#and then this week there’s one that he’s been pushing which actually does sound really good and I need to watch it

[sluttyten]

one of my coworkers is single-handedly dragging me into watching anime 😂

[mywritersmind]

SAVIOR - LN4

pt.2

summary : Y/n’s favorite place has quickly become her and Lando’s shared hallway. They grow closer and finally make it to the fresh air.

OG SUMMARY (When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.)

listen up : no warnings!! y/n is clueless abt f1. lando is silly. i’m craving strawberries now.

word count : 1878

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I haul my five grocery bags into the elevator, struggling to keep them all off the ground. I sigh when I finally still in the metal box, i’ve carried these at least two blocks and one had broken on the way.

The doors are about to close but a hand slides in between them, making them automatically open for him.

Hello my hot mysterious neighbor.

He looks relieved he made it, “Y/n!” He says cheerfully, like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s been a couple weeks since I slammed on his door and stomped through his kitchen.

The other side of the hallway had been quiet until last night when I heard keys rattling and the door opening. I can’t help but wonder what he does that keeps him from home so often.

“Lando, Hi!” I smile back as he slides beside me and presses our floor.

“You need help?” He eyes the bags as I bite my lip, not wanting to bother him. I don’t have the time to respond because he takes three bags out of my hands like it’s nothing.

“Thank you.” I sigh, “I’ve been struggling for like two blocks.” He laughs a bit with me as the numbers get higher and higher.

“I’m happy to help.” We finally reach our floor, Lando watches me go first and walk to my door, unlocking it and walking in.

Lando follows hesitantly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

“Thank you again! I put myself in a bit of a bind when I decided that my friends need fifteen types of salami and cheese.” I place the bags on the counter, Lando following.

I push back my hair and suddenly wish I had cleaned up a bit more. My friends are coming over tonight and I had decided to push back my cleaning. Looking around at the clothes and old popcorn bowls scattered around makes me want to slap myself.

“Really, I like to lend a hand! I never get to be neighborly.” He shrugs.

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” I start placing the cold items in the freezer.

He leans against the counter, his arms holding him up and looking alarmingly fit, “Uh… You ever follow Formula 1?”

I nod, “Kinda? I used to love it!” My mom and I would watch every sunday but I stopped in college so I don’t know any of the current grid, “So you work in the sport! That’s cool, pretty hands on?” I ask as he laughs a bit, looking awkward.

“Yeah, I work with the cars.” He looks around my place a bit, “So, why does one need this much food? I’m judging or anything it’s just… You don’t seem like the type to need a jumbo sized pretzel bag.”

I smile and snatch the bag from him, “I could definitely eat all of this by the way! But I'm having a bit of a party tonight. If anything’s too loud just let me know! It’s just old friends from college- actually.” I look up at him, a boost of confidence appearing in me, “You could join us. If you’re not busy.”

It suddenly sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. I turn back to the fridge, placing a bottle of lemonade in it and cringing.

“I would love to.” I let out a sigh of relief, “But I've got plans…” I frown and turn back to him, finally putting away the last of my groceries.

“Aw.”

“It’s really nice of you to invite me.” I smile, a bit sad and confused why I'm disappointed. I mean I barely know the man. “What do you do for work?”

I lean against the counter so I'm across from him, “I’m a writer. Journalism right now but I really want to take a more bookish route…”

He genuinely looks so intrigued, more interested than anyone else who I've told I write articles about neighborhood drama.

He checks his watch, which I'm now realizing is incredibly expensive, and swears, “I gotta go. Have fun with your party tonight.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I definitely do have fun. My friends and I eat, drink, and play board games just like we’re back in dorms. I’m seeing my last and closest friend off when Lando comes up the hallway, As my friend's eyes go wide when she sees him, I shake my head.

“Goodbye!” I push her out of my apartment, “Love you!”

“Yeah love you too! Text me!” She walks past Lando, nodding at him before she turns behind his back and mouths ‘he’s hot’.

I roll my eyes at her, a smile still on my face as Lando looks at me. He’s in a full suit, holding his blazer in his hand.

“Fun time then?” God he’s hot!

“Absolutely!” I giggle, a bit tipsy, “How about you then?” I eye his suit.

“As good as I could make it.”

I slap my hand over my mouth, “God you aren’t coming from a funeral then, are you?”

He laughs at this, “No! No. A work banquet thing.”

I giggle a bit as he turns to his door, “Hey!” I say without thinking, “Would you want to come in? I have wine.”

He’s sitting on my couch thirty minutes later, a glass deep and talking about where he’s traveled too.

“That’s my dream!” I say, my feet tucked under myself as I tilt my head on the couch cushions, “Traveling. I mean- You’ve been everywhere!”

He shrugs, sipping his wine, his tie undone and shoes off, “It’s amazing but I'm not there for long so I don’t usually get to sightsee much. Honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened to me recently is this pretty girl came to save my baking disaster.”

I hum to his words, blushing a bit, “Sounds like a hero if i’ve ever heard one.” We both go silent, taking pieces of my leftover charcuterie board. “Should I start watching F1?”

“No!” He says it so quick that i’m taken aback.

“No?”

He laughs a bit, shaking it off, “It’s boring. I can’t have someone else in my life talk about it.”

I spin my wine around in the glass, “So I'm someone in your life now?”

He smirks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

I pretend to contemplate this, “I’ve never had a friend who hasn’t gone to the strawberry market with me.”

He makes an odd face, “So we must go then.”

I sigh, “If you want to be my friend…”

The corner of his mouth pulls, “Tomorrow at 9?”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

He’s at my door at 9:12. Thank god he’s late because I hop over to the door, pulling on my shoe and pulling down my jean skirt.

I open the door and stand up straight, smiling breathlessly. He, of course, looks perfect in jeans and an olive green shirt, “Morning.”

“Ready to taste the best strawberries you’ve ever had?” I grab my bag and keys.

“So ready.”

We make it to the market just on time. It’s my favorite neighborhood gem. Every Sunday people gather with strawberries. There are big and small, some covered in chocolate and some in honey.

I buy a box of chocolate ones, well Lando does. He insists that he still owes me. Handing one to Lando with an extra fork, he bites into it, his eyes roll, “Fucking hell.” I nod, excited that he likes them as much as I do.

“My favorite treat! Something you can’t burn your house down with.” I eye him and he eyes me right back. Being with Lando is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never been so confident in my social skills.

He laughs with a shop owner as he buys his pack of plain strawberries. He's so nice and just listens politely as the woman goes on and on about her childhood on a strawberry farm.

He gives her a bigger bill than necessary and as she insists it’s too much, he just shakes his head and continues walking.

We settle at a park bench nearby, tasting all the pieces we’ve bought, “This is genuinely phenomenal.” He says while eating another, “How’d you find this place?”

“Had to write about something local and had total writers block… I was walking around one day and just sort of stumbled upon it.”

He smiles, I really like this smile. “You seem like the type to just stumble upon a strawberry market.”

I laugh, covering my mouth, “What does that even mean?”

“You’re just so…” His hands make these weird gestures, his fingers moving around as he laughs and gives up, “It just fits.”

I smile, meeting his eyes. They're so nice, a mix of blue and green. His gaze washes over me and I feel the need to smile even more.

“You’ve got nice eyes.” My stomach twists as he says it so calmly, “Real pretty.” I feel a blush on my cheeks and I turn away from him, looking at the park near us and being startled by the child looking up at us.

Lando follows my gaze, mumbling softly, “Shit.”

“Hi.” The kid says awestruck, I look to Lando who’s smiling and sitting up straighter. “Um- Are you Lando Norris?”

Lando scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah I am! What's your name?”

“W-William!” He says, swallowing and pulling a pen from behind his back, “Could you sign this?” I glance to what looks like his mother, she’s watching him with a smile.

Lando simply nods and takes the cap from his head, its bright orange. He signs his name and messes up the kid's hair, “Thanks a lot! My friends’ll never believe it!” The boy squeals and runs back to his mom who waves slightly and takes the boy's hand.

I raise a brow at Lando, still confused, “I’m sorry…” He looks embarrassed but I don’t even know what for.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t tell me the whole truth in what your job is?”

His cheeks get a bit red, “I do work with the cars… Just really close. Like I’m in them. One specifically.”

I nod, “Yours?”

“Mine.” He crosses his arms, his lips in a thin line, “I drive for McLaren.” I breathe out.

“Oh.” I can’t help but think I have a type because I grew up with Jenson Button posters on my wall.

He runs a hand through his curls, “I don’t usually get recognized around here- Thought we would be okay.”

“We are okay!” I reassure him, realizing he’s actually embarrassed, “That was sweet.”

He looks up hopefully, “You think? I’m sorry for lying- I just really liked that you didn’t know who I am or what I do.”

“Well, I sort of still don't. I know your full name now, that’s about it.” He smiles at this, I bite into another strawberry.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

He is yet to say something I'm not shocked at.

“Yeah.” I nod, smiling at him as he grins, “I’d really like that. Don’t you have to race soon though…? Singapore, isn’t it?”

The smirk that pulls at his lips is just plain mischievous, “I never said the date would be here.”

[xxlady-lunaxx]

(DOMESTIC) SANEGIYUU HEADCANONS

Sanemi is ALWAYS the one cooking

I’m sorry but I can only see Giyuu fucking up scrambled eggs or something. Sanemi cooks (or bakes) like a professional

Giyuu having a bedhead (he’s adorable) and Sanemi waking him up by either:

throwing a pillow on his face

running his hands through his hair and a “good morning, shithead”

One or the other, no in betweens

Sanemi usually does the chores like laundry, cooking, etc (malewife<33)

Giyuu can do things if given clear instructions tho

Hmm showering together just as a habit

If either of them were mad at the other (or they js fought) before bed, they’ll probably distance themself on the futon

When they wake up they’re always cuddling though

ouugh yes they share a bed

(it was so awkward at first like “ok… i’ll have this side” but then they got comfy and steal each other’s pillows (so romantic smh))

Sanemi definitely holds a longer grudge

Giyuu gets upset if he gets ignore too long, though, and Sanemi eventually caves

Why do I feel like Sanemi would just take pictures or videos of Giyuu randomly

When he’s asleep, when he’s just woken up, when he’s eating, doesn’t matter

Because Sanemi’s in charge of meals usually, Giyuu only gets salmon daikon once a week (which is already a lot as is, but he begs Sanemi for it so…)

Sanemi used to braid/put up his siblings hair a lot and when the two are cuddling, sometimes he makes little braids in Giyuu’s hair, or pulls it up in a high ponytail (often Giyuu wakes up with braids and his hair gets a lil wavy when he takes it out later)

Giyuu’s the baby in the relationship you cant change my mind. He’s the little spoon; he’s being carried because he’s tired; he’s given breakfast in bed.

Sanemi honestly doesn’t mind (he’s used to this) but likes teasing Giyuu about it

Giyuu has a bow of Tsutako’s (he stole a spare) and wears it to formal places always. (job interview? bow. prom? bow. work? bow.)

Sometimes Giyuu helps Sanemi hang up the laundry but they somehow end up hugging always (Giyuu goes on the other side of the clothing line and ThEIr lEgS juST mOVed By THemSElf)

On weekends, when there’s nothing to do, Sanemi will just scroll through his phone and Giyuu watching TV

Giyuu can NEVER not fall asleep during a movie though. depends on the day but he’ll either fall asleep 20 mins in or half way through

Sanemi doesn’t really watch movies and just slowly turns down the volume then off to not startle him awake

I can see Sanemi just volunteering to babysit for their friends (for free<3) and just having a box full of children’s toys for when they come over

Giyuu once overfed a baby to near sickness (“I thought her grabby hands were for more :(“ - “YOU IDIOT, SHE WAS TRYING TO PUSH AWAY THE BOTTLE!!”) and was thereafter forbidden to care for the children (unless they were older than, like, 12)

After a stressful day at work, Giyuu likes flopping down on the couch and having Sanemi run his hands through his hair and hum a bit, maybe small talk

I think Giyuu is actually an open book and horrible at hiding his emotions (like canonically as a child he was like that, only the deaths changed him sooo) whilst Sanemi is better at hiding things

But like after years of living with Sanemi/js being with him, Giyuu has been able to see small telltales

When he’s lying, Sanemi’s eyes flick every so slightly away (so subtly that only a few have caught it before), when he’s upset, he’s a little clingier or his voice is calmer (though many people interpret it as tiredness), when he’s angry but trying to stay calm he’ll probably have a lot of clenched fists (his hand opening and closing x100) but behind his back haha

Why can I see them both as dry texters tho.

Giyuu tries to sound more upbeat by adding emojis/emoticons but overall it’s basically just “Ok 😁👍❤️😋😚✨🎆🎉🎊🎏🍩🔥” // 😭 yeah he doesn’t have a lot of people to text…

I can also see Sanemi being a little old fashioned in a way, idk… He knows perfectly fine how to use a phone and shit but for some time mostly sent letters (except for casual/small talk ofc)

ok that’s it i can’t think of anything else anymore!!

[dadvans]

i feel the weight [7x09 coda, bucktommy]

Buck hadn't actually been planning on seeing Tommy tonight but the late night pit-stop at Eddie’s has him freaking out, so he shoots Tommy a text from the dark driver's seat of his jeep: kinda need to get out of my head. Could you come over?

The response is almost immediate: already in bed. If you’re safe to drive there’s a spot next to me waiting, followed by a selfie, Tommy shirtless sitting up in bed with his readers on.

Buck’s keys are turning in the ignition before his phone screen goes dark, and he’s pulling out of Eddie’s driveway to hurry over. Tommy gave him a key last week, and despite an odd track record staying over at exes’ places instead of them at his, he’s excited he finally gets to use it.

He lets himself in, kicking his shoes off and is still half tangled in his jacket when he nudges Tommy’s bedroom door open. The overhead light is still on and Tommy’s got what is clearly a World War Two biography thicker than a Tolstoy novel in his lap, fingers keeping his spot in place. He puts it on the nightstand and smiles so softly for a big guy, gives a little chin tilt greeting.

“Hey you,” he says. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” Buck replies, taking broad strides over to his bedside and then climbing in Tommy's lap, straddling Tommy's hips, getting hands on his face to trace the rim of Tommy’s glasses with his thumb. “These are staying on, by the way.”

“Fine by me,” Tommy says and sighs, searching Buck’s face for a second. “Okay, sweetheart, let me take care of you.”

And then Buck loses himself for a little bit.

He comes back to himself sweaty, minus his pants, and come drunk, panting at Tommy’s side some time later. Tommy’s leaning on an elbow, looking at him. His glasses are crooked, and Buck reaches out to straighten them.

“Thanks.” Tommy snorts. “So, you wanna talk about it? Something happen during your shift today?”

“Not really. Sort of.” Evan sighs, and Tommy pets his hair, pushing the curls stuck to his forehead up. “Something going on with Eddie, and I feel like I shouldn’t even be talking about it, but I’m scared he’s going to hurt himself. I’m scared he’s going to do something that’ll hurt Chris in the long run too.”

“Sounds difficult.”

“Yeah, I mean, you guys are close too, so if you see him this week or sometime soon, just— could you check in with him? I don’t think I’m overreacting, but the situation seems crazy, and it just makes my head hurt." He sighs. "I'd honestly rather talk about anything else.”

“Okay, I can do that.” Tommy doesn’t sound placating. He never does when Buck talks about Eddie, which is a novel experience compared to Buck’s other relationships. And maybe that’s because Tommy is friends with Eddie, but also maybe it’s because Tommy’s just different like that.

Good for you, Bobby had said.

Buck smiles. “There is something good that happened earlier today, actually. I can tell you about that. Bobby told me he uh, approves. Of us.”

“Oh? Do all your relationships need Bobby’s stamp of approval?” Tommy asks wryly.

“No, no, it’s not like that. It’s just. Bobby’s seen me go through a lot of relationships, and I think he worries, you know? I have a tendency to not do the right thing sometimes, compromise too much, maybe, try too hard. And I think he’s seen how settled I’ve felt. At ease, you know?” Buck sighs. “It felt really good to hear.”

“That is good to hear.” Tommy’s hand combs through Buck’s hair down to cradle the back of his head, and he pulls them together for a soft kiss, just one. “I’m glad your dad approves of us, Evan.”

“Stop,” Buck says, but he’s smiling.

“Not in a million years,” Tommy replies, and he’s smiling too

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my gf's son not to call me dad?

I (22M) have been dating my gf (24F) for 4 years now. She has a 7 year old whose dad isn't in the picture anymore - he hasn't been since the kid was born. My gf says he was abusive and I think there are some charges against him but as far as I know, nothing was proven. He has other kids too who he does have a relationship with but he doesn't have custody rights with my gf's son so they hasn't been allowed to have a relationship.

My gf and I live together and are both in college. I am going to be a surgeon and she wants to study science but she hasn't decided what to do with it yet. Because we're both busy with that, her son doesn't live with us full time. He stays with her parents during the week. This means that we have to dedicate our weekends to looking after the kid. I didn't really mind this at first but her parents are really pushing for her to look after him during the week now too, which we don't have time for. I hear how that doesn't sound great but the plan has always been that her parents will take care of the kid until she finishes with school. She has classes for 4+ hours from Mon-Thurs, plus she needs to spend a few hours studying every day, then she has labs on Friday for most of the day. I have classes all week for fewer hours each day but next semester I'll probably be doing an internship so I'll have more work to do. Then we pick up her kid on Friday evenings and spend the whole weekend with him. There's hardly any time for us to spend time alone together. I like her son and he's usually fun to have around but both of us are obviously stressed from having no down time so most weekends my gf and her son get into an argument or something and things escalate. I try not to get involved when that happens. Sometimes my gf and I are the ones who end up arguing and in that case, I usually go to my parents house.

Basically, I'm not super involved with the kid. Her parents want us to spend all of our free time on parenting despite originally agreeing that it was better if my gf focused on school. He has a dad who could probably be more involved but my gf and her family don't want him around. I've suggested that maybe it would be a better solution for her son to live with his dad full time, that way she can focus on school and then her career and still have time for herself and for us. I love her but she doesn't really have maternal instincts and she doesn't actually want kids, she has said a lot that she regrets not giving him up for adoption.

Recently, we were out for dinner with my gf's sister and kid, and the kid called me his dad. He's done this a lot and usually I just kind of ignore it, but no one else corrected him this time and I felt like the kid deserved the truth. I asked him then and there not to call me dad because he has a real dad who probably wouldn't like it. He didn't seem upset by it but my gf's sister lost it. She thinks I don't want the kid around and that I'm the reason my gf doesn't spend more time with him. She also thinks this was the first time my gf's son heard about his bio dad. Total conjecture, but she won't hear my side of it. The kid knows I havent been around since he was born so he obviously knows someone else must be his dad. I told my gf I don't think it's fair to let the kid call me dad when he has a real dad out there and she sort of agrees. She told her son not to call me dad anymore and they had a long talk about it. She still doesn't want the real dad involved but that's a whole other battle.

Here's why I think I might be the asshole: I said this to the kid in a moment of annoyance, which probably wasn't the way to bring it up. Like I said, he didn't seem upset by it but I wasn't there for the longer conversation so I don't know exactly. I think he's old enough to be allowed to know about his real dad in a more serious way. It's kind of messed up that he could run into his dad in the street (we live in a pretty small town) and wouldn't know it. I'm not his dad and for the foreseeable future, I won't be responsible for him as a parent because he still lives with his grandparents. I think it's reasonable to say that he shouldn't call me dad. So, AITA?

[icyminghao]

of shy smiles and misunderstandings

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, college!au, wonwoo is so whipped word count: 1.8k

summary: wonwoo sees you at the library almost every day and falls head over heels for you. only, you seem to be avoiding him for annoyingly unknown reasons.

You’re here again, Wonwoo notes, pushing his glasses up.

You’ve been sitting at the table across from his in the library for the past three weeks after school, and he couldn’t help but notice you. You’d be nose-deep in your course materials while Wonwoo does some light reading for leisure, which has increasingly turned into light reading sessions where he not-so-subtly observes you instead.

He’s well aware of how much he’d be made fun of if any of his friends found out about his recent fixation on you, but he just couldn’t help but notice the way you’d scrunch your nose when you didn’t understand the material, or how you’d tilt your head and mumble things to yourself in order to try to understand whatever you were reading. It’s cute, he justifies in his head, then sighs. He’s whipped.

You look up at the sound only to meet his widening eyes right away, and he holds your gaze, frozen like a deer in headlights.

To his surprise, the corners of your lips curl up as you give him a shy smile before going back to your course material without waiting for a reaction from him. He silently thanks you for doing that as his whole face heats up, turning absolutely red at the small gesture.

He's so gone.

In the days after your little interaction (which Wonwoo flips over and over in his head as he stares up at the ceiling at 2AM in the morning), the two of you fall into a routine of softly smiling at each other whenever one of you catches the other's eye, and Wonwoo is getting incredibly anxious as he contemplates whether or not to take the seat across from you and strike up a conversation. For one, you don't seem to be creeped out by him, if your friendly smiles are any indication, but what if you find him weird after he does that? He'll have to avoid his comfort place forever, possibly switch colleges, maybe even move out of the country-

"Woah, Wonwoo, you literally look like you just saw a ghost!" Soonyoung's voice booms through the silent library, gaining the attention of the surrounding students, you included. He earns a few annoyed shushes, to which he sheepishly apologises for.

In a quieter voice, he nudges Wonwoo. "You didn't even look like that that one time we went to the escape room and you saw an actual ghost-"

Soonyoung trails off, realising that Wonwoo really isn't paying attention to him at all, instead looking dazed and staring directly at something in front of him. Or someone, Soonyoung realises, as he follows Wonwoo's line of sight only to see you smiling back at Wonwoo.

"No way, Wonwoo. Are you crushing on someone? Why didn't you tell me?" Soonyoung laughs in disbelief, smacking Wonwoo on the back. Wonwoo turns to look at Soonyoung, just noticing his presence beside him. Shooting a small smile at Soonyoung, he turns back towards you only to see that you'd directed your attention back to your work, though you look a little... hurt. Did someone say something to you while he was distracted? There’s no one in your immediate vicinity, so that was unlikely. What was the reason then?

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you sigh, hurriedly gathering your things. Much to his dismay, you don’t even spare Wonwoo a glance as you leave the library.

"Hey... are you okay?" Soonyoung asks, cautious. Wonwoo shrugs.

Maybe you're just having a bad day?

After that whole ordeal with Soonyoung, you don't sit at your usual table anymore. Wonwoo finds you hidden in a corner deep inside the library while he's browsing for new books to read one day, and if you noticed him there, you don't give any indication, much to Wonwoo's disappointment. He can't shake off the feeling that he must have done something, but he can't figure out what even after racking his brain for answers late at night when he can't sleep.

He figured you were never going to interact with him again, and resolved to move on.

That was until fate hit Wonwoo in the face with an opportunity to interact with you again, courtesy of a mutual friend. Mingyu, his friend from the track-and-field club, had invited him to have lunch in one of the college's cafeterias with some other friends. Having not seen Mingyu in at least a few weeks, Wonwoo naturally agreed. Besides, who can say no to this puppy-like friend of his?

Which gave him quite the shock of his life, as he walked up to Mingyu's table only to see you sitting amongst his friends. Your eyes widened too, like you weren't expecting Wonwoo to show up.

Mingyu clears his throat, snapping the both of you out of your daze. Wonwoo moves to sit down on the empty seat beside Mingyu. "Wonwoo, this is y/n, my photography club partner. y/n, this is Wonwoo, my friend from the track-and-field club. I reckon the two of you don’t need me to introduce you guys though, y'all seem to know each other already."

"Yeah, he did get a good laugh out of me," you snarkily reply, earning a confused glance from Wonwoo. A good laugh? When did he ever laugh at you?

Mingyu glances between you and Wonwoo, and Wonwoo sees his eyes light up in realisation. "Oh, so he's the library-"

"Seokmin, what were you saying about hummingbirds earlier?" you cut Mingyu off with a glare, turning to Seokmin for a response.

The lunch goes by swimmingly, though Wonwoo feels himself getting more and more fidgety as he thinks of ways to bring up what you said about him earlier. He has never laughed at you once, and he was determined to get to the bottom of this situation.

"Hey, y/n-" it was like you expected Wonwoo to reach out to you, because you immediately slam your hands on the table and stand up the moment he opened his mouth.

"Sorry, guys, I just remembered I had to meet Minghao to work on an assignment, like, five minutes ago! I'll see y'all!" you blurt out hurriedly before jogging out of the cafeteria.

"y/n and Minghao don't even share any classes together," Mingyu raises an eyebrow. A deafening silence looms over the three remaining men. Seokmin whistles shortly after, breaking the silence.

"So..." he starts, leaning in Wonwoo's direction. "you're the library cutie-turned-asshole."

Wonwoo's eyes widen, but before he can say anything, Mingyu beats him to it. "Why did you laugh at them?"

"What? I never did! Where is this coming from?" Wonwoo replies in disbelief, brows furrowing together in confusion. Why was everyone accusing him of laughing at you?

Mingyu recounts the day Soonyoung joined Wonwoo in the library, but Wonwoo realises that the details Mingyu provides are damningly different.

"They said your friend said something to you while looking at them and you guys started laughing," Mingyu explains, "come on, man. They were really interested in you, too."

"No- wait, what? I wasn't laughing. And," Wonwoo runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, "Soonyoung was calling me out on my crush on them."

Another silence ensues. Seokmin and Mingyu side-eye each other very obviously, earning a sigh from Wonwoo. "They misunderstood, didn't they?"

"Well, it's not too late to make it right, I guess," Seokmin replies, pursing his lips together, "they're probably at the library right now."

Setting a cup of a chocolate chip frappuccino down on your table, Wonwoo pulls out the chair beside you and takes a seat. You remove your earphones, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I asked the guys what you like to drink," Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "chocolate chip frappuccino with oat milk and lots of whipped cream, right?"

"Why are you here, Wonwoo?" you deadpan monotonously, sending a shiver down Wonwoo's spine. This was a completely different you from before all this happened, but Wonwoo supposes you had every right to be upset considering the misunderstanding.

"I... I wanted to apologise. But I wasn't laughing at you, I swear! My friend was..." Wonwoo switches to a lower voice, "teasing me about my crush on you."

"Huh?" you reply, leaning closer. "Your friend was?"

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, willing himself not to freak out at the close proximity between the two of you as well as what he's about to admit. "I... have a crush on you. My friend realised, and he was laughing at me about it."

You don't say anything in reply, and Wonwoo looks up at you in fear. What he sees next, though, is something he'll never forget. In front of him sits a very, very flustered you, your ears red and your lips parted in shock at what you'd just heard. He resists the urge to take a picture, and resolves to memorising the look on your face in his head instead.

"y/n?" Wonwoo waves a hand in front of your face after a while, and you snap out of your trance, somehow turning even redder.

"I- I'm sorry, Wonwoo. I thought you were making fun of me," you look down in embarrassment, playing with your fingers. Wonwoo nearly coos at the sight, resisting the urge to take your hands in his.

"It's okay, y/n, I probably would have misunderstood too," Wonwoo chuckles, and you look up, shooting him that soft smile he'd missed so much. "though, I did hear from a certain 6 foot giant that you were interested in me."

You squeaked in surprise, eyes widening. He could practically hear your thoughts of 'bloody murder' through your eyes, which Wonwoo presumes to be directed at Mingyu.

"So," Wonwoo begins, staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I think you could make up for the misunderstanding by letting me take you on a date."

BONUS!

Wonwoo pushes the door to the library open, walking in with light steps. He locates you with ease, seated at your usual table with your nose deep in your books as usual. He smiles in endearment at the sight, walking over to take a seat at the table across from yours.

You look up at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, meeting Wonwoo's eyes. You furrow your eyebrows as he takes a seat at the table across from yours. Heaving a sigh, you leave your seat and go over to sit in front of him.

"Why are you sitting here?" you raise an eyebrow, waiting for his response. Wonwoo simply laughs.

"Nooooo," he whines a little, much to your surprise. "go back there."

You shoot a confused look at him but comply, returning to your seat. Upon settling down, you look up to see Wonwoo gazing at you with a lovingly soft smile, and you can't help but beam at him in return.

Wonwoo suddenly rises from his spot, walking over to take a seat in front of you.

"Hi," he begins, "I like you."

"What are you doing?" you giggle, absolutely endeared by his goofiness.

"I'm doing what I'd always wanted to do before we first talked to each other," Wonwoo explains, taking your hands in his.

"Happy anniversary, love."

a/n: hey hey! this is my first seventeen fic ever hehehe i hope it was decent!! (wonwoo and the library together really has me feeling some type of way)

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua

masterlist

[bones4thecats]

Their S/O Assists Them With Their Hair

Characters: Cater Diamond, Leona Kingscholar, Jamil Viper, and Idia Shroud Inspired By: The multiple cards A/N: I have been laying this off to the side for such a long time so I decided to finally write this. Also, I've been having a hard time with the border around the images, so I changed it. Anyways, have fun reading this!! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Nothing. Just pure fluff ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Cater Diamond ══════════════════════════╝

💎 Cater doesn't change his hair up very often, only making it different when he has special events such as performances for the music club

💎 One day, you received a text from Cater asking if you were going to their next concert the following week, in which you just smiled and replied with a happy yes

💎 You knew from Cater's many messages and calls from his club meetings that they were getting more and more excited and anxious for the day that it came and they would set up and play to their heart's content

💎 Over the passing week, everyone could see how happy the group was, and you had a front seat to it. Since Cater would send you photo and video after one and another of them having fun getting ready

💎 Then came the day

💎 Cater was beyond stressed out, scrolling through his feed to find the perfect hairstyle that he could use for that night, to which you sighed and laid back on his bed as he stressed

"Cater, Honey, are you sure you know what you don't want any help?"

"Yep! Just give me a minute. I'm sure I can find the perfect hairdo!"

💎 The sound of his shoes hitting the floor in a circular motion was giving you a headache, so after about four more minutes, you slapped your hands on the nearby table and told him to sit down

💎 Cater was shocked when you took his phone from his grip and secured it into your pants pocket before grabbing his shoulders and forcing him back on his butt

"Thankfully, Vil taught me enough during the time I spent helping with the VDC. Now, just sit down and relax, I'm sure I can figure something out quick."

💎 As you walked around the bathroom and grabbed multiple brushes and clips to hold his hair as your designed it, Cater watched memorized, you really were beautiful when helping others, weren't you?

💎 It took a mere ten extra minutes for you to decide and fix up his hair, making it into a shaggy-crop style. You smiled and kissed his forehead as he stood up and adjusted a couple light-up weave-like pieces and allowed rose his phone, which you gave back halfway through styling, and took a selfie of you and him

"Hashtag: 'Cay-Cay's S/O' , 'Cay-Cay Getting Ready' , and 'NRC Music Club BTS'. "

"Good luck, Cater."

"Thank you so much, Love Bug."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Leona Kingscholar ════════════════════════╝

🦁 He, unlike other beastman, doesn't enjoy having his hair touched. He does it a certain way and doesn't want it to be messed with like how his brother would do

🦁 This means that every time you would ask to style his hair, he would just open one eye, say no, and then lay down on you. Claiming you as his makeshift pillow for one of his many daytime naps

🦁 To actually get him to agree, you'd most likely have to either wait until a couple months into dating or marriage, and we all wanna know what his hair feels like, don't we?

🦁 Now, when you finally got to touch his hair, Leona had come back to his room drained from the long day. He had gone to all of his classes and then Magift practice. All without a single nap throughout the day

🦁 The guy had practically barreled onto the sheets of his bed after throwing his bag of dirty clothes on the ground. He groaned as you chuckled, opening your arms for him to lay down there

🦁 Thankfully, Leona had taken a shower already and was perfectly clean. Not a single drop of sweat on his body. Meaning he could be curled up on you without you trying to pull/push him to take a shower to get clean

"Leona?" You asked, your head moving from the book Leona gave you a couple weeks ago. He merely growled lowly before looking up and into your eyes and asking what you wanted.

"I was just wondering... if I could- y'know. Touch your hair? You don't have to let me, I understand if you wouldn't want me too!"

🦁 Leona smirked and reached up to take his hair out of the ponytail he lodged it into after showering earlier. His long brown locks dropping down, a slight amount of water there, he obviously was to tired to spend a ton of time drying it

"Have at it."

🦁 Smiling gently as you laid the book down, you began to move his hair around gently, using your fingers like a make-shift brush (did anyone else's mom/dad/guardian do that when they were young?) to get the small knocks out

🦁 After doing that, you began to rub his scalp, allowing him to relax and let out a very low purr, though it sounded more like a satisfied hum to you, and kissed your exposed thigh. He was thankful you were wearing shorts. (Though how could you NOT? It was like over 70 degrees in that dorm!)

"Do you feel better, Leo?" You asked, only to be met with the soft snores of your boyfriend.

🦁 His larger form was hugging you tightly as you chuckled and embraced him back, nudging a blanket on top of your both. He was a lot more than a mere second-born prince to you, he was your one and only prince, from now till the day you die

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jamil Viper ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 Jamil takes pride in his hair. It has always been one of the only things that he had full control over. Throughout his life he never got full control of anything, except for things like his hair (I know this is wordy, but you get the point)

🐍 Anyways. When you had asked him to do his hair, he was getting ready to cook for the remaining Scarabia members for the spring break. Some students volunteered to stay while others left, he and Kalim volunteered to stay, along with you

🐍 You noticed that he was having a hard time keeping it out of his face, so you excused yourself from the third year and walked into the kitchen

🐍 Jamil was getting more and more frustrated, he was so close to taking the scissors and snipping his ponytail off if it won't stop getting in his way. Thankfully, the sound of your chuckles made him look up and nervously look away, embarrassment was obvious in his expression

🐍 You smiled at him and told him to sit down as he began to put some ingredients away. You had been helping Jamil cook long enough to know that the food needed to simmer for a while, just long enough for you to help him out

"Jamil, would you like your hair completely out of your face? And not done by having it shaved... or cut by kitchen utensils?"

"...yeah."

🐍 Handing him your phone as your began to take his hair out of his ponytail, you told him to just hang out and let you do what you knew best: hair styling

🐍 As you meticulously placed his hair behind his head, Jamil felt relaxed, even more relaxed then ever before. You treated his hair with the amount of care that he did. It was admirable just how much you paid attention to his reactions as you worked

🐍 After maybe a couple minutes, you had patted his hair down and gave him a cheerful done before telling him to turn the camera on and put it in selfie-mode

🐍 He did as he said and was shocked. You did beyond amazing! His hair was completely out of his face, and he didn't look half bad. He had to admit, he needed to put his hair up like that more often when he worked

🐍 Jamil stood up and hugged you, his arms giving you a snug squeeze as you chuckled and kissed his jawline. He smiled and kissed your forehead before thanking you and handing you your phone back. Right before you left though, your boyfriend called your name and asked

"Would you like to help me cook?"

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Idia Shroud ════════════════════════════╝

🎮 This guy. Ho this guy

🎮 When you guys first began dating, he was very off-handed. He was not, and still really isn't a big fan of physical touch. He just doesn't like it that much

🎮 That doesn't mean he hates it, he just prefers to simply spend time together and give you things. He sucks with his words (he overthinks like me), he has a hard time with acts of service (he doesn't go out often, so he can't do much outside of his dorm), and he has a massive issue when touched. He just freezes and stutters a lot more than before

🎮 Idia does like it when you're physically affectionate sometimes. Like when you would lean your head on his shoulder whenever he gets frustrated with a level in a game he has been working on for days to calm him down. He likes that kind of stuff

🎮 So, whenever you would ask to mess with his hair, it goes from a beautiful blue to a campfire-like orange and red, the tips being flushed with pink like his face as he stuttered and mumbled

🎮 After the first couple times, you decided to lay loose and allow him to come to you whenever he wanted you to mess with his hair. It was his choice and his consent and comfort was just as important as your own

🎮 It only took maybe a couple weeks for him to begin wondering why you weren't asking to mess with his fiery locks. But, in true Idia Shroud fashion, the male strayed away from questioning you until the thought was all he could wonder about

"Hey... Y/N?"

"Yeah, Idia?"

"D-do you think, you could maybe... y'know... mess with my hair a bit?"

"What? Please repeat louder, honey."

"Damn it... could you mess with my hair please?"

🎮 You smiled and laid your phone on Idia's desk before he moved away from his gaming chair and sat down in front of you on the bed, continuing to play his game and groan about how the 'noobs were releasing more time camping and not acting as aggro against the boss like he was'

🎮 It was funny how much gamer lingo Idia used when he was outside of class-related situations. But it was quite funny when he then began to speak of how 'op the boss was and how the rest of the players needed to get off their buts and act like true FPSs and help him defeat the bullet sponge of a boss'

(Yes I looked up gamer terms, I am dumb T^T)

🎮 You just chuckled as his face went from petrified as he ran from danger to reload his weaponry to coming up with the most determined expression you had ever seen on him. Playing these games really made him feel better than he was outside speaking to others

🎮 It lasted maybe a couple hours before Idia finally noticed you weren't playing with his long hair anymore. So, he looked up and saw you laying down asleep on his bed, one of his larger hoodies was around your top and he couldn't help but smile gently as you snoozed

🎮 He decided that he was going to lay down on the bed to, not to sleep, but to get a more comfortable angle to play in. So, he stood up and got on the bed, pulling the sheets down and over your arms and his legs before looking back at his phone, noticing it was in camera mode. He must've hit the button at the bottom as he secured his spot

🎮 Idia gasped quietly as he saw how you did his hair. It was like a mixture of multiple braids with a single thicker braid behind. The housewarden couldn't help but smile and laugh like the little dork he was

🎮 After the little giggly fit, Idia looked at you and shut off his phone before laying down next to you, holding your arm as you shuffled onto your back. He smiled and closed his eyes. If you did something so nice to him, he could at least get maybe a couple hours of sleep for you

(I have so much Idia brainrot right now it's insane)

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo.

You're a Fucking Dickhead

12 Days of Christmas Prompt: Soulmate | Word Count: 1894 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Steve | Tags: Soulmate AU, College AU, Modern AU, Meet Cute, Or: Meet Ugly, Soulmarks, Invisible Strings, Hijinks Ensue, The Universe Had to Work Overtime on These Two

I actually got assigned the prompt "soulmates" on both of my Christmas and New Year's bingo cards. Instead of trying to double-up, I decided to just make them companion pieces. Here are the links to both:

Part 1: Steve POV | Part 2: Eddie POV | Also on AO3

They are intended so they could be read standalone, but I wrote Steve's first, so I suggest starting here if you want to read both.

Steve pushes his sleeves up, realizes, and pushes them right back down despite it being sweltering in this auditorium. As much as he prides himself on being confident in his own skin, on being exactly who he is, no apologies, this little three inch line of text scrawled on his arm is the bane of his whole existence. He hates it. 

Robin glances over at him, and gives him a raised eyebrow. Yeah, yeah. He had promised he would cut it out once they were at college, but fuck, old habits die hard. He's only a senior. Maybe he'll go to grad school and he can stop hiding his arm then. Plenty of time.

"I know," he hisses at her, and he's told himself over and over that someday he won't care. That someday he'll just let it all hang out. So what if his so called soulmate is out there somewhere waiting to meet him, only to say: You're a fucking dickhead!

Yeah, sign him up for that. Not.

No matter who it is, Steve isn't interested. He's going tell them to fuck right off. If he ever meets them. He hasn't yet, and he's not exactly frothing at the bit to do it soon.

He focuses back on the professor, and he's almost made it through undergrad. Six more weeks. He can do this.

"A frat party? Steve. No," Robin says, and Steve is just nodding.

"Steve, yes," he says, smiling wide. "We'll get some bathtub punch, maybe bum a joint. C'mon. Maybe we'll even get laid."

"Dingus, the odds of me getting laid at a frat party are negative seventy-five thousand."

"Then let me get laid. Rob, please. For me," and he gives her the eyes. They always work, and he spins around after she reluctantly nods her consent to his plan. 

"You've gotten laid plenty," she argues.

"That's patently untrue," he lies. "I'm in a dry spell."

"It's been four days."

"It gets mighty cold at night," he says, and she laughs and pushes him, but she'll go.

He might not have good soulmate prospects, but he does have the best best friend a guy could ask for, and his charm, which he's applied liberally all up and down the eastern seaboard.

So, yeah. Tonight is gonna be awesome, he just knows it.

Tonight is not awesome, Steve thinks, as he's shoved so hard he stumbles. The guy is bigger than him, but honestly just caught him off guard. Steve doesn't know what the fuck his problem is. It's a party. They're supposed to be having fun. But this? This is not fun.

All Steve did is walk by, and now he's fucking stumbling like he's drunk, which unfortunately he is not since he hasn't even had one drink yet, but his balance is already a distant memory. He catches his shin on the edge of a coffee table, and that really fucking smarts. Then, he's going down. There's no other possibility. No way to catch himself.

"Goddamn, fuck you, motherfucker!" Steve shouts, sliding over the table on his knees, tipping over cups and bottles, knocking everything in his path off to the hardwood floor with a clatter, before finally coming to a stop with a thud on top of the person sitting on the couch. That's fucking embarrassing.

"You're a fucking dickhead!" The guy under him laughs while patting Steve's back, and it sounds amused, not angry. But those words. Those are his words. Steve freezes. But not for long, because he's unceremoniously being shifted and dumped into the lap of the guy on the right. 

Big blue eyes, and a mop of curls, looking down at him, asking, "What'd you say?"

"Huh?" Steve asks, trying to right himself.

Oh. The guy — his soulmate? — wasn't talking to him. He was talking to the guy who shoved him.

"What did you say when you literally fell in Eddie's lap?" he asks.

Eddie. His soulmate's name is Eddie. Steve has no fucking clue what he said, but he's guessing that whatever it is, it's scrawled somewhere on Eddie's body and his friend here knows that. 

Steve's ignoring ol' blue eyes, and trying to turn to get another glimpse of Eddie, to see what he's doing, to see if he's gonna fight for his honor or some shit.

He's not fighting, but he does have the guy in a headlock. But they're both laughing. What the fuck is happening right now?

"What the fuck, Goods? You just laid that poor guy out, say you're sorry," Eddie is telling the dude who shoved him. Who looks far less scary with his head tucked under Eddie's armpit. He's all red-faced and curly-headed, squirming, but looking amused. 

"I'm sorry," the shover laughs out, and Steve is still trying to slide off the other guy's lap. "It was an instinct! A remnant from high school. Get bullied, push back, that's what you always said!"

His supposed soulmate knows the asshole that knocked him clean off his feet for no good reason? Well, that's just great. Very promising. He knew he was in for a bad time with the words alone, and now he's been knocked clean off his feet, and not in a good way.

"He was bullying you?" Eddie asks, face looking serious.

"I was not!" Steve says. He's never even seen this guy before. He walked by him in the crowded room, and then was shoved.

"He stepped on my foot!" 

Eddie laughs, "He stepped on your foot, so you shoved him in my lap?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd mind!"

"What's going on here?! I just went to the bathroom, there wasn't even a line!" Robin screeches. "Now Steve is sitting in Gareth's lap? How do you know Gareth? You can't sleep with Gareth!" Robin is rambling, talking with her hands, flailing and fluttering with all her might. 

How do you know Gareth? Steve thinks. 

She's all worked up. Well, she can join the club.

"I'm fine. We're fine, I think? I'm not sleeping with Gareth?" Steve says, but his voice trails upward, unsure. 

"Not a question. Absolutely not. No offense," Gareth says, and well, that's kinda rude.

"Look what you've done, now you've made his girlfriend mad," Eddie says, still not releasing the guy who caused this whole situation. 

"Ew, gross. Not my boyfriend," Robin says, way too fast. 

"She's a lesbian," Gareth says, and Steve wants to wheel on him. Gareth better not have a problem with that, but Steve can only fight one battle at a time, and Robin offending him always takes precedence.

"Don't be so disgusted," Steve complains, and then turns to look back at Gareth, "Same for you. I'm a catch."

"Do you still have a dick?" Robin asks, her go-to response in this situation. He knows the script.

"What she said," Gareth adds.

"I still have a dick," he confirms quietly.

"Well, we're all glad to hear it," Eddie says, finally letting his friend go. 

Another guy walks up, looks between all of them, "What's going on?"

"Jeff?" Robin questions.

Robin knows Jeff? Who's Jeff?

"Hey, Robin," Jeff says

"How do you know Jeff and Gareth?" Steve asks, whoever the fuck they are, but he's being ignored.

 "Oh, Jeff, you picked the exact worst time to wander off. Short story: Goodie pushed this guy—"

"Goodie's here, too?" Robin interrupts.

Gareth keeps talking, "—and get this, turns out, this dude is Eddie's soulmate."

Eddie turns his head, "What'd you say? Gareth, why do you think…" he trails off, and then looks down at his arm.

"You're Goddamn, Fuck You, Motherfucker?" Jeff asks, as if that's Steve's legal name.

Steve laughs, "Well, I prefer Steve, but I'll answer to anything, I guess."

Everybody laughs.

"Jeff, help me. Eddie tried to take my head off my neck," Goodie complains. Which, honestly, the nerve. He started this whole fiasco. Steve was minding his own goddamn business.

"You pushed my soulmate. You got off easy, my child," Eddie says, circling Goodie, clearly teasing him. 

Eddie. Gareth. Goodie. Jeff. Steve's putting these names to faces, because he's afraid it might all be important later. Maybe forever. 

These people are a circus and a rodeo all rolled into one. 

He feels sick to his stomach. In a good way? A bad way? He isn't sure. All this time, and he still somehow wasn't ready for it. This scenario wasn't even in his wildest of dreamed up scenarios. Yeah, he got pushed. But his proposed soulmate doesn't appear to be a total dickhead either. 

"Let me see," Steve says quietly, a demand more than a question, and Eddie stops what he was doing, stepping closer. His arm is right out there, uncovered, for all the world to see. And that's for sure his own handwriting.

Goddamn, fuck you, motherfucker!

Plain as day.

Steve reaches out and brushes his thumb against Eddie's mark, and suddenly he feels like he's riding lightning.

"Holy shit," Eddie says.

"Uh, yeah," Steve answers. 

"Wanna get out of here?" Eddie asks, and Steve is nodding before Eddie's finished asking. 

His body feels warm.

But Robin, "I'm with Robin. I need to-"

"Nope, dingus. Go. I'll ride with Jeff. Or Gareth. Or Goodie," she says. "I can take my pick. I know them all."

"How do you know Jeff, Gareth and Goodie?" Steve asks, because he feels like he's losing his mind.

Jeff waves. So the other two follow suit.

"Jeff and I have had like a thousand classes together," Robin says, and Jeff is nodding in agreement. "We studied together all last year. Do you not recall all the, 'I'm going to study at Jeff's' that I said, week after week?"

Steve shakes his head. He does not.

"You were in our house! All the time!" Eddie says, pointing at Robin. "I have seen you before! I knew you looked familiar!" 

"Yeah, obviously," she says, rolling her eyes, "Anyway. Gareth's in my film class. And Goodie's in the marching band."

Steve feels like he's going insane. He got pushed by a marching band geek? Then there's Eddie, his soulmate, and apparently Robin's just been running in Eddie's whole goddamn circle without his knowledge. What? How?

He can't. Not right now. He needs to process this later. Maybe with a flow chart pointing out all the invisible strings that have been forming, trying to connect them.

"You'll get her home safe?" Steve asks, because that's all that matters.

"They will," Eddie assures, and puts his palm in the middle of Steve's back. Steve can feel it even through his shirt.

Steve looks back at Robin, slightly helpless. 

She takes a step forward, "If you don't-"

"I do," he interrupts, "I do."

He really does.

"Gross, go then," she says, holding up her hands, and when Eddie takes a step forward to lead them out, he goes.

Steve sneaks looks at Eddie as they make their way through the crowded house. He's pretty. Not what he'd expected, not that he'd ever really had a good mental picture of what his soulmate might look like. He'd been too focused on the harsh words, that he hadn't tried to form them into a real person.

Eddie's real.

He's so fucking real.

They step out into the night, and Eddie stops on the sidewalk, meeting Steve's eyes, smiling wide, "Your place or mine?"

Read Eddie's POV next.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun! 💞

Notes: I don't think I've written soulmates before, so I'm not sure if I've stayed with the trope or veered into left field, but I know I had fun with this one. I loved the idea that their first words in each other's presence would be something so unhinged, lol. And Goodie shall never let either of them forget that their soulmarks were spoken to him not each other.

[chilumi-shipper]

My Favorite Girl (2)

Arataki Itto x Shrine Maiden!Fem!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of My Favorite Girl, you unexpectedly return, missing everything and everybody. You want to make things clear, does he still love you? And do you still love him?

Tags: Two lines with curses, Bullying in work place, Angst to Fluff

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Itto remained seated by the docks, similar to how his days ended the past month. The burning ache of your departure never left him, in fact, it has only gotten worse, your lack of presence making itself known to him and a certain mini-sized bull.

Two months.

You've been gone two months, double the time you said you were gonna spend on Watatsumi Island. All his prayers to see a boat containing you had been ignored, much like the letters he sent to you while you were gone.

"Hey, babe! How's the job treating you?"

"I know you'll ace this job like you always do! What is it that Shrine Maidens do specifically that they have to switch locations? Well anyway, you'll do so good, you probably won't even need a full month to finish the job."

"Looooveee, don't let Ushi warm your side of the bed for too long, okay? His sleep moos are kinda annoying, ya know? Ohh, crap! He caught me writing you a letter!" This particular letter had a bite mark and a hoof print of the sleep moo-er.

"So... I don't know how to start this up without sounding like a total jerk, but... Well, first I wanna say happy birthday! Very very late happy birthday..." This letter was quite long, yet it received no reaction.

"You haven't returned any of my letters yet, which is totally okay if you're too busy! But I just wanna know if you're okay... I really miss you, Ushi misses you, the gang too! It been a little bit over a month, waiting for you~ I love youu." This letter was signed by each member of the Arataki Gang, each with their own little message.

A few letters of concern goes by, no response.

"It's been two months, my darling... When are you coming back home?" He wrote this one drunk and in tears, the feeling of missing you sinking deeper and deeper into his gut, not letting him shrug off the feeling like he did before.

"Boss! Look what I found in your mail!" The loud shout of Akira irritated the many people at the docks of Ritou, but it did its job of catching the oni's attention.

Itto turned to see the gang running up yo him. "Hey! You can't just go through my mail like that! What if you accidentally open ones for Y/N? She'd kill ya!"

"Yeah, I know, boss. But I actually got this from the mail delivery before it reached your house, sooo... this isn't your mail yet..." Akira remarked, proudly showing off his loophole.

Kuki Shinobu rolled her eyes before urging him, "Go on then, show him."

The Akira, Mamoru, and Genta excitedly showed Itto the letter in Akira's hands. "From Miss Y/N herself! Ohhh, is our Honorary Maiden about to return? We must rejoice!" Genta exclaimed, hyping up the other members too. Ushi himself couldn't keep his little body from jumping in joy.

"Looks like we don't have to go to Watatsumi for a grand Arataki rescue mission."

"Yeah, hmmm... I was kinda excited about that though."

"Now, hold on..." Shinobu broke their thrilled conversation. "We haven't even read the letter."

"Shinobu's right. Maybe... she just wants to say there's nothing to worry about, and she'll be staying there longer..." The hopeless voice coming from the oni, perhaps preparing for dissapointment, didn't go unnoticed. The gang noticed the change in attitude their leader has been having a few weeks after you left, getting worse with each passing day without you.

"Aww, boss, don't be like that! I'm sure Miss Y/N's had enough of Watatsumi now, she's probably preparing to head home right now." Mamoru attempted to comfort his boss, but Itto has told himself the same so many times that he feels like he can no longer hold the statement in a high regard.

Ushi softly pushed Itto's ankle with his hoof, urging him to open the letter.

"I apologize, my dear. This letter may be long overdue, but I want to let you know that I am doing just fine, there is nothing to worry about. I will be returning in just a short while, I trust that Ushi has kept my side of the bed warm for me, hehehe. To the Arataki Gang, I missed you all as well, I look forward to seeing you. And as for my beloved, Itto, let's talk once I'm there."

"She's really coming back home!" Everyone celebrated, but Itto's mind started spinning.

The most terrifying words... "Let's talk..." without a hint of emotion.

He looked at the letter once again...

Not even an I love you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Itto didn't expect the "returning in just a short while" to be just a few hours after he received the letter.

But when he found the door of your shared home open, you were standing visibly inside with your luggage laying on the ground, he could only stand in shock.

He has been dreaming of your return for the past month, but he hasn't exactly thought about how he was gonna greet you, he wasn't even sure whether you were still upset about how he treated you then.

"Y/N..." He whispered the name of the love of his life into the air, being loud enough to just about graze your ears.

You turned to look at him, and immediately, your heart fluttered at the sight. The ever so idiotically dashing man you think is still yours. Your heart sunk at the thought, opting to smile at him instead.

"Itto... Am I still welcome here?" There's a pain constantly in your chest when you think of him. Is his home still your home? Have you been thoroughly replaced? Did you absence spark something between him and a certain ninja you know?

"What are you-" The oni started of confused. "Of course you're welcome here! This is your home, did you think Ushi clamed your ownership entirely? He only took up the bed, but that's it, really." You giggled at his remark, finding it easy to talk to him still.

"It's just that you probably didn't expect me to come back now. My letter was pretty late, as I've heard." You reasoned as you look around, seeing that practically nothing has changed from when you left.

"Well, you wanted to talk, so let's save that for later, why don't we?" Itto picked up all of your luggage, reminding you of his pride of not making two trips just to transport something, prompting you to smile as you nodded at his suggestion.

Your smile lit up the house he found so lonely while you were gone, so naturally, he noticed you smiling at him, and it brought a light feeling to his heart. "What? Missed your strong oni carrying everything for you?"

Your oni... Is he really?

Your smile faded a bit, but you made sure to catch yourself so he wouldn't notice, "Yeahh, I really did..."

...

"So you're the maiden from Narukami right? The one in love with an oni?" You caught the condecending tone of another Shrine Maiden as she spoke to you.

You decided to ignore the way she spoke to you. "Yes, that's right! How can I be of assistance?"

"Mind throwing this to the garbage, just some useless junk mail." She placed a sizable amount of crumbled and shredded paper onto your hands. "Thanks." After giving you the most ungrateful thanks, she walked away giggling with her friend.

You merely sighed, heading for the trash can, pouring the paper in the bin. Just as you were about to walk away, you noticed something on the paper... Ushi's signiture hoof print.

With a gasp, you grabbed it and read the letter that was at such a sorry state. The letter was light hearted, yet when you read it, you almost broke down right next to the garbage. You scooped up the rest of the paper you just threw away and hurriedly ran back to your quarters. Most of the letters are in pieces, but you still needed to see what they say.

After two months in Watatsumi, you only received their letters then.

...

You're finally back home, the suffocating air the Watatsumi Shrine Maidens breathe no longer in your lungs. You took another look of the house as Itto carried your things into your shared room.

In a tired manner, you sat down on the couch, and Ushi immediately took a seat next to you. "Hello, my little bull..." You cooed affectionately, patting his head, which he all responded to positively.

Everything is where it should be... so normal and so familiar.

"Darling! I have a surprise for you! I almost forgot since, ya know, you came unex-" Itto's excited voice and enthusiastic movements halted when he saw you sitting down on the couch. "Y/N...?"

Your head was down, small sobs came from your throat, and he can tell that you're trying yo hold them in. You curled up into a ball, sobs getting louader as you can no longer hold such a pain in your heart.

"Itto, please... I need you..." At your call, the oni dropped his gift to the ground and hurried to your side before pulling you to his chest. "Let me stay here..."

"Love, it's okay... I'm right here. And you can stay right here too." He kissed the top of your head, rubbing you shoulder to calm you down.

"Don't leave me all alone. Do-Don't forget about me..." You were begging, clinging onto him. Hoping he wouldn't walk out the door without a thought.

You wrapped your arms around him, sitting on his lap before burrying your face on his neck. The concerned oni didn't completely understand, but he understood that you needed him, so he's going to be there, he isn't leaving you alone in your home this time.

...

"Feeling better?" With a grin, Itto placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. The sight of you nodding left him feeling relieved.

"I'm right here, darling, alright?"

"Do you still love me?" The oni was shocked by the suddenness of your question. You looked at him, expecting an answer.

After composing himself, Itto stood in front of you at the dinner table, giving you the same look. "I fucking love you too much for you to start questioning my love."

"But you gave me a reason to... question it..." You pointed out sheepishly.

The man you love sighed, "I know, and I'm hoping... if you let me, I can make up for that..." He then proceeded to place a gift in front of you, right next to the hot chocolate.

"My very very late birthday present?" You gestured at the gift with a smile.

You felt in your heart that... you should trust his words, to let him prove his love. So you will.

"So you did receive my letters..." He teased right back.

"It's a long story..." You sighed, looking at the present in front of you.

"And I'll be hapy to hear it, love. Because I will always be here." Itto walked up to you and proceeded to wipe the lone tear that fell from your eye.

You stood up and jumped at him, hugging him immediately. "I'm really sorry, Itto... I shouldn't have left."

Tears yet again fell to your cheeks, "But when you forgot about my birthday, about our special day... about me..." You recalled the many nights you spent without him by your side.

"It made me... questionn your love..."

The love of your life hugged you back, letting you lean on his chest. "Then let me ask you now... Do you still love me?"

You chuckled against him.

"I fucking love you too much for you to start questioning my love." He couldn't help but let out the biggest grin when you said that.

The oni let go of you, before bringing the gift to your attention. "Since you love me so much, you'll let me take you out on a date and wear this, right?"

As he opened the box, you saw a necklace with a pendant that in a shape of a bull... he knows you too well. Yes, this is the beautiful jade necklace, it is made out of jade, soooo...

You hear a moo at the your feet, making you look down. "Oh, and here comes Ushi." Itto bantered with the idea of him and the bull being competitors for your love.

Ushi presented to you a wilting flower, along with the purest eyes you can see on a bull.

"Ohh, my sweet darling, thank you so much!"

Itto scoffed, "He literally plucked it out of the neighbor's garden, he almost cried when he was being shouted at."

"Ahh, Ushi has faced such a great trial for this flower, I appreciate it even more."

As the two compete for your love just like old times, the hot chocolate on the table goes cold.

...

"Uh, Shinobu..." The boat of the rest of the Arataki Gang docked at Watasumi Island. "What are we doing here again?" Mamoru questioned the green haired girl.

"Apparently, there's a problem about receiving mail in the Sangonomiya Shrine, and that's why Miss Y/N took so long to get back home." Kuki Shinobu clarified. "Miss Yae asked us to take care of it. Think of this as part of the rescue mission you were talking about."

"Yeahh, alright! Let's kick some mail troblemakers butts!" Akira exclaimed.

"Yep, that's exactly what Miss Yae asked for. This is probably the only Shrine Maiden related thing I like, except for Miss Y/N, of course."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

After a year with no update...

I was done with a lot of things on my plate (thankfully) so I thought, why not pick up an old project :3

Thanks so much for everyone's patience, for waiting for part 2 of this story for such a long time, I appreciate you guys (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Tags: @l0diluvs @iiyumii @lockem @t4m3-simp @eliciana @freezombielover

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door ~ Part 1

A Constantine x Reader fic based on this imagine.

Summary: John Constantine has a crush on you. He wasn’t going to do anything about it though, until you strong arm him into coming over for dinner. Little do you know, this paints a target on your back for the local vampire coven… (I had to write something sweet for my mental health y'all 😆) Rating: Explicit, NSFW, but no dead doves...😮

You are the very archetype of The Girl Next Door. Well, literally. John Constantine lives in 202, and you in 204. You share a wall, and occasionally, he sort of smiles at you when you meet in the hall.

Like tonight, as your arms are full of groceries, returning home after work. You don’t know what he does exactly, but you assume it’s the same for him, though he is only clutching a brown bag that very poorly disguises a bottle of scotch.

“Hi, John,” you say brightly over a proud sprig of celery sticking out of your bag. It’s almost a running joke between the two of you, your sunny brightness aimed at him like a weapon.

There’s a long pause, like always, before he finally answers reluctantly in his deep monotone, “Hi, y/n. Bye, y/n.”

Before you can engage him any further he disappears into his apartment, closing the door hard behind him, the slam in the air like an exclamation point. You stare for a moment at the space where he’d just been, tall, handsome, his suit rumpled, that tie half undone around his neck. He looked like he’d had a rough day, whatever he does.

He dresses like a professional something, but imagining that man as a door to door salesman with his attitude is laughable, and so is the thought of him working amicably in an office setting.

You go inside and put away your groceries, then spread out what you need to make dinner. It’s Friday night, and you’ve had a long week too. You are making comfort food—it’s kind of a shame to eat it alone.

Half an hour later, while the sauce simmers, you find you just can’t stop thinking about that man next door. He seems lonely, every time you see him. There is something about him that just makes you want to wrap him up in a hug.

He’d probably push you off if you tried, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a hug.

The thing is…you have this thing. He pretends like you annoy him, but sometimes in the hall, or down in the lobby when you’re collecting your mail, you catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not looking. And the look on his face is never exactly lecherous, like you’re used to with most men who eye-fuck you on the street. His look is more…just…lost, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

You’re sure he’ll say no, but your feet seem to carry you of their own accord, when you find yourself at his door, knocking loudly.

Some time passes and you hear him grumbling on the other side before he jerks open the portal just a crack. “Yeah?”

“I’m making my Nonna’s meatballs and marinara for dinner.”

“Good for you?”

“From scratch.”

“Sounds time consuming.”

“Want to join me?”

There is a very long pause, in which he just looks at you. You can tell he’s at least one drink in already; you smell the fumes on his breath. And maybe it’s stupid, and you’re asking for trouble you don’t need, but the thought that that will be this man’s only dinner squeezes your heart.

Finally, he answers with a question. “Why?”

“Why not?”

This, amusingly, seems to actually flummox him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. In the end he narrows his eyes at you, (those lovely brown eyes, you can’t help but notice), like you’re trying to trick him into something truly heinous.

It’s…kind of funny, truth be told, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning. “Come on. I know you can smell it.” Your door is wide open.

“Maybe I don’t like Italian food.”

“Everyone likes Italian food.”

“Maybe you’re a terrible cook.”

“Only one way to find out.”

He actually growls a little, which for some reason gives you a thrill to the base of your spine.  

You really need to get back to stir the sauce. You didn’t anticipate getting this far in the conversation (argument?) with him, honestly.

“Well, door’s open,” you tell him, turning to go. You throw one last little come-hither look over your shoulder, to find he is definitely staring at your ass. Or, glaring, more like.

Maybe you have a screw loose, but you find this adorable.

You go back to your sauce, and lose yourself in the preparation of the other ingredients, watching the pasta to make sure it doesn’t boil over, checking that the meatballs aren’t burning. (Your oven is a dinosaur from the 1970s, and sometimes the temp spikes for no reason).

You are about to drain the pasta, when you find a tall, rumpled man standing beside your rickety thrift store table, looking a bit confused as to how he’d ended up there. He looks so big in your shoebox of an apartment, and if you’re being honest, maybe there’s a little bit of lust tied up with your desire to mother this man.

You offer him a welcoming smile, and for a moment, you swear he looks like he’s drowning.

“Glad you could make it,” you say somewhat teasingly.

“Can I…help?” He says the last word like it’s a completely alien thing to him.

“I’ve pretty much got it under control…” you say, which is mostly true. You peruse the sparse offerings of your 3 slot wine rack, picking a $6 bottle of Chilean red blend. “Want to open this?” The face he makes looking down at the decidedly weaker-than-whiskey beverage is almost comical, but he takes the corkscrew from you as you transfer the meal to serving bowls and put glasses of water on the table.

He removes his suit jacket at the table, rolling his sleeves up over muscular forearms that are, if you’re being honest, totally distracting. After you sit down you fill your plates, and the first few minutes of the meal goes by in semi-awkward silence.

Surprisingly, it’s John who speaks first. “This is really good,” he admits begrudgingly, and you utterly fail to damper your I-told-you-so smile.

“Thanks.”

You make halting small talk. You get the feeling he doesn’t chat much with anyone, of his own free will. When you ask him how his week was, his simple answer is, “Hell.”

You have no idea he’s being literal.

You ask him what he does, and he tells you he’s a sort of private detective, and he can’t really talk about it. He asks what you do, more to get the conversation off of him than anything. You let it go, for now, telling him that you’re a receptionist at an office building for a mega corporation downtown.

“Fitting,” he grumbles, you think because of your innate cheerfulness.

You feel the urge to tell him that half the time it’s just a thing you wear like armor—but you don’t know each other that well yet.

As you loosen up a little with food and more wine, he slowly asks more questions about you, where you’re from, what do you do in your free time, and maybe it’s stupid, but you feel like he’s actually kind of interested in your answers.

You enlist him to help you with the dishes, and as you stand together at the sink you bump him playfully with your hip. He peers down at you, his dark hair in his eyes. He is so tall, and there is a hint of a smile on his lips now. For him, it’s like a full-on toothy grin, and it doesn’t fail to quicken your heart in your chest.

Constantine can’t help but feel…puzzled, by you. Yes, you’re his cute neighbor, who teasingly likes to hail him in the hallway. And maybe he does look forward to the way your eyes sparkle, when he begrudgingly acknowledges you before retreating to the safety of the quiet solitude of his apartment. But you are so…nice. He can just tell, and he has no idea what a girl like you might want with a degenerate demon hunter like him. There are enough assholes in L.A. who would be happy to take you out. Why would you waste your time chasing him down?

And there is that smaller nagging voice in the back of his head. You are damned, and you don’t deserve her.

Fuck if it doesn’t make him want to touch you even more.

Later, he will look back on this as a moment of weakness. You, looking up at him with your big eyes, like you're old friends. You made him feel, for a fleeting moment, like he wasn't some doomed asshole with nothing to live for. Like he was an actual person. A man who could matter, to someone. Maybe even to you.

When you splash him with a flick of dishwater after he insults your favorite TV show he narrows his eyes down at you, and you get the fluttery feeling that he might like to eat you a moment before he cups your cheek in his big hand and catches your lips in a kiss. It’s everything you’d hoped for, even if you never actually expected it to really happen. Maybe the wine helped? Or maybe…he likes you? Luckily you get over your surprise, standing on tiptoe to meet him, looping your arms around his neck.

You yip with surprise when suddenly he lifts you to sit on the sink, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. “Was getting a crick in my neck…”

Your answering laugh is shaky at best. “Sorry.”

“Is this why you invited me over?”

“Sort of?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, waiting for further explanation. You reach up to toy with his collar, tracing the line of his loosened tie, totally distracted by the shape of his collarbone and what’s bared of his neck. This man has a jawline that looks like it was sculpted from stone. There’s no shortage of beautiful people in L.A., of course, but you’ve never met anyone quite like him. He doesn’t seem vain, an oddity in this town, but underneath his rumpled suit this man definitely has the physique of a movie star. You try not to dwell on how odd it is, that he would choose to spend his Friday night with you.

“I mean, I’m definitely not complaining,” you offer with a sly little smile.

However, his answering expression is nothing less than stern.

“I’m warning you now, sweetheart. I’m not boyfriend material, and I’m not going to be your project.”

Even if both of those things may have crossed your mind, your thoughts are too hazy with lust from his lips on yours. Maybe he’s a grouch…but he’s a great kisser.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

He kisses you again, and you melt even more under his exacting touch. Those mitts for hands make you feel small, and you arch against him as they travel the ladder of your ribcage to your spine.

The wine was good, but you know you are mostly drunk on him.

Then he is lifting you again, like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the couch. You settle down into the worn vintage cushions and make-out like teenagers, all lips and teeth and pawing hands.

You’re the one who actually initiates something further, pulling off your shirt, and John blinks as he takes in the swathes of your bare skin. He glares at your lacy bra like it owes him money, and you can’t help but laugh breathily. You haven’t felt thishappy in a long time, truth be told.

“Something funny?” he asks, nipping at your neck. With a flick of his fingers your bra falls away, and your breasts are in his hands, and you forget how to speak intelligibly. With his lips on your nipples you manage to loosen his tie without strangling him, unbuttoning his shirt with an increasing desperation. You sigh when at last the bare skin of your torsos is pressed together, his weight pressing you down into the couch.

It occurs to you, how small your couch is, and this man is definitely over six feet tall. “Would you prefer…the bed?” you ask between kisses.

“Up to you.”

You nod, but find you can’t really stop kissing him long enough to move. You can feel the impressive length of him through his pants and yours, aligned with your center and you dry grind, thinking even that is wonderful. He, however, lets out a frustrated growl, and pulls you to your feet again.

Dizzy with desire, you lead him by the hand to your bedroom, and you make it there eventually between kisses and shedding the rest of your clothing. His thick fingers between your legs are a marvel. “So fucking wet for me,” he groans, and it’s too embarrassing to admit, but sometimes after seeing him in the hallway you’ve fantasized about something like this going down, and it always leaves you soaked.

“I…like you,” you admit, moaning as a second finger finds its way inside you, his thumb circling your clit.

“I still don’t get that,” he admits, but kisses you hard before you really have a chance to answer. It would be a little too crazy, to tell him right now that you’ve always just felt pulled towards him, like the Universe was giving you a nudge any time you saw him. He’d laugh at you, or he’d leave, and either of those at this point would be unbearable.

You are close already under his masterful touch, and you whine even as you flex your hips, all your muscles tightening in anticipation.

“Don’t make me cum yet,” you beg. “I want you.”

He groans in response to that, desperately pawing through the pockets of his pants on the floor for a condom. You watch with stars in your eyes, propped on your elbows as he rips open the packet and rolls it on that impressive length, your lip between your teeth. You feel empty while looking at him like this, longing to be filled to the brim.

There is a moment of raw eye contact between you that sears your soul, as he pulls you to the edge of the bed with those large hands on your thighs. For a fleeting second he looks almost vulnerable. It’s there and gone like a ripple in a pool, then his thick tip is at your entrance, and he is slowly pushing himself inside you.

It’s better than you ever dreamed, and you arch against him, moaning as he works inside.

“Fuck you are tight,” he pants in your ear, your walls clenching around him, seeming to fight him even as they crave the relief of his big cock stretching you out. You breathe deeply, easing him in. When at last he bottoms out inside you, your head rocks back behind your shoulders, blissed out.

“God, you feel good.”

This man actually snorts at the comment, though his voice is pure gravel, rough with need. “He wouldn't appreciate you saying it about me.”

Your laugh is half moan. 

“What, are you on a first name basis?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

You're not sure what to make of that, and you're too cock drunk to even begin to reason it out.

He can tell you're a nice girl. Or at least, that's his perception of you. So he doesn’t bend you at impossible angles or whisper filthy things in your ear. Really, there's no time for it. Just pure vanilla missionary in your sweet little snatch is more than enough to slake his need tonight. He fucks you on your back, his thumb on your clit as he glides in and out of your tight little pussy, your legs wrapped around his narrow hips.

Your pleasure builds in the cradle of your hips, wound so tight you feel like you'll either die, or fly. Usually...alright, it's never like this for you the first time with someone. There's always fumbling, and awkwardness, and half the time, if you're honest, a faked orgasm because you're too shy or too embarrassed to ask for what you really need from a new partner, afraid he’ll think you’re too much trouble. 

Well, that is not what is happening tonight. Tonight, John is taking care of you, and you can hardly believe your luck. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yeah.” Your reply is breathy, and you almost laugh just for the pure, unexpected joy you feel in that moment. “Oh, John...” Your ability to say real words escapes you as your body erupts with scintillating pleasure spreading through your loins. You actually scream, and the fierce clench of your cunt around him brings him too. He loses himself with a groan, his face buried in the curve of your shoulder as he shudders against you.

Afterwards, you are laying against his broad chest, his heartbeat a steady drum in your ear. You don't know it, but this is not something John Constantine usually does. Snuggling. But you are sweet and soft in his arms, and he can't quite bring himself to vacate the premises just yet. In fact, he's so comfortable that he dozes, and you follow close behind him.

In the middle of the night you wake to kisses on your neck and caresses down your curvy side. You sigh, arching into him. You feel his manhood at the seam of your buttocks, his thick head kissing your hole.

“Fuck. Sorry,” he whispers with a shuddering sigh, rolling over to reach for his pants again. How many condoms did he bring? The fact that he's not careless with you, even in the sleepy haze of the early morning second round, is incredibly endearing to you. How many times have you had to insist, and been made to feel like an uncool bitch for not wanting to risk pregnancy or disease in the heat of the moment?

Maybe it's utterly insane, but you're half in love already as he hauls you on top of him, his cock freshly capped with a new Trojan Magnum.

You are still drenched from earlier, and it's no problem to impale yourself upon him.

In the blue dark of early morning your eyes meet his, and again you sense that fleeting vulnerability before he distracts you with that clever fucking thumb finding your sensitive bud. He works you just right as you ride his beautiful dick with your back arched taut as a bow, his other hand toying with your nipple. It makes you cum in record time, so quickly it's almost embarrassing, though he doesn’t seem to mind. Within a minute he's followed along with you, his big hands digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he reaches his own release. Your name on his lips raises gooseflesh all over your body, as though your lovemaking has invoked something powerful, something binding.

You collapse against his chest, and the both of you nearly fall asleep again, with him still inside you. 

“Let me get this thing off,” he requests gently, and with a plaintive little groan you roll off of him, curling in at his side. He knots the condom before throwing it in the general direction of the bin. You are both too tired to care if it actually hit home. 

Again, you snuggle close and the two of you doze tangled together until morning light streams through the window. 

You wake to kisses on your forehead this time. It's a miracle you rouse. You're a heavy sleeper—and he worked you out. 

“I have to go, honey.” 

“Want breakfast?” you murmur, half asleep.

“Yeah, but I can’t. Rain check?”

“Okay.”

Through half lidded eyes you watch as he gets dressed, half way, at least. A good portion of his clothes are still strewn around the living room.

My god, what a beautiful specimen of manhood you bagged last night. Nonna would be proud. She was an appreciator of male beauty, and if you told her that her special recipe had gotten you the best sex of your life with the handsome boy next door she would have cackled with delight.

“See you soon?” you dare ask as he buttons his pants. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, after a pause, bending down to kiss you one more time, with tongue this round. 

“Careful mister, or you'll start round three.”

“Jesus, woman,” he teases with that heartbreaking almost-smile. “You've drained me dry.” 

You look him over appraisingly.

“Doubt it.” 

He huffs with laughter, shaking his head. 

“Bye, y/n.”

You sigh. 

“Bye, John.”

With a surprisingly heavy heart, you watch the best lay of your life slip out the door. You really hope you'll get to do this again, and not just go back to awkward acknowledgements in the hallway.

***

Maybe John Constantine had told you he’s not boyfriend material.

But earlier that day, while he was having a smoke out on the sidewalk, he found himself looking over at the wares of a flower vendor and wondering if you would like them. He didn’t buy any, of course.

He wasn’t a total sap.

But it’s possible as he scales the stairs to his apartment, there’s a lightness in his heart as he thinks of you, and the possibility of seeing you in the hallway.

That's when he finds your door ajar, and your apartment ransacked, and a note in red ink on the table addressed to him.

If you want to see your girlfriend alive again, come to this address.

It’s a place in L.A. that’s deep in vampire territory, and something black and heavy weighs like a stone in the pit of John’s stomach. He’d deported a few big players of the local coven not too long ago, and he’d figured the Master would want revenge, but this?

Fucking diabolical—and just their style.

Goddamn vampires.

Without a moment to lose, he goes to his apartment to get his kit, praying he’s not too late to save you.  

[romanscool]

MAXIEL #9 KISS PROMPT OMG

#9: a kiss to shut them up - maxiel: sfw!

this was so fun to write, thanks a lot for the ask!!

anyways, enjoy.

->

Daniel knows he shouldn’t have trusted Max on this one. Not when it involved Max promising he wouldn’t get mad after a game of padel.

Because, the thing is, Max is shit at padel. He’s always been, and most likely will always be, because it’s been almost ten years of playing every Grand Prix week end and he still hasn’t won a game yet. Even against Lando, which says something. But. It’s not like Daniel is any better, though he often finds himself to be flexier than Max is, catching balls that his padel-teammate would never have, and Max does have a habit of pointing it out after. That Daniel is very souple. 

But, anyway. All this to say, Daniel should definitely not have trusted Max when he said that padel was always fun, even if they lost. Definitely even less when Max added maybe they might even win this time. Yeah, that should have been a hint for how this was going to end. 

They lost. Obviously. Except now, Daniel has to deal with a very frustrated Max who, when in this state, finds rambling very relieving.

« -d you even see what he did? Fucking Pierre always with his snarky comment, distracting us. He was very obviously cheating, I cannot believe he would even do that in that way. But, he was teamed up with Charles, so really, I shouldn’t even be fucking surprised ‘cause those two always do weird shit when they’re together-, »

Daniel always notices that Max’s accent pops out more when he’s angry. His red plushy lips lets out more lisp, and all the ‘th’ become ’t’, which makes him sound a little funny, and also a little harsher than he probably means to be, though right now, Daniel thinks he’d like to actually spit those ’t’s as Pierre and Charles. Fucking padel pair that always wins. Daniel should really, really have seen this one coming. 

They’re walking through the paddock now, about to get into their separate garages to start he Singapore qualification session, and apparently, Max still isn’t over their little game of padel last night. He’s been shooting death glares at any Alpine employee, which isn’t very fair, but it’s very Max, so Daniel didn’t comment on it. Since 10pm last night, he has let Max make big ranting gestures in front of him and explain everything that has been wrong with the way Pierre and Charles have played, how their strategy were ‘not fair play, and pretty fucking trying to fuck them up’ - Max’s words -. 

And Daniel is still listening and listening, trying to get into race mode, but he can’t, because God, he’s starting to understand where Max is coming from, because Pierre had made that little racket move to Daniel, that little wave just before he hit the ball, and that had distracted Daniel from the game, and god, why is Max making sense right now-

« -no, ‘cause, like, he should not have hit the ball this way, » Max is still gesturing angrily at whatever in front of him, eyes fixated on the ground, then the ceiling, then Daniel’s face and again on the ceiling, « because it made a little curve that no one could have ever thrown back! It’s so unfair, and Charles has always been this way, always throwing dirty moves that make us unable to fight back, always pushing me off track when I was beginning to win, and we were going to win last night, I felt it, but Charles with his fucking Pierre were so-, » 

Daniel kisses him. Like, hands on either side of his neck, tongue pushing past his lips and hips flush against each other’s kissing, and God, Max is still trying to speak when Daniel pulls away, so Daniel kisses him again, just to make sure he’ll shut up, because Daniel can’t keep listening to this and risk getting into unnecessary fights with an impossible opponent that is Ferrari and a team that’s been at the back of the grid for most the year, he’s supposed to be right at the middle, sandwiched between them. Not fighting. 

Max is the one to break the kiss this time, eyes big and round, breath a little panting from either his rant or the kiss, and Daniel really wishes it’s the kiss, and his lips a slightly parted, red and blotchy just under the freckle that sits so prettily, but they’re starting to move again, to form words, « Daniel, I do not-, » so Daniel has to kiss them quiet again. Max keeps trying to talk, gently but actually not very so, almost biting into Daniel’s lips as he does so, so Daniel puts a hand to his scalp, just behind the ear, rubbing soft circular motion there, and-

Max melts a bit after that. Daniel feels his shoulder slump slightly under his touch, his knees bend just a little and one of his hands settle in Daniel’s curls, and the other on his waist. He’s not trying to pull away anymore, not trying to speak, to argue, if anything, he’s pulling in, in, in, taking Daniel in his arms fully, touching everywhere, and now Daniel pulls away again, because he suddenly remembers they’re minutes away from qualifications and he’s got to get his head in race mode, not go easy on a Red Bull that he will most likely never cross, but who knows. 

Daniel has got to stop being so easily distracted. 

ps: might do an nsfw version of this prompt to post on ao3 for kinktober, let me know if you'd be interested!!

[fafefae]

on the topic of alastor's hatred for vox vs alastor's hatred for lucifer, there's actually a HUGE difference. one is a hatred based in mutual respect and spite (some may call it rivalry, others, kismesissitude), but the other one is just pure unhealthy toxic hatred.

here's my thoughts on alastor's reasoning behind why he hates lucifer, and also some speculation on why alastor seemed so insistent on calling himself charlie's dad when that's so wildly out of character for him in the context of the theory that lilith is the one holding alastor's leash. his relationship (as in, his interactions) with lucifer are not a personal choice; this has his own soul on the line with lilith involved, and it puts him on edge. he's extremely manipulative in "hell's greatest dad" and for the entire rest of the episode too.

but enough about that, in this post im gonna look at alastor and vox, because unlike alastor and lucifer singing "hell's greatest dad", (in which alastor is genuinely fighting to push lucifer out of charlie's life and to keep him gone for ulterior reasons), alastor makes an effort to meet vox as an equal while singing "stayed gone", pushing and allowing vox to push back. his relationship with vox is a personal choice he continues to make.

because by the time vox realizes alastor's back, alastor has been back for a week, and yet it's only when vox announces it on TV that alastor decides to do his first radio broadcast since his return. the radio demon, waiting to do something he loves that he hasn't done in seven years? but that's what he did, alastor waited for vox to initiate something via TV broadcast before jumping in with a radio broadcast.

"did anybody miss him? did anybody notice?"

vox seems really desperate to dismiss how much alastor's return doesn't bother him, how much he doesn't care about where alastor's been, and how much better he's been doing without alastor,

"while he hid in radio, we've pivoted to video!" ... "hell's been better since he split, where's he been, who gives a shit?!"

which REALLY sounds like someone who's been rejected and is bitter about it. and when alastor sings his verses later in the song, that's actually exactly what he says!

"and here's the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team! i said no, and now he's pissy, that's the tea!"

alastor REJECTED vox's offer to be part of the Vees, but then alastor seems to have no trouble meeting vox on his own turf. in fact, he seems to get some enjoyment out of riling vox up, to the point where alastor pretty much admits he kept tabs on vox while he was gone those seven years.

"is vox insecure, pursuing allure? flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working? every day, he's got a new format!"

alastor finds this rivalry with vox enjoyable. one could argue that vox is obsessed with alastor, but i'm gonna argue that the inverse is true as well. alastor is JUST AS OBSESSED with vox as vox is with him, and the proof is in the way alastor speaks.

"instead of a clout-chasing mediocre video podcast" ... "now he's pissy, that's the tea!"

those are MODERN SLANG PHRASES. one of alastor's biggest character traits is that he despises modernity, or really, anything that came after he died. and YET, he updated his slang to not only keep up with vox, but meet him as an equal on vox's turf. "see? i can do it too."

and vox does meet him back! the instrumental of "stayed gone" starts off with some electro technical modern sounds (vox's sounds), but when vox opens up the rest of the song to address alastor in his broadcast, it switches to a big band jazzy sound that's extremely reminiscent of the 1920s-1930s, aka, vox is singing a song that's backed by something that is alastor's theming. this is vox meeting alastor. "see? i can do that too."

because at the end of it all, they're actually both the same kind of demon; they're both focused on entertainment, which truly makes them equals. it's just how they both go about it that makes them different.

vox's domain extends over modern entertainment and two of the biggest entertainment industries (adult entertainment and pop-culture) are already in his pocket. the real leader of the Vees is vox (not velvette, as much as she likes to believe she is). but vox wants all of the entertainment domain under his control; for all that vox makes fun of alastor, he still asked alastor to join his team, because radio and podcasts are entertainment, and more importantly, they're sections of the entertainment domain that alastor will never give up.

vox will never stop chasing after alastor, but alastor enjoys that. he enjoys having something vox will never have, and he enjoys that it makes him equal and relevant to vox. and as much as vox proclaims he'll make alastor wish he'd stayed gone, he knows very well he can't control alastor, and alastor knows this very well too.

and that's what makes him so alluring to vox! vox is used to being able to control people! he easily calms valentino down, he easily hypnotizes the masses, but alastor? vox knows damn well that alastor is his equal. and alastor knows damn well that vox is his equal.

"oh, this will be fun."

[projectbluearcadia]

Well-Deserved Rest

NSFW Sub!Lucifer x GN!MC Spice Rating - 3/4 ; BDSM Rating 0/3

[ Premise - Lucifer is all stressed out again, and you’ve decided that you’re going to make him unwind by taking control and spoiling the shit out of him. ]

Lucifer makes me sub... but sub!Luci makes me want to dom his ass.

CW: None, really? One spank, Lucifer receiving.

Wordcount - 2546

smutty notes (consult if you haven’t read my smut before.)

“Lucifer?” you say in shock as you watch the oldest brother, not even wearing his waistcoat or his gloves in the kitchen. His sleeves are hiked up to his elbows, his crimson tie missing. He gazes at you for a long moment, just as he reaches the coffee grinder, and the stress in his eyes momentarily seems to ease before he looks away. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, filling the grinder with fresh beans, and the machine hums quietly before the sound of coffee being ground fills the air, along with its wonderful scent. 

“Lucifer… did you even sleep?” you ask, and at first, you think he’s ignoring you, and on the off-chance that he couldn’t hear you over the grinder, you decide to wait until it’s finished. “Lucifer. Did you sleep?” 

“What? Oh… I think I did?” He takes the grounds out, pushing them into a neat little puck before packing it into the espresso machine. 

“You think?” you ask. “If you’re not going to sleep next to me, the least you can do is actually take more than a power nap. Seriously; this is getting ridiculous. You should not be getting up in the middle of the night to do work, much less pulling all-nighters.” 

“I’ve gone for more than a month with less than an hour of sleep; I’ll be fine,” he mumbles, taking his coffee cup out from underneath the machine. “I don’t need you to mind me like I’m some kind of child. I know where my limits are.” 

You fold your arms at him, half-tempted to actually yell at him with frustration. Though you’ve been getting him to fix some of his unhealthy habits, R.A.D. loves throwing a wrench in the works, whether it’s Diavolo, the students, his brothers, or diplomatic meetings. 

“Hey!” you protest as Lucifer starts walking off with his coffee, and he pauses to look back at you. 

“I have to go back to work, MC. Later?” Meaning, I will not discuss this with you now, and I’m going whether you want me to or not; be content with the fact that you’ve seen me at all today. 

“You’d better come to bed tonight, Lucifer,” you growl at him, and he softly chuckles. “By 11 P.M. If you’re not there, I’m going to drag you there by force.” 

“Yes, honey, I’ll come to bed. So greedy…” His voice trails off as he travels out of earshot, and you grumble a retort. I’m going to make sure you have a proper rest, you son of a bitch. 

—

You’re sitting in front of Lucifer’s fireplace, reading one of Satan’s book recommendations when you hear Lucifer knock on the frame of his bedroom door..

“Here I am, as requested,” Lucifer says, and you hear his leather oxfords briefly clack against the wooden floor before muffling against his rug. Then he’s behind your chair, pulling his hands over yours, leaning his head down to kiss your temple. “Come on… don’t be mad at me,” he whispers sweetly, rubbing your arms up and down. “I know it’s been a lonely week, so let’s go out for some quality time on Sunday.” Lucifer kisses your cheek, teasing your bookmark from your fingers and closing your book on it. “Maybe we can go shopping… or maybe we can see a show… go to your favorite restaurant for dinner…” He drags his lips against the back of your ear, his voice lowering by an octave. “Have lots of sex when we get home… how does that sound, darling?” 

“I’m still mad at you,” you reply, and he pauses, his mouth opening to try to butter you up some more, but you don’t let him. “If you want me to stop being mad, I get to torture you when I fuck you tonight.” It’s not an unreasonable request per se, considering you’ve topped him before. It’s just not one that Lucifer expects you to ask so bluntly, which is why he doesn’t answer you for several uncomfortably long moments. 

“Do whatever you please with me then,” he responds, finally, and you get up to turn and look back at him. Surprisingly enough, he looks a little nervous, and you barely stop yourself from launching at him in a fit of cuteness aggression. “Am I allowed to touch you this time…?” God, fuck, stop me from ripping his clothes off; I want to tease him. 

“Yes,” you reply after a moment, “but you’re not allowed to switch to being dominant halfway through doing that. That means not taking advantage of your demon strength.” 

“I agreed to this; I want to make it up to you,” Lucifer concedes softly, loosely pulling his arms around your lower back. “I’ll be your stress toy tonight, okay?” Oh, honey, that is far from what I have planned.

“That’s my good little demon,” you murmur, rubbing his head slowly, and a faint blush scatters over his cheeks at the praise. He opens his mouth to ask a question, but you cut him off as you push your lips against his, a soft groan leaving his mouth as you pull his hair and dominate his tongue. His fingers stray under your shirt, caressing the skin of your back with deliberate slowness as if he needed to savor every second he was allowed to touch you. 

“Mn,” he grunts into your mouth as you tease your fingers up his inner thigh, teasing him until his hands stiffen, struggling to restrain himself from picking you up on his waist and carrying you to bed. “Ugh,” he gasps, breaking from your lips as you rub the palm of your hand against his rapidly growing bulge. “MC…”

“Remember what I told you, Lucifer,” you murmur against his lips before you shut him up, lightly tucking your fingertips underneath his shirt, stroking up his navel, into the crevice of his abdominal muscles. He relaxes a little with this little motion of yours, only to make a startled sound into your mouth as a high-pitched zip! hits the air. “You’re already like this?” you murmur against his ear as you run your thumb over his cock, straining to escape his underwear. You can feel Lucifer’s skin running hotter as you do so, his breath getting shorter. “Good boy.” 

“Hah…” Lucifer gasps softly before he mumbles a soft protest. 

“Oh? Then why’d your little soldier respond so eagerly, hm?” you tease, and a faint blush scatters over his cheeks as you take your time freeing his cock from its clothy confinement. It even starts to drip little white tears of gratitude. 

“...because evidently, I liked it,” he admits with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle. 

“You’re adorable,” you murmur sweetly, wrapping your hand around his member and half debating whether or not you wanted to wipe that calm look off his face by pushing him onto the bed and sucking on it. No, no, MC, work up to that. Make him orgasm in progressively more exciting ways. 

“Right back at you,” Lucifer replies, breathless as he watches you intently, his hands rubbing your waist up and down, up and down. “And incredibly fucking tempting.” He squeezes your hips, a naughty grunt slipping past his teeth when you give his wanting tip some special attention.

“But you’re very good at resisting, aren’t you, darling? You’re doing so well, Lucifer.” 

“Shit,” he groans before you kiss him again, stroking him much harder, and an almost needy moan sinks into your mouth. Ugh, I want to make him cum his brains out. “Mnn… mmm…” You can feel how close he is just by his kiss as he stops all forms of playful resistance, his lip twitching faintly as he tries not to close his mouth. His erection is just as antsy, right about ready to burst. 

“Go on, sweetheart. Cum for me,” you whisper against his lips, panting, before you swallow his soft, reluctant moan as he coats your hand in his sticky, off-white semen. “See? You’re a good boy, Lucifer.” You ruffle your clean hand into his hair, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and blushing badly at his own actions. His tired face already looks relaxed. “Come on. Let’s go sit on the bed.” 

And, as if to get back at you for how embarrassed he was, he unexpectedly squeezes your ass—hard—in both hands. You almost yelp, and you smack his ass in return, making him chuckle as you shake your hand with a wince. 

He does not protest as you push him onto the edge of the bed, his lips parted as if waiting for another kiss, and you decide to grant his wish. He deserves some thorough spoiling for all that work he does. 

“Take your shirt off for me,” you order, and as he does so after a moment of hesitation, you finally pay some attention to your white-slicked hand. Without breaking eye contact with Lucifer, you lick his semen off, watching him grip his covers while his demon form starts to slip out at the undoubtedly crude sight. 

“MC, please… if you don’t want me to attack you right now, tie me up,” he grinds out as you suck two fingers slowly before letting them pop out of your mouth. “I can’t restrain myself for this.” 

“Yes, you can,” you soothe, laying your hands on his thighs. “But if you want me to get the rope out from under the bed, that’s a different story…” You lean towards his ear to bite the shell. “Your cum is very thick and rich, by the way.” 

You can tell, as you lean back, that he’s so close to snapping and railing you into oblivion that he’s nearly glaring at you with lust. If your sex wasn’t dripping before, it is now. 

“I don’t want you to,” he mumbles, slowly relaxing his muscles, one by one. “But I do want to be… obedient for you.” He has to grind out the last words, his face flushing a little again as he averts his eyes from yours. 

“But you’re already being so obedient,” you reply gently, kissing his neck. “Being my perfect demon. Don’t be so hard on yourself, honey. You’re doing just fine.” A rewarding little groan slips out of his throat, and you kiss down to his collarbone, offering him a gentle nibble. 

“MC, I really can’t do this,” he rasps out as you rub your fingers up and down his chest, going around to his back to rub firm little circles on his lower back. You wordlessly and gently hush him with the finger of your other hand as he tries to continue before you lower your head again to kiss near one of his nipples. You desperately wish in that second that he liked it when you toyed with them, but alas… 

Despite the fact that Lucifer fully shifts into his demon form as he loses patience, he doesn’t act on it as you work your way down his midsection, down his pretty abs. He is, however, much stiffer than you’d prefer, so you make sure to shower him with some extra praise for being so good for you. 

“That’s right, Lucifer. You’re doing it all by yourself.” You kiss his v-line. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Dammit, don’t do that to me,” he moans, covering his mouth. “Please don’t do what I hope you’re doing.” You almost laugh at him for purposely denying himself pleasure; there would be none of that tonight. 

“Why not?” you purr, your cheek practically rubbing his swollen, rosy-headed penis. His wings cutely flutter at the contact. “I want seconds… while it’s still hot.” You kiss his base, and one of his hands tangles into your hair, the veins on his forearm sharply standing out as he stopped himself from pulling. His expression screeches at you, screeches, that he wants to fill your mouth up so much that his seed will flow down your chin. Dear God, why did you make this sexy creature and piss him off? I mean, more for me, but still. “Can you do that for me, you absurdly sexy bastard?” Didn’t mean to add that last part, but I guess he liked that.

“Fuck me,” he groans obscenely as you kiss his tip, looking up at him. 

“Your moans are doing an excellent job of making me ready to fuck you, darling,” you rumble before you hornily close your lips around the tip of his cock, giving it a nice, long suck before you start taking more of it. More, until he’s hitting the back of your throat, and you moan softly onto him, restraining yourself from distracting yourself by rubbing your throbbing sex. Your body is already screaming at you, but you want to make sure he’s nice and warmed up for the main event. 

Every movement of your tongue, every bob, every lick, every hollowing your cheeks makes Lucifer grunt, moan, and even whimper a little. Louder and filthier for you, as if he’s trying to beg for you to hurry up and fuck him without saying it. 

“Do you… like that, MC?” He smiles down at you, his cheeks still pink as he grips your hair harder at the root. “Do… you like my cock? How it feels…ugh… inside your mouth?” He just wants praise now. That’s really cute.

“Mmm hm,” you hum onto him, sucking him harder and making his breath catch. You moan onto him as you fondle his balls with one hand, making him tighten his hold on your hair. He can’t stop himself from bobbing your head a few times right before he splatters the inside of your mouth, his wings spreading wide and trembling. 

“MC!” he gasps out, panting as he watches you slowly let go of him, licking a streak off his length that escaped your mouth. When you swallow everything, he flops backwards into the bed, his eyes almost rolling back into his head before they refocus on the ceiling. For once, his thoughts are written on his face—that felt so fucking good; I needed this so bad… 

“I do love your cock, Lucifer,” you finally say, impatiently shedding your clothes, practically throwing them to the floor with annoyance. “It’s absolutely perfect for filling me the way I want it. And it feels amazing when it’s inside me.”

Lucifer ogles your body as you crawl on top of him, smiling before you kiss him again. He doesn’t seem to mind tasting himself as he hugs you close to him gratefully, almost crying as you cup his cheek. “You had a hard week, honey… You did such an excellent job like you always do, and I love you even when I don’t see you; you’re breathtaking from those horns down to your sweet personality…” You litter his neck with kisses. “Just let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

“Yes, please,” he groans before he goes right back to kissing you, his blissful tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, his hands rubbing your back. “Please praise me more… reward me. Make love to me; I need you.” 

“Finally asking for what you want,” you purr as you get ready to lower yourself onto him, kissing the corner of his lips. “Good boy.”

[tkthrilla-writes]

Oh Way Down We Go

An Alastor x Host!Reader that is set in the early days of their contract making, set while reader is in college

______________________________________________________________

“The fucking audacity! I swear if there is even a God- somewhere! Anywhere!” she shouted and screamed, her hands holding tight onto the bars, “Get me out of here!” she continued to yell out in her jail cell.

“Shut up already!” the police officer just outside her cell barked back, having had enough of her tantrums.

“I don’t even know what the hell happened and why I am here! Just let me go!”

“Not until your papers have been processed missy!”

And with a sigh of exasperation, she hit her head against the bars, “great,” she wallowed out, “now my future is ruined.”

“It’s your own fault for being at the crime scene and not cooperating!”

“But I didn’t do anything! I don’t remember anything,” she continued to bang her head on the bars a couple more times before giving up and heading over to the semi clean corner of the jail cell that did not smell or stink of piss. Leaning her back against the wall, and sliding down to sit on the floor in exasperation.

She wasn’t sure how long she had stayed there, could’ve been minutes or hours, people passing by giving her smug looks as if she was the guilty one and she wasn’t getting away with it. All she knew is that this situation revolved around a murder, while she did have an idea as to who committed the murder, she was telling the truth on not know what happened.  It’s not like she was awake or anything during the whole thing, and quite frankly, when Alastor takes over their body, he really takes over! While she does get an inkling as to what is happening, unlike Alastor who is there in the back of her head while she is in control, it’s as if she is in a deep sleep.

So you can imagine her ‘waking up’ in the middle of the street to police cars surrounding her, and cops pointing their guns at her while two people tried to drag her away and stuff her into the car! Her head was probably bruised because she was sure one of them knocked her head into the car door! And don’t get started on how they treated her in the interrogation room, literally only screaming and shouting right at her face for a murder that had just happened, five blocks away. She wasn’t anywhere near the scene of the crime! But no, she was the only one closest to the crime scene! It had to be her!

To top it all off, it was supposed to be her day today, and all she wanted to do was stay in and study! But nooooo, Alastor had to be a smartass and take over for the day, despite him know they have an exam in a couple weeks!

Why was she surrounded by idiots and assholes? All this demon was doing was making her life miserable, more so than it already was. With how badly he treats her, like a toy! Did she sell her soul to him? Sure she did. But he was supposed to help make her life better, not ruin it by sending her to prison!

At this point it started to feel like an eternity with how long and how board she had started to get. Till finally a cop showed up and actually started to open the cell, “Come on! You’re being bailed out!”

“Uh ok,” she said, pretty sure she looked dumb and stupid at the notion of her scrambling to get up from the floor, till she questioned, “by who?”

“By me,” a tall and tanned figure appeared in a white dress shirt and brown trousers to match. He wore only what she could describe as a very annoyed smile, his eyes showing no interest whatsoever, as if he would rather be doing anything else and be elsewhere rather than here. Which the feeling was mutual. “Come along… darling…” he held his smile, although that sounded a lot like a sneer. Ok now this guy was about to get on her nerves, but she wasn’t about to push her luck and miss a chance of freedom.

Dashing behind the tall gentleman while being sure to stick her tongue out at the cop, out of pettiness and extreme annoyance. Something the cop visibly reacted to what only could be described as the Beifong look of insult – you know the one.

The two kept silent as they both walked past the office booths full of police personnel, till they reached the reception area full of either visitors or people waiting to be transferred to a different department, more cops filtering in and out of the crowd while they we just two normal people walking out a building… well, almost normal.

The moment they had pasted the main door to go outside, down a couple of stairs, the ever so kind gentleman started to spazz for a second or two, “Uh you ok?” the human who had just got out what could be a prison sentence spoke up.

“Never better!” the gentleman replied annoyance becoming more evident the more his head started to twitch and bend to what should not have been humanly possible.

“Great! Now who are you and why’d you bail me out?! As far as I know I never made a call!” and so the tirade began, the frustration of today and what essentially could ruin an entire life still weighing down heavily.

“Must you be so dense darling?” darling having the main emphasis sounded quite condescending and quite frankly insulting, as the strangers smile started to grow even more annoyed.

“OI nobody calls me darling you creep, now come on answer my question!”

“Really? Nobody!” the man how just fizzled out into thin air, leaving the “darling” in question heavily confused, only finally clicking in a second later when a wave of immense exhaustion came crashing in, nearly knocking her down the stairs as her knees started to buckle. Luckily she caught herself just in time before taking a nasty fall to the head. Great! First jail time with a record and now a whopping hospital bill, what a great way to end the day!

“Al….” she sneered. 

“Darling….” He sneered back.

“Since when could you come out of my body and look human you demon?”

“Since those of are the rules of contracts with mortal denizens who are ALIVE,” he placed great emphasis on the word alive, “only able to do so for a few minutes at a time and takes great energy to make it work.”

“And now we are both exhausted and have a don’t know how long walk back home! Something that could’ve been avoided if you didn’t take over today!” Starting to walk down the stairs and struggling to march over to the bus stop that was thankfully conveniently placed infront of the police station.

“Excuse you! Where is my ‘thank you?! I’m the one who got you out!”

“Right after you murdered someone and put me in there in the first place!”

“First of all I unfortunately take no credit in that, although the circumstances were quite humorous! Second, you should be thanking me for erasing records of your involvement and getting you out!”

“Wait you did what?”

“I will not repeat myself dear,” the hmpf in his speech could be heard at the end, making the dear host of the demon just be startled in confusion, climbing up the bus that had arrived and would take them hopefully close to home, paying for the ticket fare.

“Why?” she finally asked after a couple of seconds of silence hung in the air, having finally sat down on something relatively padded and resting for a bit. The exhaustion of Alastor entering her body after he took his human form was weighing more than heavy on her nearly making her pass out on her seat. Only thing that kept her awake was the conversation they were semi-having and the fact that this part of town was not familiar to her so she needed to be aware and pay attention to her surroundings outside of the bus.

“Well I did maul it over after the lad insulted the way we dressed, however there were witnesses and it was broad daylight. Oh the irony of someone else getting to murder him!”

“No I mean, why? As in why erase my records and get me out?”

“Well it would do me no good in having my host behind bars where we would be unable to roam free and cause chaos and madness.”

The pause was evident between the two, leaving them hung in silence. The sun shining bright creating shadows to pass by on the humans face, the tiredness kicking in and making her lean on the bus window. The vibrations from that were making the emerging headache bearable.

“Doesn’t change the fact that it was supposed to be my turn today. Why’d you take over I thought you said you had more important business to take over than make sure a human is peak condition and fit for hurting others,” the sadness hung heavy in what they said, especially after they thought this whole taking over randomly fiasco was over and they finally settled on a schedule.

“I was but business finished early, thought I’d drop by and take over after you mauled at those books of yours for hours. A nice stroll would’ve done you some good!”

“Stroll or hunt for victims?”

“…. Failure,” Alastor retorted, feeling both insulted and called out on his other agendas.

“Dead,” she countered, making a face as she realised she said that out loud of the mental conversation that they were having.

“How dare you?!” he cried in offence.

“I dare,” she retorted, removing her head from the window, the vibrations becoming too much and starting to make said headache get worse.

 Alasator let out a Tsk at the sweet and daring audacity his darling host had.

“Thank you.”

“For what exactly?”

“I aint saying anything else! If anything you still owe me!” continuing on with their back and forth banter and shenanigans till they arrived home.

“Speaking of which,” his host started as soon as they returned back into the cramped-up dorm, it was just a small room with a bed, desk and bathroom, but it was cosy enough for one person – well… one person and their radio demon, who turned on the radio amidst the messy pile of books on the desk to fill the background with classic 1920’s music, “I thought you agreed on that schedule, thought I was finally going to have today, or do we need to fight again before we settle it,” the curtain on the window closed as clothes started to be flung all over the place, the human now more than ready to take a long shower to get rid of the smell of rotting hopes, crushed dreams and prison sweat.

“Honestly my dear how lowly do you think of me in this arrangement?”

“Just answer the question Al,” the exasperation could be heard with every word, now entering the bathroom and stopping to look into the mirror to see the dishevelled hair, bloodshot eyes, and dark circles getting darker if that was possible. Plus it was easier to talk to someone who is in your head when you can at least see another person.

“I do not know what to tell you or what it is you wisht o hear, this is my body after all, and you do not do a very good job at taking care of it –“

“You mean my body!”

“My contract, my host, my rules. Therefore, my body! You take these humanly affairs and books too seriously! It is good to pursue knowledge, I do encourage that! But what I do not encourage is this body of MINE to be in poor shape when it gets down to hell!” he continued, wispy and shadowed antlers starting to appear in the mirror, perfectly placed up on the head nearly like a thorny crown, radio static starting to fill the air and drown out the music playing in the background.

“Charming,” she says breaking eye contact with the person in the mirror in favour of getting in the shower. At least she can somewhat count on him to take care of her and get her out of prison before going straight to hell.

[luza-wayne]

accompany.

murasakibara atsushi x reader

wc: 1.5k

he's my top 2 husband btw, hehe. i luv me some bigbois

“what should i do?” you sighed.

you hold the box with your office belonging inside tighter.

why’d they suddenly choose to lay off their workers? 

i know they’re just a small company, but that doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be considerate of their workers. they forced us to resign without even giving us a heads up first.

you all better make sure my back pay is well computed and correct in amount. 

you sighed again.

past few weeks have already been so hellish and now this?

another deep exhale came out of your mouth.

“well, for now, let’s get yourself a meal, (y/n).” you told yourself to get off some steam because of your ex-company. 

with your back slumped, you walked around the shopping district to find yourself some delicious food. your eyes wanders around to the variety of showcases put in front of every shop. 

nothing really piques your hunger.

while walking, your orbs captured a shop across the street. 

“cake shop?” you whisper.

sweets are not really my forte, but right now, i’m salivating for some. 

hmm… 

okay, (y/n). let’s get us some cake.

you waited for the traffic light to change before walking to the other side of the street. you went straight to the shop and looked at their “today’s menu” board.

chocolate mousse…

sounds delicious.

you fixed yourself and were about to open the door when someone suddenly talked beside you.

“hey…” 

you quickly turned around and found a chest, or even lower. you looked up and saw a purple head gazing at you.

titan!

“y-yes? are you talking to me?” you asked.

he nodded his head.

“can i come with you?” 

“huh?”

a few seconds of silence.

you both stared at each other without muttering a single word.

when you realized he’s not going to elaborate further what he means by that, you took it upon yourself to ask him.

“um, sorry. what do you mean by that? you want to come with me?” you pointed at the shop. “you mean here?”

he nodded again.

“okay…? i guess… i don’t see any problem with that.”

can’t you just go in by yourself?

you pushed the door open and he quietly followed you behind.

does he just want someone to open the door for him?

you released the door when he got inside. you walked to the counter and finished up your order. they gave you a number and you went to find a seat, but…

why is he still following me?

when you found an open table, you took a seat. unsurprisingly, he did too.

what the hell is wrong with this guy?

“um, do you still need something else?” you asked him.

he was taking something out from his duffle bag. it was a candy snack. he opened it and took some in his mouth.

“why are you asking if i need something else? are you a waitress?” he said with a straight face and continued munching his snack.

“what—”

“why do you have a box full of office things? did you get fired? don’t mind.” he cut off with a monotone voice.

what’s with this guy?

“you know, i don’t have the energy to argue with someone right now. please spare me from your snarky remarks.” you said and looked away.

“i wasn’t trying to be snarky, though. that was meant to be comforting.” he replied, his snacks that he just opened, already finished up.

“you thought that was comforting?” you raised your one brow and looked him dead in the eyes.

he nodded. you sighed and shook your head in disbelief.

really… what the hell is wrong with this guy? 

you looked at him while he searched for something to eat in his bag that will satiate his hunger for now.

what else does he want? 

hmm…

from the looks of it, he seems like an athlete— no, he’s definitely an athlete. his height gave it away.

basketball or volleyball? i wonder which sport he plays.

what if he actually plays baseball? haha. that would be a plot twist.

“why are you staring at me? hm… did you fall in love with me?” he muttered as he munched continuously.

“ah—! of course, i didn’t!” you refuted and immediately looked away. 

damn, i didn’t even notice i was staring for that long. 

well, that sure was embarrassing, but i can’t believe he can straight-faced call out someone and ask them if they’ve fallen for him.

i don’t know if he’s just one confident man or just straightforward. or a jerk. 

“table number 23.” a man holding a tray said.

you both looked at his direction and saw him already putting down your food. 

“enjoy your food.” he muttered before turning around.

your eyes formed hearts in it as soon as you saw the cake in front of you. you were so focused on it you almost forgot you’re sharing a table with an unknown person.

you peeked up at this said person and was surprised by the amount of food in front of him.

“what is this? are you going to eat all of that?!” you asked.

“i've actually held back on ordering because we have an official game later.” he said and started eating the fruit cake first.

“what?! you have a game later?! how laid-back can you be to be eating right now?!” you asked him. it's as if the freaking out that he should be feeling is now transferred to you.

“look.”

he shook his head and showed you his phone.

the screen showed messages and call notifications from who seemed like his coaches and teammates. 

“they're looking for you already. god, some of them are already cursing you out.” you uttered as you read.

“i snuck out. but it's fine, because aka-chin is still in the plane because their flight was canceled for a few hours.” he explained.

“aka-chin?” you tilted your head.

“our captain. we're playing with some foreigners who wanted to have some revenge on us. we've already beaten them like five years ago and now they said they're getting their payback.” he added.

“heh… what sports are you playing?” you inquired. 

“basketball. hey, aren't you going to eat? if you're not eating yours, then can i have it?” he said and went to try to snatch your plate, but you immediately evaded his long-ass limbs.

“no! i'm going to eat this! stop stealing my cake!” you defended your pastry and hid it away from him.

he pouted for a bit before focusing back on his own food. 

you then didn't waste another time and started digging on your chocolate mousse cake. 

“mhm! so delicious!” you rejoiced as you took the first bite. 

so, he plays basketball. wait… i think i heard some news about that in the past. foreigners playing against japanese players… 

“ah. vorpal swords, right? your team's name.” you questioned and he just nodded as his mouth was full.

wow, i can't believe i'm eating with someone who basically represent our country—

“wait, why were you waiting outside in the first place?” you said.

he looked at you.

“because i didn't want to eat alone.” he plainly said.

“yeah, everyone can guess that. but, why'd you have to eat with me?” you asked and took another bite.

“because everyone else came in with their partner and you were alone. i don't want to stand out by coming in alone.” he answered as he finished another plate.

no, your height alone can steal everyone's attention.

“oh, i thought you wanted to eat with me because when you saw me you fell in love.” you joked, trying to get back at him for his joke earlier.

“i didn't fall in love with you at first sight, but i think i'm starting to.” he said without missing a beat, not even stopping his hands from stuffing his mouth with more desserts.

“you—! don't go saying things like that! jeez, you'll create some misunderstanding!” you pointed at him, flushed with his sudden bluntness.

he looked at you confused.

i'm serious, though. he thought, but decided to brush it off and just continue eating. 

you started fanning your hands over your face to create some air.

“gosh, it's suddenly so hot.” you segues. 

suddenly, his phone rang with a notification.

“ah. aka-chin has already arrived.” he said sadly.

noticing this, you smiled comfortingly at him.

“are you going now?” you asked him.

he nodded. 

he immediately readied his things and finished his food. he stood up and slings his bag on his shoulder. he looks at you and slightly bow his head.

you smiled at him.

“thank you for accompanying me.” he thanked. 

“bye-bye. thank you to you too. somehow, i forgot my problem for a while while talking to you.” you told him as you hit the box with your foot which is the problem you're referring to.

you waved at him and he turned around. he took one step towards the door then he suddenly turned around.

“what? did you forget something?” you asked.

“next week. same day and time. i'll be visiting this place again. can you accompany me again that time?” he said, looking at you earnestly.

“what? is this your way of asking me out on a date?” you teased.

even though it's faint, you can definitely see how his ears slowly turned red.

you chuckled.

“sure. i’d love to accompany you.”

hope you enjoyed that! likes and reblogs would be much appreciated!

if you'd like to support me and my broke ass, you can tip me at my ko-fi acc! thank you very much!

[sassycheesecake]

Warnings: suggestive content, mentions of sex

Having Oikawa as a temporary roommate doesn’t sound too bad at first.

Unless you’re dating his best friend, Hajime Iwaizumi.

Both you and Iwaizumi have been high school sweethearts, now dating officially for almost 8 years.

While your boyfriend, actually fiancé now, is working as an athletic trainer for the national Japanese volleyball team, you work as a pharmacist in the local hospital.

When Iwaizumi came home after a work-out one night, he had an annoyed expression on his face when he entered your apartment.

Pausing your actions on making dinner, you know that face already.

"What?"

Iwaizumi sighs, drops his gym bag and walks over to you with an exhausted expression.

"Those shitheads are really getting on my last nerves. Thought I lost them all already back in high school with Oikawa." The brunette hugs you from behind and can feel himself relax when he smells the familiar smell of your pineapple and coconut shampoo.

Which reminds you.

Oikawa texted you yesterday, asking if he can stay at your place for a week while he is training with his Argentinian team at the Ajinomoto National Training Center.

And the Setter knows the former Outside Hitter all too well, knowing 100% already that Iwaizumi would just leave him on read when he reads Oikawa’s message about staying at your guys’ place.

Which is why Oikawa asked you instead, knowing you’re Iwaizumi‘s kryptonite.

And Iwaizumi can never say no to you.

"Say love, don’t be mad at me."

The bliss on Iwaizumi’s face disappears and he turns you around to look at you with a frown on his face.

"What did you do?"

"Uhm… you know how much I love you? Your muscles certainly got a LOT bigger-" Tracing his firm pegs with your finger, you start to get distracted.

"Don’t try and sweet talk your way out of this. Just tell me." He gives you that look.

"Oikawa is coming to visit Japan and he needs a place to stay."

"And?"

You look at him with pleading eyes and he realizes immediately.

With big eyes, he steps away from you and the realization turns into deep annoyance.

Iwaizumi turns around to walk to your shared bathroom, he can’t deal with this right now.

"So does that mean you’re okay with it?" You call after him.

The only reply you hear, is a frustrating scream coming from the shower after a while.

"Eh, he’ll be fine." You mutter as you turn around to finish dinner.

The next day, Oikawa arrives bright and early at your front door, thankfully you’re both already awake, due to Iwaizumi’s early morning jog routine and you having the opening shift of the pharmacy.

A storm of the ringing doorbell makes the athletic trainer walk towards the door, and when Iwaizumi opens it, Oikawa jumps to hug Iwaizumi.

Not seeing in coming, Iwaizumi falls to the ground with a loud grunt, impacted by Oikawa’s weight.

"Get off of me you stupid idiot!" He pushes Oikawa off and can feel himself breathe again.

"But Iwa-chaaaaaaaan! I missed you dearly! Is this the way to greet your best friend who you haven’t seen in 4 years??" Oikawa pouts and when this chocolate brown eyes find yours, he yells your name out excitedly and runs towards you with alarming speed.

"My beautiful future best-friend-in-law looks gorgeous as always!" The giant Setter hugs you tight.

Giggling at his enthusiastic hug, you return it.

"It’s nice to have you here Tōru." You smile at him, parting from Oikawa.

"Come on, Shittykawa, let’s go on a seven mile run, like I do every morning."

The Setter pales like a ghost at that.

"But- I just got here and you’re already making me run? You can treat those mediocre third class athletes at the gym like that but not me, your best friend who just traveled half the globe to see you!" Oikawa tries to make an excuse but it doesn’t sit well with Iwaizumi.

"I am dead serious. Get your Argentinian ass outside, now."

Huffing in defeat, the brunette joins his best friend.

Now, originally Oikawa only meant to stay for a week, but one week turned into two and now the stay is reaching the third week.

In the beginning, it was only a stay because of training but now the practice time is over and before the real game starts, the coaches gave them two weeks off additionally.

You have the patience of a saint, really, while Iwaizumi feels each day his patience getting thinner and thinner. You can’t blame your partner, since he sees him at work AND at home.

The worst part for Iwaizumi is, he can’t have sex with you, because whenever he tries to seduce you or vice versa, the Setter seems to have a hidden talent on knowing when the two of you want some alone time.

On the couch, in the kitchen, the bathroom, you can’t even have alone time in your own bedroom because Oikawa is bursting in your bedroom every night, complaining and gossiping about every. single. player. while laying in the middle between you and Iwaizumi.

But now, even your patience begins to run out, your sexual frustration beginning to eat you alive.

So on a Tuesday night, you and Iwaizumi want to go out on a date, hopefully stopping by a hotel afterwards to relieve some of that tension. Or all of it.

And Oikawa wants to tag along, not wanting to be left alone in the apartment by himself, while the athletic trainer is trying to hint at his best friend that he wants to have sex with you.

"Why can’t I come with you?" The Setter whines.

"Because (Y/N) and I are going out tonight, we want some privacy to ourselves, because you couldn’t give us any for the last damn three weeks."

Oikawa nods.

"Just the two of us."

He nods again.

"Alone." Iwaizumi feels like speaking to a four year old.

"Alright, no problem, I’ll try to hit up Matsun or Maki." Oikawa whistles while making himself comfortable on the couch again, texting his former teammates.

Iwaizumi feels his anger rising abruptly, about to snap his neck and before you have to clean up a crime scene, you push your lover out of the apartment before an accidental murder happens.

In the end, you and Iwaizumi don’t even make it to dinner because you teased him during the ride, caressing his thigh up and down.

You don’t come back to the apartment for another two days, missing thousands of messages from Oikawa, enjoying each others bodies like you did the first time you got intimate.