisting it to help you spin- the sudden action makes you grin.

then he grabs onto both of your hands and starts to dance, relishing in the way the music echoed throughout the desolate gas station parking lot.

"taerae! my clothes were 150 dollars, i don't know if playing in the rain would make the price worth it", you say between giggles. even as you said it, you complied with his dancing.

he tilts his head in amusement, watching as you too enjoyed the moment albeit the comments that were meant to bring the two of you back to reality, "alright then, if we get it dry cleaned and i take you out to dinner, will it be worth the price then?"

he pulls you close, the two of you stopping in your tracks and a burst of confidence surges through your veins, "yeah... it'll be worth every moment i spent thinking about you too."

― SHEN RICKY.

↳ now playing gorgeous by taylor swift.

your relationship with ricky was simply that there wasn't one. sure you were acquaintances as you know each other through mutual friends and those mutual friends hang out a lot, but you just can't seem to talk to him.

grudgingly, you'll admit that you don't talk to him because you hate the butterflies he gives you from simply looking at you, or the fact that you swear you would melt into a puddle if he smiled at you.

however, for ricky, he enjoyed how painfully obvious your ignoring of his existence was. sure, he found himself smirking at himself at the thought of you unable to even maintain eye contact with him when he asked you a question, but had he ever found out why? the answer was no.

maybe it was because of the rumour that you truly did have a boyfriend? perhaps the rumour had been true and you were simply just avoiding him because your boyfriend had asked you to. or it was something completely unrelated to even having a boyfriend at all and you just had some problem with him that he was unaware of.

he settled on the former- he didn't want to suffer through a headache due to mindless thinking.

however, his observation was clearly proven wrong when he finds himself left alone in a room with you after both of your guys' friends went to the convenience store without you two knowing.

the silence was awkward, ricky watched as you fidgeted with your fingers and absolutely avoided even looking in his general direction.

"why won't you look at me? or talk to me? we've known each other for 2 months now..."

you purse your lips and finally find the courage to meet his eyes, you quickly regret that decision as you find it hard to look away.

"i'm not good with talking to people..."

"such a cop-out answer", he chuckles, his smile only making your heart race faster than it already was.

"do you have a boyfriend?" the casualty of his question catches you off guard and you part your lips in surprise, an obnoxious questioning sound coming from your lips.

"what made you think that?!" you finally manage to sputter out an answer, and ricky gives you an entertained smirk- you feel like you will melt in your spot if he keeps it up.

"so you aren't avoiding me because you have a boyfriend?"

"what kind of nonsense is that? i'm avoiding you because you're really cute and i hate that just by looking at me i find myself unable to process anything!"

a few seconds of silence overlaps the two of you before you snap your mouth open in distress, "shit..."

"hey, don't stress, we can take this slow. at least now i know why you were avoiding me."

"take things slow..?"

"you didn't think i'd care about you ignoring me if i wasn't an ounce interested in you, did you?"

― KIM GYUVIN.

↳ now playing: cruel summer by taylor swift.

you were in quite the predicament. kim gyuvin was your brothers best friend, not someone you could have a crush on. you two were friends, not close of course; only usually talking when your brother was around. after all, it would be quite weird to hang out alone- at least in your opinion.

in all fairness, you hated your relationship with him. you hated keeping secrets from him just to keep him around. sure, it was selfish to wish for more, if you told him you liked him and it didn't turn out well, your brother may end up losing his best friend too.

however, you were in much luck. your brother along with gyuvin had just graduated. you once had overheard the two talking about moving out together and going to a school the next city away.

summer was dawning in, the rain started to leave and your mind turned it gears with careful cogs. now was the perfect time to confess- if he rejected you, your relationship would not weigh in on his and your brothers', if he said yes- well, you hadn't really thought about it.

either way, either ending satisfied you. you didn't expect much from it, really- but the thought of having a chance to keep him around filled your being with much hope.

it was at least 1 hour past midnight. you went down to grab a small midnight snack, the weight of seeing gyuvin in the living room with your brother free from your chest after hearing the snores coming from your siblings' room just down the hall.

as you turn from the stairs to face the kitchen, you find a tall brunette sitting at the kitchen island, eyes already on your figure.

"oh-"

"hey", his smile was gentle, his voice was laced in fatigue but he didn't seem to want to move in his spot, almost waiting for something- or someone?

"sorry, i thought you were asleep. i heard snoring..."

"oh, your brother fell asleep five minutes into the movie, i couldn't stand his snoring so i brought him up to his room", he chuckled, you find yourself smiling at the sound.

you walk towards your stove, feeling a little intimidated as his gaze does not leave your body.

"you happy you graduated?" you ask, your back turned towards him as you set a pot of water onto the stove.

"hm, bittersweet feelings."

"why's that?" you furrow a brow, staring at the water in the pot, praying it would boil faster.

"js' wish i had done somethings while i was still in highschool... 'dunno"

you only hum, the thought of confessing digging itself to the top of your brain. was now a good time?

"yn?" you blink, turning you head in his direction. had you been in a trance for an embarrassing amount of time?

"think you could make me a pack too?" he gestures towards the singular pack of ramen sitting atop the counter. you tense for a moment before complying, turning to the pantry to retrieve another pack.

by the time you make your way back in front of the pot, the water is already boiling. you open both packets, dumping the noodles in and pulling the flavour packets out. turning the heat to medium, you still refuse to turn your body back towards gyuvin in fear.

now. right now is the best time.

"you thought about the university you want to go to once you graduate-"

"gyuvin i like you... it's bad."

taking his silence as a definite no, you try to blink away the tears the surface, eyes burning into the noodles that slowly softened in the water.

you think that he's found his escape, quietly going up the stairs while your back is still turned but you find your observation wrong. a gentle hand wraps around your wrist and beckons you to look at the culprit.

when you turn, you expect to find gyuvin looking at you with sincere apology. instead, you find a coy smile on his lips.

"what's so bad about that?" you look at his eyes in exasperation, searching for evidence of a joke- was he teasing you right now?

"you're my brothers best friend! not to mention you're moving away!"

"would you believe me if i told you that your brother knew about my crush on you?"

"what?!" gyuvin snickers before putting a finger to his lips, sure you were being adorable- but too loud at 1am.

he turns to turn the heat on the stove off before looking at you again, "and we've decided we're not moving... we both didn't get in so we're staying here to go to uni."

letting out a breath of relief, you still shook in your spot, "so you don't think it's weird that you're best friends with my brother and i'm his sister who has feelings for you?"

"what, is there some love handbook i don't know about?"

you can't help the light-hearted laugh that erupts from your throat at his sarcasm, "no... i guess there isn't."

"good, because not telling you i liked you before i graduated was my one and only regret..."

― PARK GUNWOOK.

↳ now playing: message in a bottle by taylor swift.

park gunwook was an admirable classmate of yours. he was bound to have admirers, he was class prez after all. his ranks were good and he is attractive- no denying that.

what is embarrasing however, is how you found yourself as one of those admirers.

it started off with simple notes of motivation. you only signed with an anagram. then, it turned into small gifts from the school store.

you revelled in the way he surveyed the room after each time he read a note from you, or the way he would ask his friends if the had seen someone set something on his desk.

however, you were diligent with being sneaky. you would only set something on his desk when the hallway and classroom were clear- it was usually during lunch or, if you got to the school too early, you would do it then.

what you weren't diligent with though, was estimating his intelligence.

arriving at the school late today, you rush into the classroom, praying that teacher was also running late. to your misfortune- he was not.

you stops you at the door, publicly announcing your arrival, making your rushed morning even worse before handing you a detention slip and dismissing you to your desk.

you set your bag down beside the desk chair and when you look up, a light pink sticky note tabbed to your desk catches your eye.

you frown before sitting down, grabbing the sticky note and fumbling to read it.

"thanks for the gifts yn- or should i say, my secret admirer. want to go to the convenience store with my at lunch? - p. gunwook" it read.

in surprise, you perk your head up and immediatley jerk your head into his direction. he was already looking back at you, a bashful smile on his face accompanied by a shy tilt of his head.

a goofy smile breaks through it restraints before you could stop it and you nod- suddenly your morning wasn't too bad.

― HAN YUJIN.

↳ now playing: enchanted by taylor swift.

han yujin did not think that the last thing that would be engraved in his mind after gunwook’s birthday party would be you.

you were gunwook’s childhood friend- sure he’d mentioned you every once in a while, but yujin had never truly met you.

he was glad that gunwook’s birthday party gave him that chance.

you were absolutely captivating- the way you looked in your formal yet casual attire, the way you lit up around the people you were close to, and the kindness you spread to everyone even if you didn’t know them.

yujin actually had the chance to talk to you, probably the main reason you had been lingering in his mind since he had left the gathering.

gunwook had pulled you over to finally introduce you to his friends. when you introduced yourself, he found out that you were actually from around here, just attending a different school.

the two of you actually hit it off pretty well, while gunwook and gyuvin were goofing on the dance floor, yujin and you just decided to sit and watch.

as he grew to know more about you; your school life, your friends, you rank in class, your hobbies and more, he couldn’t help the pit that grew in his stomach.

with everything that you do, you were bound to have someone interested in you- or have your interest lying on someone else, right?

little did yujin know that you were thinking just the same. it would be impossible to imply that yujin has never had an encounter with an admirer, let alone have his eye on someone.

when you two parted ways at the party, the longing to see eachother again had already started to set in. after a few bittersweet goodbyes, you two got into seperate cars and headed home.

as if the world heard both of your prayers, the next week, yujin was invited to hangout with gunwook and a few other friends- he could only hope that by “a few other friends” you would make an appearance.

and you did.

the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him gave him his answer. the only person you had been waiting for was him.

navi. mlist.