#anyway everyday i have to read stupid words

[viiennie]

𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊��𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

Gojo Satoru x f!reader

chapter one

Tags and warnings: Zombie Apocalypse, mentions of gore (including blood and death), slight angst (?), spoilers to ‘Happiness’, eventual smut, female reader, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, lovey dovey sex in the midst of a literal lock down, masturbation, slow burn kinda?, fluff, romance, drugs, manipulation, exhibition, gojo is a pervertttttt, mdni — 18+, enemies to lovers word count: 4093

You never thought that at the ripe age of 29, you’d be taking walks for the sole purpose of hoping to find dropped money on the road. 

Hey, You can’t be blamed now, can you? Life is completely unpredictable, and you’re just glad you at least have an apartment to sleep in and a job that pays kinda enough. But what can you do when the bills are still high, and you still got a loan to settle? Your salary barely covers your living expenses, and you’ve got those damn loan sharks to be worrying about to add to the list. 

You always thought life would go well after graduating Criminology and getting a job in the military. To top it all off, you climbed the ranks and secured a respectable position without getting your hands dirty. Back then, you lived on the tallest floor of your dream apartment and bought all your dream cars to drive and wake the neighbors with.

It was the sweetest life had gotten. 

If only you didnt—

Riiiiiing!

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, the lights flashing as the name of your boss along with the picture of a very stern looking pig pops up on screen. You sigh, staring at it and pondering if you should answer the call. Your finger hovers over the green logo, a hesitation in the twitch of your digits as you debate missing the call and getting a handful of scolding when you go to work or answering and getting the same amount of scolding for something stupid you probably did while on the job. 

Another sigh leaves your lips when you decide to answer.

“There’s a job for you. I emailed all the details to you.”

He hangs up, not even bothering to hear a response from you. 

God, he’s always like that. Acting like some VIP, treating everyone else like they were below him. Countless times have you slapped the shit out of him in your dreams, and countless times have you hurled curses at him behind his back. Why’s there always a stick up his ass anyway?

You open the pdf file in your email, groaning at the 42 pages you have to read over. 

You work as a bodyguard now, the only place that didn’t blacklist you being an executive protection services company. Your job was to make sure your clients stayed out of harm's way, and so far, it’s been an absolute piece of cake compared to your previous occupation. You just had to stand behind them, look intimidating, and keep that up for the rest of the day.

As you skim over the file, you realize that this was the typical case of a nepo baby being rebellious whilst getting neglected by their parents. It was always, ‘I just can’t seem to control my teenager’ ‘He gets out of hand and always ends up almost killing himself.’ but they have never considered the fact that they’ve barely present in their child’s life?

Your duties consisted of absurd things, like cooking and making meals for the client, ensuring he does not leave the house, and even doing the laundry. A rise of annoyance boils in you as you continue to read down your responsibilities—things that nannies would do. If they wanted to hire one then they should’ve contacted someone else, not a body guarding company. Besides, why was this task assigned to you and not someone more qualified? You don’t ever remember putting ‘experienced nanny’ in your resume. 

No. You’re not doing this. You had your pride to—

Total Salary: 15,000,000 ₩ per day.

Well, it’s not like taking care of a child is that hard right? Besides, you do these so-called duties everyday for yourself! Not like adding an extra pair of clothes to the washing machine or cooking for two would be that hard. And! you get to sleep in a million dollar penthouse for three whole days, who wouldn’t miss that offer? And the living expenses are covered by your client too? Man, the pros are really outweighing the cons right now. 

You carefully read through the pages, scanning over the personal details of your new beloved client.

Full Name: Gojo Satoru

Birthday: 1994 December 7

Age: 28

Gender: Male

You blink

Once, twice, and then thrice.

Are you seeing this right?

The person you’re going to be babysitting is in fact not a little boy, but a grown ass man at the ripe age of 28? The person you’re going to be cooking and cleaning for is a grown adult capable of doing these daily chores with all of his four limbs intact? This couldn’t possibly be right, could it? You shake your head, scrolling back to look at the delicious view of the 15 million displayed on your phone screen. So what if it was a grown man? That means you wouldn’t have to be too worried about buying toddler food and all that, right? And him being an adult means he’s perfectly capable of doing his own chores, meaning, less work for you! 

Yeah, that’s right.

Things don’t have to be negative.

You inhale, gathering your thoughts and prayers, hoping this wasn’t about to be the worst decision of your life. No way it will be. It’s just for three short days anyway. And what if you actually end up getting along well with the guy?

Day One

Standing before these grand doors bring back memories you never liked. It reminded you of what you used to be—what kind of glory you used to hold. The keys in your palms feel cold, like ice that doesn’t melt despite the warmth your skin radiates. It feels illegal entering someone’s home without knocking— it's like you’re trespassing. But what can you do when those are your instructions?

The door to the penthouse swings open, the sound echoing through the spacious hall. The moment you step inside, the air feels different—cool, fresh, like everything in this space was designed with immaculate precision. You take a second to absorb the layout: sleek, minimalistic furniture, modern art pieces hanging from the walls, soft ambient lighting, and large glass windows that offer a wonderful view of the city. It’s everything you’d expect from a man who has money to burn but little else to do with it. It’s also everything you’ve ever wanted ever since falling into this pit of poverty.

You take another step in, and the door closes behind you with a soft click—a sound that tells you you’ve just sealed your fate. You take a deep breath in, to prepare your beating heart, and exhale, reminding yourself that you’re here now, and that this is really happening. 

“Hello?” you call out, your voice carrying a bit farther than you intended in the vast silence. You wait for a response, but there’s nothing but an eerie stillness. You feel awkward in this large space, your senses used to the small cozy apartment you lived in. You feel like a misplaced object here, like a piece of banana peel in the middle of a diamond sea. 

Then, suddenly, you hear a loud thud from what sounds like the far side of the apartment, followed by a burst of laughter. It’s carefree and youthful, almost too much so for someone who’s supposed to be the CEO’s son. Your eyes narrow as you start walking further into the apartment, your boots clicking sharply against the polished floor.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!" The voice calls out lazily, not even bothering to sound apologetic.

You stop in your tracks as a figure finally appears at the threshold of what you assume is the study. Satoru Gojo strides out, looking like he couldn’t care less about your presence. His white hair is slightly messy, falling carelessly over his forehead, and he’s dressed casually in a loose-fitting white shirt and black pants, the kind of outfit someone of his status might wear to keep things comfortable while still looking polished. You stare at him for a moment, noting how his playful, almost mischievous grin makes him seem like someone who hasn’t taken a single thing seriously in his life. Maybe this is why they told you to just walk in without warning. This guy didn’t even bother standing up the moment he heard someone entering his home.

“So, you’re the new babysitter?” His tone is light, amused, and you can already tell he’s not taking this job seriously at all. He doesn’t even bother to get off the couch, merely reclining with his legs sprawled out in front of him. “I thought they’d send someone with a little more... personality.”

Your lips press into a tight line, frustration rising in your chest. This was the guy you were supposed to be protecting? It was a far cry from what you had imagined. It’s okay! You expected this. I mean, the pay wouldn’t be 15 million for no reason right? All you had to do was endure this asshat for 3 days, and you’d be out, never having to do it again with the amount of money you’ll accumulate by then. 

“I’m not your babysitter, Gojo,” you reply flatly, setting the file down on the coffee table between you. “I’m here to ensure you stay out of trouble for the next three days.”

He doesn’t seem fazed, however. He tilts his head back and stretches his arms over his head with a casual ease that only someone with his kind of wealth and status could pull off. “Oh, come on, you don’t have to be so serious all the time, miss. Relax a little. This doesn’t have to be a hard job, does it?” 

You nod, a small, twitching smile on your lips. Yeah, this doesn’t have to be hard for the two of you, just don’t let yourself be absorbed into his insufferableness, and things will be all fine and dandy.

The smile on his face never fades, though there’s something in his eyes—something that makes you realize he’s enjoying the tension between you more than he should. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he regards you with a look that borders on teasing. “Don’t worry miss bodyguard, I’ll make sure to cooperate extra well for you,” he says, his voice oozing with mock sincerity.

Gojo’s eyes flicker with curiosity for a brief moment before his grin turns more knowing. You were far from what he expected. When his father told him he’d be hiring professionals to keep him in check, he was expecting a middle aged old grump with a tragic backstory, not an angry little kitten that was his age. 

You take a deep breath, keeping your cool. You’re a professional. You endured 4 years of brutal training, and spent the next 5 years being an active soldier, one man child isn’t gonna break you. “Where do we start?”

“Start?” Gojo repeats, his eyes twinkling with a challenge. “I’ll give you a tour of the place. Get settled in, and we’ll figure things out from there.” All of a sudden, he’s all buddy-buddy and normal, standing from his seat with a groan that tells you it’s the first time in a few long hours he’s standing from that couch.

“Okay,” you mutter, though you know the last thing you need is to be stuck following him around all day. But you have no choice now—this is the job you so happily accepted. Perhaps you just had a bad first impression, right? Maybe this is just his personality and he’s actually a nice guy under all that ego!

Gojo leads you through the penthouse with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, his movements exaggerated for your benefit. The whole time, you feel his eyes on you, like he’s analyzing you as much as you’re analyzing him. He talks non-stop, making sarcastic comments here and there, each one more annoying than the last, and you keep your responses short but interactive. Last thing you wanna hear is him whining about you being a cold person. 

When you finally arrive at the guest room, he gestures dramatically to the sleek, modern decor. “There you go. It’s not much, but it’ll do for the next ten days. I hope you like the view,” he adds, pulling back the heavy curtain to reveal a stunning view of the city skyline, one you’ve seen countless times in your dreams. 

You take a step inside, but before you can say anything, Gojo’s already made his way back to the living room. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

As you stand there, staring at the sprawling apartment, you feel a strange tension in the air. You’ve dealt with dangerous situations, but this—this was something else. This penthouse may be the safest area in the entire apartment complex, but there’s something in here that greatly unsettles you, that what’s dangerous isn’t outside of this place, but inside. Your eyes linger on the door that your manchild is behind and you finally realize how hard your heart is thumping against your chest. 

It’s Gojo.

Gojo’s the dangerous one here. 

Shaking your head, you set down your bags, neatly placing them against the door before you pull out your phone to check if there were any updates from your boss—any additional information or duties perhaps, but your notification bar is empty. (thankfully)

Ding!

Omg, have you heard about the attack at the training center?

You raise an eyebrow at the text you received from a friend that was followed by a 10 second video she sends. The thumbnail sends chills down your spine, the image of an unsettling trainee with bloodshot eyes and protruding veins being the first thing you see. He has blood dripping down his chin, his teeth stained with a deep red. There's no possible way that was real. This is probably a prank, right?

As you play the video, you realize the unmoving body in the background with blood pooling around it isn't a prank. Neither is the way the zombie thing continues to bang its head against the glass part of the door where the cameraman stands behind. You can hear people screaming in the background and the labored breathes of the person holding the camera.

What the fuck?

For this type of thing to happen in a military training center is unheard of. With the amount of security and the amount of trained professionals around, they would shoot at the sight of suspicious movement. Perhaps that trainee was infected in the facility itself?

You sigh, shaking your head. That wasn't for you to worry about. You're sure they've already taken care of the situation, making sure no one else would be harmed after one casualty. Besides, you weren't even in the military anymore, so what business did you have with all this?

You lock your phone and toss it onto the counter with a bit more force than intended, the dull clatter echoing in your quiet apartment. For a moment, you stand there, staring at the blank wall in front of you, the disturbing video replaying itself in your mind despite your best efforts to shake it off. It was none of your business, you remind yourself. You weren't a part of that world anymore—no chain of command, no classified briefings, no need to carry the weight of threats on your shoulders.

Still, the unease lingers like an itch you can't quite scratch. The image of that bloodied trainee and the helpless body in the background refuses to leave your thoughts, clawing its way into the forefront no matter how hard you try to shove it back. The screams and the clattering of rushes footsteps ring in your ears like a broken radio.

“Snap out of it,” you mutter to yourself, dragging a hand through your hair. Standing still wasn’t helping. Maybe you just needed to clear your head, step outside for a bit and distract yourself with something mundane. Groceries. That was the perfect excuse to leave this place. And besides, it would help to restock in the case that a zombie apocalypse would really break out soon.

Opening the door, you’re surprised to see Gojo sitting in the living room, manspread as he switches through the channels with a bored look on his face. His eyes glaze over to you, a grin stretches through his lips. “Out so soon? I know my face is irresistible, but you barely spent 5 minutes in there, miss bodyguard.” As soon as he opens his mouth, it’s like flies are flocking over to him. You push aside the feeling of annoyance, not wanting to waste energy on him. 

“I’m going out to buy groceries. Is there anything you want?” You sigh for the fifth time today, hand resting on the doorknob of the front door. 

“Anything sweet pleaseee” He hums sending you a wink that has you cringing before focusing back on the TV.

Nodding, you make sure the credit card provided to you is safe in your pocket before heading out. You’re greeted by a kind cleaning lady who smiles at you with fondness, “My, I didn’t know such a pretty young lady lived here!” Her voice is soft, reminding you of your grandmother whom you dearly miss. You smile back at her, feeling yourself relax in her presence, “I’m not moving in, auntie. Just staying with a friend for a few days.”

“Oh my, that’s a shame. I would have loved to see you everyday!”

You chuckle at her response, politely saying goodbye before stepping into the empty elevator. 

Whilst you were out on a grocery store run, Gojo shuts off the TV, a serious expression overturning his previously cheerful one. He was getting sick and tired of his father hiring these people to watch over him like he was a child. Being a detective was a step he took to free himself from the chains of being born into his family, a step he took to rebel against his unreasonable father, who was a businessman obsessed with continuing his legacy, he didn't expect the price he had to pay would be getting house arrested by his father in his own home with some stranger.

He hops off of the couch, walking over to your room and opening the door without a care in the world. He snoops through your things, looking through your identification cards, opening all the pockets in your bag. He’s surprised when he discovers an ID tucked away in the deepest depths of your bag, as if you didn't want to see it but kept it with you because you didn't want to let go.

​​Gojo's fingers brush against the smooth, metallic edge of the card as he pulls it out of the hidden pocket in your bag. The ID feels substantial in his hands, heavier than an ordinary card, exuding an air of authority and importance. He almost feels guilty snooping around like this.

The front of the card is dominated by a sleek, black matte finish that absorbs light, giving it a tactical, almost stealth-like appearance. At the top, bold silver letters gleam against the dark background:

“13th Special Mission Brigade”

Below that, a faint watermark of the Decapitation Unit’s insignia—a black panther—catches the light at certain angles, visible only upon close inspection. 

Your photograph occupies the upper-left corner, a stern, no-nonsense expression on your face. You wear your ceremonial full dress uniform, badges of what you've done and where you've been displayed onto the clean cloth. Next to the photo, your name is printed in capital letters, the font crisp and official: 

Y/N L/N

Lieutenant Colonel, Decapitation Unit

Beneath your name, your serial number and rank are listed in smaller, but equally precise text, alongside a QR code that has been scratched out, an occurrence that happens only if you've been discharged from duty.

The right side of the card displays the unit's motto in embossed silver script:  

Silence in Action, Swift in Justice.

Just below the motto is a small holographic seal that shifts between the South Korean flag and the emblem of the Decapitation Unit, further verifying its authenticity that Gojo was most definitely not doubting at this point. Around the edges, faintly visible microtext runs continuously, forming a border of tiny but legible words repeating:  

For honor, for country, for the safety of all.

On the back, the design is equally meticulous. The background is a faint camouflage pattern in shades of gray and black, with a magnetic stripe running across the top. Centered in bold red letters is a warning:  

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY: This card must be presented upon request. Unauthorized use is punishable by law.

Beneath it, a small, clear rectangular panel reveals an embedded fingerprint that has also been scratched out by a blade. The rest of the back contains rows of text detailing clearance levels, blood type, and emergency contact information.

Gojo turns the card over in his hands, raising an eyebrow. "So, former Lieutenant Colonel, huh?" he murmurs to himself, a mix of admiration and suspicion flickering in his eyes. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he slipped the card back where he found it, making sure to tuck it away with the same care. 

“Guess you’re not as simple as you seem, miss bodyguard,” he mutters, stepping out of your room. The gears in his mind are already turning, trying to piece together just how someone with your past ended up here, protecting him.

The buzzing of your phone on the bedside table catching his attention, the constant dings sending a mix of irritance and curiosity through him. Well, he’s already touched all your things, what more was a phone? He takes the phone in his hands, testing his luck by typing 12345 in. He face palms when your phone opens, wondering why a special forces agent would set a password like that on her phone. He opens the chat that’s been spamming you, skimming over the ‘y/n stop ignoring meee’ ‘i know you’re seeing this’ and the random emojis being sent. 

A video with the thumbnail equivalent to a zombie horror movie garners his attention, his finger tapping the play button without much thought, thinking he’d be watching some kind of trailer to an upcoming film. But he’s met with a gruesome sight, the same thing you had watched before leaving. His eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend the scene.

Then he’s reminded of a recent case he investigated before being locked in this penthouse by his father. It was manslaughter, with the victim being the front desk worker of a motel. The crime scene was gruesome—bite marks and ripped flesh along the neck of the man. They had originally thought the perpetrator fled from the scene, but as he scanned the room, he discovered the motherfucker hiding under the bed, his mouth still dripping with blood. “I don’t remember much of what happened.” He said as they interrogated him on the scene, “I just took this drug, and before I knew it, I kinda blacked out.” 

He had originally thought it was a classic case of reckless manslaughter under the influence of illegal narcotics because the perpetrator seemed perfectly human. No bloodshot eyes and no visible veins like in the video he watched. 

Perhaps they were completely unrelated. 

He’s about to erase all evidence of him snooping around your phone until the last message your friend sends makes him pause.

‘They say he returned to normal when he was transported into the vehicle, that’s so freaky!’ 

Okay, they’re definitely related.

He puts your phone back on the table, rushing to his room where he opens his drawer and removes the hidden compartment that contained a capsule he found in the crime scene of the motel safely sealed in a tiny ziplock bag. It’s clear blue with a shine around the edges. He opens his laptop, entering the police force search engine and encoding his badge number before surfing the net for information about a blue capsule drug. 

The most similar one in appearance is a treatment drug for pneumonia called, ‘Next’. It had failed due to the fact that it was mutagenic, meaning it had the chance of mutating human DNA. 

It didn’t take a lot of brain cells to conclude that this drug was probably the cause for the odd series of events. Judging from the way an apocalypse hasn’t started and he doesn’t hear people screaming for their lives, then the military probably has this disease under control. Just when he’s about to sigh from relief, he hears a loud thud from the hallway of his apartment building, followed by three more before an eerie silence deafens him. He has half the mind to check outside, but he knows that’s probably the last thing he wants to do. The amount of horror movies he’s binge watched tells him that the first to die is always the one to check whatever’s going on.

Then his front door opens. 

“(y/n)...?” He calls out, goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“Gojo, stay in your room.”

He’s not sure why, but he’s relieved it’s you who walked through that door, and not some flesh eating monster.

a/n: first chapter outtt yaaayyyyy!!!! kinda scared for this series bc the premiere didnt get a lot of attention😞 anyway!! hope u guys enjoyed this chapter💖

taglist: @atomicweaselpaperapricot @boothillglazer

[seadem-on]

…

[katszumi]

Studying with bakugo is almost NEVER studying with bakugo. The mf can yell at you to pay attention all he wants but a few seconds of it and you’re already back to yapping about the latest drama. Drawing little doodles on your paper (and a few on his) while you tell him about how kuroiro finally confessed to Komori from class 1b, and although he doesn’t like to admit it he’s paying more attention to your yapping then his studying. (Your the only person who can do that)

i hope i did your ask justice😔 this is the first one i’ve done, but thank you sm for requesting. and gosh, i love silly highschool romance sm REQUEST MORE PLS

sorta linked to this but can def be read as a standalone

“did you hear about kuroiro’s confession today?” you asked. you were laid on bakugou’s room floor, your notebook wide open with a few math equations along with a dozen of doodles.

you just asked him another silly question, one of the countless ones that you’ve already made in a hour.

bakugou already knew that you were a sociable person from the way you find a new person to talk to everyday, but he didn’t expect you to be this talkative.

truth be told, you’ve talked more than you have actually studied. which was the main reason why you had come to his room at nearly eight o’clock at night, close to his bedtime.

he only accepted the late study session was because the other reason for you to come was so he could speak with you privately. this was the best way he could do it secretly without being found out.

bakugou looked up from his textbook, directly at you. “no. not that i even care about that stuff anyway.”

your chin rested in the palm of your hand, silently drumming your fingers against your cheek.

“it’s hilarious though, cmon!” you pleaded with a small smile on your face.

“we’re supposed to be studying, y/n. did you forget that you didn’t exactly ace that test?” he rhetorically asked.

you pursed your lips together in a thin line, looking away from bakugou and back onto your textbook. you were dumb enough to even think you could gossip with bakugou.

he offered to help you study, not to bond more as friends clearly.

you picked up your pencil and began to write the equation that was written in the hardbook next to you.

hearing that there was no response from you, bakugou internally began to slightly panic. it was never like you to just shut up so easily. he couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that he came off too rude.

it’s not that he didn’t want to hear you speak, he just didn’t want to make his crush on you so obvious. he was trying so hard to be his normal self which was much harder towards you than he thought.

bakugou placed his textbook down, leaning back into the palm of his hands behind him. “what did that extra do?”

almost immediately, you released the pencil that was in your hand and made eye contact with the ruby eyed male in front of you. a smile tugged on your lips, one that bakugou couldn’t help but think was so fuckin’ cute.

“he made her a bouquet of mushrooms, because you know, her whole mushroom quirk thing. he tried to give it to her discreetly but someone walked past and made it a whole big deal.” you described. “honestly, i feel bad cause i think they’re both kinda shy. they probably didn’t want that attention.”

bakugou unknowingly listened to every word of yours, feeling himself being drawn into you. what was it about your voice that made it so compelling for him?

if it were anyone else like stupid shitty hair or raccoon eyes, he’d shut it down immediately, not caring about a single word they had to say about it.

but, he found it a little more difficult than usual to refuse when it came to you.

he snickered. “public confession? what a romcom move of him.”

you looked back down, noticing bakugou’s blank paper. out of boredom, you grasped onto his notebook. you started to doodle on the small square in the upper left corner; a couple of hearts, stars, dots to make it less bland.

“i think it was sweet. it’s hard to confess already, but to do it in front of an audience? takes guts honestly.”

bakugou watched you draw on his paper. he felt a little jump in his heart, some part of him liking the fact that you took initiative to add your own touch to something of his.

something so stupid. so small. but he couldn’t help but feel a tad giddy.

bakugou sat upright, gulping nothing but his own saliva. “is that something you would like?”

at first, bakugou curses at himself. why would he ask something like that? something that could definitely give away his small crush on you. but he remained his same stone-cold look.

you looked up at bakugou, noticing his eyes softening slightly before returning to their original position.

you thought about it long before responding. “nah. don’t think that’s something i’d really prefer. i’d like a simple confession with just the two of us.” you described.

it seemed a little weird to you that you were casually speaking of your own relationship preference with bakugou, but you tried your hardest not to think too much about it.

you assumed he was only trying to make small talk.

“good.” again, with bakugou’s one worded response. even though he didn’t add more to his sentence, his eyes lingered with yours. as if he was deciding something or carefully analyzing you. but it was a different look. not a competitive, angry look. but rather a tender look. one you have never seen bakugou wear, ever.

suddenly, he looked away, back onto his textbook. you seemingly didn’t mind considering the small tingle you were receiving in your face.

bakugou looked over his shoulder, begging to anyone even the gods above to remove the deep-set blush that was occurring on his face.

the male cleared his throat. “alright, let’s fuckin’ study. gossipin’ and yappin’ won’t help you get a better damn test score.” he chose the defensive route to move on.

you silently agreed with a nod. but, your mind goes back to the thought that you successfully just gossiped with the katsuki bakugou. the one that’s listed to only care about being the number one hero.

you bit the inside of your cheek to hide a smile as you tapped your pencil against your notebook.

just now, a kaleidoscope of butterflies slipped through the cracks of your stone wall, entering your stomach, and began to harvest a life within that had bakugou’s name branded on it.

[erwinsvow]

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

[froggiewrites]

i love your writing so much and im so glad you opened requests!! :) i would love if you wrote a fic about zoro being dominant (maybe some spanking/spitting?) him having a dirty mouth, and perhaps some edging? i have another idea that i'll send in a diff message too! even if you dont choose this one i look forward to reading the others <3

I've never written anything with a lot of dirty talk or dominance before, but I tried my best, and I hope I did it justice! 😊

Playing Rough

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're being terribly stubborn, insisting on fighting battles you can't handle. Zoro decides to put you in your place. Warnings: Smut, Dom Zoro, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Slight Edging, Begging Word Count: 2.4k

It was a stupid argument, one that shouldn’t have happened.

The battle you had been through was rough, sure, but you didn’t take any damage that wouldn’t heal. Zoro had insisted you not fight on your own, not take on any challenge you couldn’t handle, and you had insisted that you were more than capable of handling it. And you were. You came home, didn’t you? And the bruises might be nasty and the stitches weren’t terribly fun either, but you were in one piece. You had managed to hobble your way back to the ship on your own, and you didn’t even collapse before making it into Zoro’s arms.

You were too out of it to comprehend the words he said, though you understood the panic and fear in his tone well enough. And you certainly understood the words he spoke when you first woke up.

“Are you stupid?”

“Excuse me?”

Before you could truly get angry, his arms were around you, crushing you against his chest. You can feel a slight tremor as he takes a deep breath, nose buried in your hair, taking in your scent, your warmth, any evidence that you are here with him and alive. He takes a shuddering inhale, the closest thing to weakness you’ve ever heard from him, before his voice comes back again, rough and absolutely furious. “You almost died.”

“I didn’t almost die.” You try to say it sweetly, soothingly, but his fingers tighten in a way that is less than kind.

“You almost died. You went even though you knew you shouldn’t, and you almost died. I almost lost you.” His voice isn’t shaking, not quite, but you swear you feel the tremor anyway. Zoro is not a man easily rattled, yet somehow you have shaken him to his very foundation.

“You could never lose me, Zoro. I knew what I was doing, I promise.”

“You knew the risk you were taking?”

“Yes. But I had to do it.” You bring a hand up to run through his hair. “I knew I would come back. I knew what I was doing, and I knew I was strong enough. I promise.”

You’re suddenly devoid of his warmth as he pulls away, glaring at you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Chopper said if you got back even a few minutes later…” He trails off, clenching his teeth.

“But I didn’t,” you insist. “Everything turned out fine, Zoro.”

“Do you think that’s all that matters?”

“Kind of!”

He huffs. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He stalks out of the room, slamming the door as he leaves. You throw yourself back onto the bed, wincing as you realize your ribs are very much broken. Every inch of you is bruised, and it hurts to breathe. But it was worth it. He would understand that eventually. Not every fight has a pretty ending, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t finish them.

He did not understand, as it turns out.

He still helped you as you healed, your dear protector always carrying you so gently, so purposefully. But you could feel the distance, the tension. Neither of you acknowledged it, focusing on your health first and foremost, but it haunted every moment you two were together. Touches were fleeting, conversation was sparse. But finally, finally, today you have been officially given a clean bill of health by Chopper.

“You’re cleared for everyday activity, but I still want you to stay out of fights for a while. And don’t do anything that reckless again!” Chopper’s words are law when it comes to your health, so you’ll do your best, but you can’t help but think of how no one else on this ship would follow such instructions.

“I’ll try.” No promises you can’t keep, and Chopper purses his lips a little when he realizes, but after a moment he simply nods. He’s used to patients even more stubborn than you, of course.

As you leave the office, ready to get back to your regular life, you’re instantly met by Zoro’s broad chest as he pulls you into him.

“You’re fine now?” There’s a tension to his voice you don’t fully understand.

“I–yeah? I guess?”

“Good.” He throws you over his shoulder, not exactly gently, now that he knows being rough with you won’t open your stitches.

“What are you doing?” You try to pull yourself up to see where he’s taking you, but he gives you a quick swat on the ass that makes you squeak as you fall limp again.

“You’ll see.” He jogs down a hallway you only recognize right before you reach your destination: his room. When the door slams shut behind you, enclosing you in darkness, it almost sounds like a death knell.

He throws you onto the bed carelessly, pushing a hand onto your stomach to keep you from bouncing. His other hand makes quick work of your pants as you squirm, not out of fear but out of pure confusion.

“Zoro? What’s going on?”

“We have a conversation to finish.” His voice is flat. You don’t need to ask him which conversation. You know damn well which one. He’s finally rid you of your pants, throwing them carelessly to the floor, and he begins to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“Is that what this is going to be? A conversation?”

He hums. “No, I guess not.” His callused hands are rough against your bare skin as he unhooks your bra and grabs your breasts. “You aren’t going to be doing much talking, today. It’s finally time for you to listen.” He kneads your chest for a moment, pinching harshly, before he moves to slide off your panties.

“Listen?” Your voice is a little strained as you feel his fingers slide against your bare skin for the first time in weeks.

“Yeah, listen. You weren’t willing before, so I have to try something else.” He flips you over before pulling you onto his lap, ass in the air. “Make you remember our roles here.”

“Our roles?”

“Yeah. I’m the protector of the ship, of our crew. That’s my job.”

“Oh? And what’s mine?”

“In general? To survive. Right now? To take what I give you.”

“And what are you giving me?”

“Do you think you’re in a position to interrogate me right now?” His hand grabs one of your ass cheeks, an attempt to remind you exactly who’s in charge. And you know, of course, who’s in charge here. But that doesn’t mean you can’t push him.

“You’ve been answering, haven’t you?” You can’t keep the mischief out of your voice.

He chuckles in spite of himself. “Yeah, I have. I’m being too nice, aren’t I?” His voice gets a little deeper, an intensity creeping in. “I’ll give you one more, as a treat. I’m giving you exactly what you’ve earned, for acting so fucking recklessly. And then, if you’re good? I’ll give you my cock. I’m sure you want it, hm? All cooped up in the infirmary for weeks, thinking about it, knowing you can’t have it. I bet it’s been driving you insane.”

With that, you feel the sharp sting of his hand as he brings it down. It makes you cry out as it connects with your soft flesh, but you know he isn’t using even half of his strength, holding back, somehow taking care of you even now. You feel him harden when he does it, though you can’t tell if it’s from the sound you make or from the action itself. Maybe both. His hand gently caresses the growing handprint, a moment of tenderness, before he raises his hand again and you tense.

“Just relax, sweetheart. It can’t be any worse than what you put us through.” Another smack, this one on the other cheek, and another, and another, alternating each time. You can’t help the small squeaks and whines you let out, and Zoro can’t hide the effect they have on him, breathing growing heavier and smacks becoming more intense as you both lose yourselves.

“That’s it. One more. You can take one more.”

“Ah!”

“That’s right. Another. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re practically dripping.” You clench your thighs together, trying to hide the fact that he’s right, about this, about the fight, about everything here. When you try, he tuts, bringing his hand down yet again, making you jolt. “Don’t go hiding yourself from me, pretty thing. You’re mine, every inch of you. You can’t hide a thing from me. Can you say it for me, sweet thing? Admit that you’re mine?”

“I’m yours, Zoro!”

“And that I was right?”

“You were—ah!” His hand comes down again, but you force your way through. “You were right, Zoro!”

“There we go.” His hands finally stop, coming to rest on your red and stinging ass. “Was that so hard to admit?”

You keep silent, your stubbornness still carrying you through.

He laughs at you. “You know, I could add a bit to your punishment for not answering. But,” his fingers find your entrance, wet and waiting, “I think you’d probably like that, huh?”

You hum, pushing your face into the bed, trying to hide your red face and ears. He lifts you up, pulling you up into a sitting position, holding your chin and forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Hiding again? You really liked your punishment, didn’t you? As much as I’d love to continue, that’s not all I had in store. So eyes on me.”

He quickly strips off his shirt before easily lifting you with one arm so he can slide off his pants. As he does, you can see a wet spot where you were resting. It’s a little mortifying, realizing how easily he can turn you to putty in his hands, literally dripping wet for him. Your embarrassment quickly subsides when he frees his cock, red and twitching, and you realize you hold just as much sway over him as he does over you. He lines himself up with your entrance, ready to give you exactly what you want.

As he slowly slides you down on his cock, you let out a moan, and he groans in response. His eyes are locked onto where your bodies meet, taking in the sight of you stretching around him. “Fuck, you take me so perfectly. Like you were made for me.”

Once he’s fully sheathed in you, you both take a moment to breathe in, enjoying the feeling of this first sweet stretch. The second you breathe out, he begins to bounce you roughly, making you squeak. “Oh, you thought I was going to go easy on you now?” He laughs, continuing his fast pace, fingertips digging into your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, pretty thing. Bouncing on my cock just like that.”

One hand leaves your hips, moving up your body, finding its place at your chest. He pinches your nipples, making you squeal, before he leans forward, breathing heavily in your ear. “God, when you squeeze around me like that…” he squeezes your chest again, moaning. “You kill me, sweetheart.”

His hips continue to snap harshly into yours, pounding relentlessly as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and leaving a mark that clearly defines you as his. You can feel the heat rising as your orgasm builds, your sounds growing more wanton and desperate as Zoro begins to pound into you even faster, and faster.

And then it stops.

“Wha–”

You can feel the rumble of his chest against your back as he laughs. “Oh, did you think I was going to just give it to you?”

“I–But–I was good,” you say petulantly. Your voice is still a half whine as you try to ground yourself, the tension in your body slowly unraveling and leaving nothing but a cold dissatisfaction.

“Hm.” He presses his cheek to your shoulder, humming as though he’s thinking. “Well. Maybe if you beg you can cum on my cock. If you’re real sweet about it.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly the frantic cry leaves your mouth. “Please, please, please Zoro can I cum? Please?”

“Hm. I think you can do better.”

“Please, can I cum on your cock, Zoro! Please, I need you, please!”

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely.”

His fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around it. He enters you again, pace slower this time, but strokes deep and deliberate. You can feel every inch of him as he pulls in and out, feel the heat of his breath on your ear, hear his quiet moans as you clench around him. He will give you your release, but not as quickly as you want it. You’ll get it on his terms.

Even still, you reach your precipice quickly, and he whispers huskily in your ear. “Are you ready?”

You’re beyond all practical thought at this point, but you still manage two simple words. “Yes! Please.”

“Alright then, pretty thing. Cum for me.” With one final thrust, one final movement of his fingers, you do, gushing around him as the world shatters. You’re panting, desperate for breath, but you can’t seem to make your lungs listen to you over the symphony of pleasure you’re drowning in. Right as you manage to regain some control of yourself, you can feel Zoro go tense beneath you before you feel him spill inside of you, filling you to the brim as he quietly moans out your name. 

You both sit together a moment, you limp in Zoro’s arms as he falls back onto the bed, before he speaks up.

“Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again. Really.” His arms wrap around you a little tighter. “I…I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“I won’t do it again, Zoro, I promise.” Your voice is weak, but you look up to see a sincere smile creep onto his face and you know he heard you. “...Are there other things that might get me punished like this? Less deadly things?”

He laughs. “Oh, there are plenty. And I’m sure you’ll do them all.” His hand runs through your hair affectionately. “But I’ll find more excuses to spank you later. I think you need some rest.”

With that, you two simply lay together, the only sound in the room your quiet breaths and the sound of Zoro’s heartbeat, growing slower and slower as you both drift off.

[ghostykapi]

shouldn't, couldn't, would.

kim dahyun & actress!reader

YIPIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE // angst

being an actress means your love life is always full of stupid things and heartbreak

when you were working in your 3rd film, you got your first taste of what it means to be in a situationship. the boy was older than you, always showing you how someone should treat you. he left you at 3 am when he had a new casting call overseas

right after, you meet this new guy, he's too mean, too annoying and easily irritable. you didn't know any better when he acted different with you, letting you assume and fall, until you realize that he was only like that because you had connections he needed. you never spoke to him until now

a few weeks later, you hit off with this sweet lady. she's your dream girl, always making sure you feel reassured and loved, always sweet and understanding, never pushing you to be someone else. quite the bummer when after 4 months she leaves you to get back to her ex

there's more, it's a list. a powerpoint presentation maybe

point being

you hate it

you don't count it anymore anyway, everything blurring in between different shoots, movie screenings, interviews for whatever series you join in, variety shows that will only get the surface of who you are

everything that you thought you wanted is now but a blur of nothing

you only find joy in the hustle and bustle of everyday commute now. each whisper or buzz casually going in and out of your ear, not caring what the others are saying. some of it are about you of course, an actor that reach stardom and still takes the public transport may lead to some speculation and assumptions

you this is where you practice you're stone cold persona, in this foreign land of the free

"miss?"

exceptions can be applied

you smile and give a little bow at the kid who gives you a letter, the shine of the glitter on her tiny hands passing on to yours.

“miss y/n! you have the prettiest smile ever!”

you giggle at the kid, her gummy smile bringing a brief feeling of warmth. she rambled on how cool you looked in that action series that premiered months ago, and you answer her every burning question of what food your character would enjoy

“would she like gummy worms miss y/n?”

“i think she would like gummy bears too”

her mom just smiles at the interaction, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ to you

it feels enough, better than lying back and forth with actor 'friends' anyway

shame that it was your stop, waving to the mother and daughter duo you step into the steps of new york's subway platforms, the fighting, gossiping and music pulling you back to the chaos of reality

strolling the on the streets of the land of where anything can happen, you wonder if you can still call this your own dream

your phone buzzes in your pocket

manager: new gig. up for it?

somehow though, at every thought of staying here, you come back to one place

so you find yourself blinking away the days, and instead of the subway in new york, you’re now riding the subway in seoul

back to korea, where your acting started

where you find half of your heartbreaks still living life

where you find what you possibly think is your latest one too

so as hours go by, you find yourself sitting in the board room to meet up the directors, casts and other staff. you mindlessly play with your phone, tuning out the noise.

it was too early to start the meeting since the rest held up in traffic, which you payed no mind to, so you kept to yourself. the only noise coming from you were the ticks and vibrations coming from your phone

until your manager slaps your arm, causing you to yelp and look up. suddenly staring at the idol in front of you

“y/n, this is kim dahyun, you will be her partner in this series based on the script”

ah yes the script that you just read last night, that you forgot to check who plays who

you stand up, giving her a firm handshake

"pleasure of meeting you kim dahyun"

stotic face, the only indication of having the pleasure to meet her is the glint in your eye. a shine that only passed by before dahyun could even think about it more

“pleasure to work with you”

bright, happy, sunny, excited and ready, that was what you got from her

so clearly, you two are complete opposites

you don’t make small talk in your first meeting, only ever giving dahyun short clipped answers when she asks questions about the script. it was to be expected at least, having a reputation of being strictly professional, cold and unapproachable

dahyun doesn’t mind, having done research on the cast, especially on you. coming prepared to withstand your chilly presence in between takes, especially when your roles are intertwined

she just watches in keen interest when she realizes you didn't really look into who is playing who until now

she just isn’t quite sure on how she would feel when she has to act with you during your scenes

especially when it’s set in a university, with her character as the usual model role students you would see in campus, and yours being the art student that’s cold and distant

dahyun still thinks she’s got this. she’ll have fun, after all this is acting

acting or not though, you can feel your nerves chip you to the bone when you talk about the script. when the director says he intentionally choose the cast closest to the characters even personality wise

to show the world your real self in the guise of a character as far as you can

you think dahyun also realizes that when the director really goes in depth with the story, how deeply intertwined you both will be until the end of the series, how this can even have the slim chance of bleeding into real life

you try not to think about it that much, only to get slapped by the thoughts of it during your first day of filming. just before you start your first take, you can feel your breath hitch at what you are about to do

“—and rolling tape!”

you bury every thought as you move to act your scene

you're meticulously drawing your sketch for a project. the university art studio is empty, expected as it's only the early start of the sem. your fellow classmates deciding that wasting energy this early

expect for you and the melody of whatever your speaker is playing. this is your ideal environment to work in

calm, peaceful, serene—

it's ruined when the door slams open, making you flinch at the sudden interruption

"hey! who the fu-"

the intruder strides in, grabbing you by the collar and smashing your lips together

it takes about 10 more kisses in the middle of the room for you to push her away, gasping out of shock and the need for air

"you said you didn't want anyone else to see us" you furrow your eyebrows, your lips stained with that pink gloss she had on. whatever you are saying is not getting in her head

"you let that man touch you" she's colored in jealousy, the anger in her eyes complementing the fire that comes in her actions "you let him hug you"

"a hug!" you find yourself stumped "you barged in, kissed me by surprise, all because i let a friend hug me!"

"i don't like sharing" scoffing, she points a finger to your chest "i don't share remember?"

baffled, you snap

"then ask me out, put a label on us."

she stays silent, everything does. the fire is gone, the loud jealousy is gone, only nothing, predictable, bitter silence

"labels are stupid"

that's not part of the script

"then don't come in and distract me from my work"

she huffs, and turns around to leave the room, slamming the poor door in the process

"cut! great work everybody! but let's do another round just to be sure. take 10"

you stare at the door, for a bit too long before turning around to let the make up artists touch up your lips, makeup and hair

the lips that just felt a kiss that might have changed everything

you don't know it yet, but on the other side of the set, dahyun can barely breath, the taste of your cherry lip gloss still on, the moan you almost let out for everyone to hear engraved in her mind

she pretends that she isn't dazed by you or shocked by how good you were at kissing. pretends that she got lost in the kiss that she almost to say her lines

to say that it was a one time thing is a lie, because with every scene and every take that requires you to kiss makes it worse

god you both are so fucked

dahyun thinks your lips are the softest and most addicting ones she had ever kissed

you think that she's out here to take your sanity away with how well she can make you melt

so after a week of filming, quietly waiting at the sidelines of the set for your turn, you say the following words that shock the both of you

"you are a good kisser"

that gets her face red, despite the amount of times that she has done this for the sake of acting

"thank you, you uh are also really good" she turns away, embarrassed at how easily flustered she can be by your words

the director says nothing to both your red faces when he calls you into the set, only a twinkle in his eyes that you both know.

you try to bury that though, one thought always stays on repeat

stay professional. stay professional. stay professional. stay professional.

it keeps on getting hard to stay professional when you act in a role that gets into your head, where the idea of love fits perfectly and you wish this ending will happen to you.

it's even harder even when after initial tension dies down, she invites you out to convivence store ramen after a scene. it was mid day, but your next filming is later midnight, so you agreed.

you find yourselves two blocks away from the set filming, with some staff also tagging along on their break to stuff their faces with any food really. you both unconsciously hold hands, warming up the space between you both

you only notice it when she has to let go to get the ramen she wants, and you yearn for her to hold your hand again

she notices you pouting, so she holds your hand on the way back, she does it every time to see the faint smile appear on your lips when she does

it becomes a routine, chatting, eating, intertwining your lives together with every trip. even during the late nights studying your scripts a bit more, dahyun banters with you, bit by bit destroying your walls

“i told you chocolate milk can pair with ramen"

"not as the damn soup"

"yes it would!"

“whatever you say”

her laugh will forever haunt you, replaying in your head for the days to come despite working in the same set. itching to hear it again and again and again

you find yourself not hearing it within a confession, both in film and in real life. her eyes begging for you to even consider the slimmest chance to take that leap again

it's you who laughs in disbelief, and in shock, because you? kim dahyun choosing you?

"you won't find love with me"

a beat. a rejection

"i will"

resistance, the shine in between cracks is still there

“ok everyone back to your positions!”

“i’d like to see you try kim”

it pulls her deeper. she knows that she’s stupid for trying again and again even through your persistence and rejections

it was mistake to let her get a taste of you

now she’s head set ready to claim you

it keeps on going, scene, cut, flirt, reject, pout, late night out, study lines, practice, sleep, wake up, refresh and repeat

a cycle you hate to think about, love to practice in

well that is, until you reach the last of your scenes together, the sunset always your companion, a short window frame to even film in

the sunset is what you can focus on before you let yourself cry, letting your character take over you. it's easy, when you have many memories of heartbreak

crying over failed chances, over what potential you lost because you were scared, crying over a love chance now lost

you cry and you cry, holding the keychain she gave you, promising you that she will always end back to you

why did she have to turn around and break it by letting a man kiss her?

you try to breath, but it's hard

colors blurring together, lines breaking and shattering, everything mixing in and in turmoil until it's too much

until it doesn't

because it clicks

it clicks to you that there were no lines in the first place, because this is how real it can get

and she is the realest thing you have seen, in and out of camera

there she is, standing at the end of the hall before running to you, in panic of your tears, in worry that you are in pain, the frantic yet gentle hands wiping away your tears

so you sob, sob and sob until you feel her hands wipe away your tears

"pretty woman too gorgeous to cry"

you find yourself looking past the character she's portraying. looking straight in her eyes, trying to find the truth in everything

you try to find kim dahyun in all of these layers, begging, asking for a sign that you aren't too late

you can't find her. only the character she holds, and it's stupid how it breaks you

too bad the show must go on

"the prettiest, hottest and sexy woman" her touch is too gentle to be acting, her lips against yours blurring the line, the emotions mixing in and the words crumbling you down

“take the chance with me baby” and you close your eyes when you kiss her, the passion melting your body and igniting your soul

it takes a few more seconds before you hear the word ‘cut!’ and you feel her pull away.

with a slice in the throat, you find yourself scrambling because the bliss ended too fast

you’ve been to many ends of something, something that was almost everything

she was your everything for a few weeks

everyone is cheering, and it’s finally coming at you that this is the end

the end of another blissful delusion

it’s another heartbreak in motion

you can’t handle another one

you stand up, brushing past dahyun before she can say another word. watching as you head out, to do what you said you would do because you never got to do it before

to run away from impending hurt

to take off before it gets to you

she can’t let you end up in the same place

so she runs after you, ignoring her co workers and staff members calling for the both of you. running headfast towards what she wants

when she wanted to be an idol she bulldozed through, the bright hope of her family in her heart

when she wanted to be an actress she fought her way through, with the support of her members blazing her through

this is different, for the sole reason she’s on to prove to you she’s the only one for you

when she sees you run off into the city lights, she calls your manager to catch up to you

to the only place she knows that you would go

she finds you on the bench behind the convience store, staring into nothingness

"it's rude to run off after a confession"

no reply, and dahyun decides that it’s finally time to fully put her heart out to it's fullest extent

"i meant every word"

you don’t move, still staring at the ground in front of you

couldn't she just let it go? the label would only complicate her life

“go away dahyun”

“i can’t”

she sits beside you, eyes also looking at the ground you're staring at. only difference is that she glances at your hands, wishing she can hold them

“i do mean it” she’s determined to break this last wall “i only want you”

“bullshit dahyun” you cut her off, and you can feel the weight of everything in your heart “you must have been in the moment”

“i meant it, that i only want you-"

"dahyun you must be dreaming because do you really want me?"

she's crying too, angry at the world for hurting you too bad, blinded by fears and hurt. angry at those who used you, who didn't love you right, or even leave you with proper closure. angry at herself, at how stubborn she is to be with you

but she can't be angry at you

no she can't

"i always want you, ever since you let me ask too many questions during the briefing, when you first came with me to eat ramen, even when you keep rejecting me. i always want to love you. only you"

you can't believe her, you want to believe her

until you feel a flash of memories flood your heart

"then you are a fool"

she stands up, and you wonder if she's like every heartbreak you've ever had in your life

"i know, but at least i get to be a happy fool"

you don't know why dahyun is now kneeling right in front of you, holding your hands, holding all of the love that you thought you lost

"i can't promise you that i'll be your perfect dream, i can't promise you that we'll never experience fights and heartbreak, i can't promise you that i'll be the one"

you let her kiss your hands, to your cheeks and to your lips. slow, soft and steady

"i can promise i'll always think of you as my number one girl. i can promise that i'll do my best to get to our dates, i'll promise to make it up to you when i don't, i'll do my best to make you fall in love with love again, i'll always choose you. i can promise that"

you feel her cup your cheeks with her hands, letting you melt to her touch

"will the loveliest, sweetest, breathtaking, amazing and gorgeous woman have the pleasure of taking the first step with me?"

she coos at your tears, heart breaking at how much you can’t see it

“even when you cry you are still so pretty” she wipes your tears, gentle as always, and you can't even push her away anymore. not when she's done more to love you with all of her

maybe it's been hours that passed by, or simply just minutes. time that you don't know how to hold and comprehend when she holds you like you are her universe.

“wouldn't it be nice" she smiles, that smile that lets you fall even further "to let me call you mine?"

"you-" this is the first time in a long time you are choking up a response "i hate you"

all she does is laugh, kissing you again, this one not for the cameras. only because she wants to kiss the woman with the icy walls

"i told you, i'll find love with you"

dahyun doesn’t want anyone else but you

damn anyone that will take you away from her

all she ever wanted was you

from the moment she saw you at the meeting, from the first scene you both acted in together, to late night line practices over instant ramen, at the dressing room half asleep yet still holding her hand after walking back, in each scene that sets you both closer and closer, to each kiss that shouldn’t mean something but kept on lingering

getting into this, she really thought she was just gonna have a fun time, mingle and play along with others

she thinks she's serious with you now, because now she wants you to be a part of her life. as far as the universe will let you

"you’re engraved in my heart, i can’t let you go”

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Florists!Fem!Reader

Word count: 570

Warning: Damian and reader are in their twenties, mentions of flowers and their opposite meanings(hatred,Stupidly, etc) this post was on Pinterest that was taken from tumblr but lost it and now I can’t find OG creator. If you know the OG creator of if this looks familiar please let me know so I can tag them. Mentions of the word skank.

A/n: i never realize how horrible 2000s magazines were until I read some my mom kept😭 Also this is all Bs. I’m sure all of these are not right bc I looked them up.

the flower shop was quiet today, it was nice but boring. When the shop was running slow time I’m the place slows down too. And you hated it. You were stuck making sure the flowers were perfect even if they were and you were just trying to make your shift go faster. But none of that seemed to work.

You somehow find yourself reading old magazines from the two-thousands you found in the back of the shop. Your elbows are rested up against the top of the displaced case, flipping through the reach page as you read every box and bubble carefully.

“What makes a girl a skank? Huh?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you flip the page “Two thousands magazines are something else”

(and trust me they are).

The sound of the bell ringing makes you perk up, indicating someone entered the store. You close the magazine before you walk around the display case to face the customer who entered. You stand there surprised, eyes coming in context with green ones that you recognize from pictures and the news—also ones you see everyday when you go to sleep and when you wake up in the morning.

Damian Wayne stands in front of you and he doesn’t look happy. You smiled at him, welcoming him in. You bring him in a small short hug before pulling apart. Your lips lock for a short second before pulling away again.

“Hey. It’s a surprise seeing you here today. Do you need something?”

He gives you a nod “Do you have anything—flowers, that are symbolic of hatred? Maybe stupidity?” You were taken aback by the question.

Not that many people come in asking for flowers with bad meaning towards them—normally they come in asking for flowers that mean love.

You cleared your throat. “I believe I do, follow me”

You take him further down the shop. In the back laid different kinds of flowers, separated by name and by color.

“There’s a couple I know by heart that have both good and bad meanings to them” You start off eyeing every flower carefully as you try and remember the bad. You point up at the orange butterfly weeds, and Damian follows your finger “Those are very beautiful ones but no one gets them because they literally mean ‘be warned’. Which is shameful because they always die out here”

“Is that why you have so many back at home?” Damian asked softly, placing a firm hand behind your back.

You hum “or orange lilies maybe? They mean hatred and other rough emotions. There are also carnations, which mean disappointment. You can also get black roses. Those work too. What do you think?” You look up at your lover waiting for a response as he looks over the flowers.

He pulls out his wallet “How about all that you just named?” You give him a grin. Collecting the flowers and putting them together to make a beautiful bouquet.

You ring him up. “Are these for your wife Mr.Wayne?” You tease playfully.

“Nonsense, my wife deserves better flowers that do not mean hatred” he scuffs as he plays along.

“She’s a lucky girl”

“Yes, she is” he smiles down at you lovingly. He hands you a fifty dollar bill for a bouquet that cost thirty-five and seventeen in change. He refuses the extra amount left over.

“Keep it. Use it to bye more butterfly weeds” you sigh.

When Damian made up his mind he’s too stubborn to change it.

“Who are they for anyway?” You asked. Tilting you head as you put the rest of the money away.

“Tim was being idiotic during patrol and landed himself in the hospital”

“Oh”

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-three — give it time (����)

“I’ll admit, you made it look like a home.”

You looked around, enamored by the mutable blend of the other’s home. There was oddly a cozy charm that bled in the space, a mixture of contrasts that you wouldn’t have thought he would involve himself with.

There were soft shadows playing against the walls, promenaded by the warm and golden glow of the lamps. It was really elegant in here, yet, meticulously chosen to make you feel comfortable enough to sit down on the obviously expensive furniture.

“Didn’t know you had a…knack for interior design either.” You said hesitantly, looking at a very abstract tiny statue of a triangle on one of the shelves. Even thought you were interested, it still just felt like a painted on canvas for you. Kind of like...the idea that there can be paint on a canvas, but it doesn't make it a painting. "Learning a lot more about you everyday."

"It wasn't my idea," He sighed. "I told the interior designer 'not too many colors', and I guess she thought I was talking about completely mute."

"Feels like a sanctuary," you murmured.

Despite the dismissive words he gave you, the effort that was put into everything was clearly crafted and corroborated. You walked over to the books sitting on the coffee table, the only things out of place from the rest of the textures, reading the hard cover and smiling.

"You're really considering it?" You asked, to which Kuni turned towards you, "Taking care of the orchard outside."

He shrugged, his eyes moving back to making tea in the kitchen. "I don't have a choice. It's either me who does it, or it dies."

"That's not true, you can always pay someone to do it for you. I know there's a lot of people who may want it for themselves, it's completely healthy." You rambled, trying to see it through the long windows. "I take it that was a housewarming gift too?"

"From Furina. Came with the house, thought it'd be funny to see me struggle with something mundane."

"I heard," You grinned, not being able to keep your laugh in. "Love that for you, it's like a package deal! Did it work?"

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair at the thought. "I guess, I don't know," He started pour the tea once the pot began to steam. "I know her goal was to drive me insane. A constant reminder that no matter how far I try to distance myself from complications, they find a way to root themselves in my life."

"Hey, I wouldn't see it as that." You chuckled, the sound mixing with the soft clinking of the ceramic cups he was setting on the table. "It's probably just a way to keep you grounded after everything."

"I don't see the appeal in tending to trees."

"Maybe it's not even about that," You mused. "Maybe it's just about finding a healthy medium in your life, don't suppose you had that before, right?" You said, teasingly.

He rolled his eyes at you, a humored smile tugging at his lips. "You're one to preach about silver linings."

Your jaw dropped, a small scoff coming from your mouth. "I actually came here to truce, thank you very much. Even though you're the one who tried to run away from me — news flash, didn't work, genius. Still pissed off about that. I'm glad that Furina is looking to help you as much as she's looking to out you."

"Running away is my thing." He squinted playfully, "Like she's big help anyway. The only reason she's in on it is because she wants us to have this romance trope going on for real this time. It's stupid as fuck."

You paused at his words, feeling yourself swallow a big lump some of the tea nestled in your mouth. You shivered at the heat that washed on you, pursing your lips in thought as you let the conversation simmer. The two of you standing in a companionable silence. The trees outside rustled gently in the breeze, their leaves a vibrant contrast to the muted tones inside.

"I mean, I don't know," You paused, cringing as your fingers tightened on your cup. "I don't think it's stupid."

Kuni stiffened too, gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. There was a certain look that you've never seen before from him. You couldn't decipher his actual feelings. "I figured."

Your cheeks flushed. "Holy shit, never mind if you were expecting it already." You hissed to yourself, trying to ebb how much embarrassment was on your skin. "Look, I need to check into my hotel soon—"

"Sit down." He cut you off, assertiveness in his tone enough to get you to immediately listen, plopping back down. There was an unexpected gravity that was with him, another departure from his nonchalant attitude.

Your heart hammered rapid fire in your chest, a mix of fear and total apprehension were doing a waltz on your general disposition. The more time you were here, the more you worried about the next time you'll make an absolute fucking fool of yourself. You fidgeted with your fingers.

"What really brought you here." He asked, expectantly. "First thing you give me is a hug, and some words of affirmation. You're not here just to catch up, especially after I blew you off."

"I wanted to see you again." You admitted, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. "You owned up to it, left your part of the Internet in a spiral, and then didn't bother to talk to me after that."

He was looking at you, you sensed it. And it wasn't like you could look at him back, otherwise you were going to melt. It was different seeing him from up close, it was an original experience to you if you could name it anything.

His eyes were searching you, despite all you said, as if trying to decipher if you were being genuine. His eyes bored into you like a tiny laser burning your skin. He nodded, a sliver of understanding crossing his face. "You gave me the impression that you were done. I left it at that."

"Yeah, well, I felt like the only one who could leave it at anything was me."

Despite how sticky and tense it was again, you felt relieved that he wasn't as malicious as he was behind the screen. You were relieved that at least the worst of it was over. But it didn't didn't help the burning in your chest, the aching of the bubble in your throat. "Ei really made you do all that stuff? It's not because you really do hate me, right?"

There was no more pretending anymore, no more hiding behind false bravado or dissing each other behind screens like pussies. It was only raw honesty, vulnerable and exposed.

"(Y/N)." His expression softened, a silent dilemma clear on his face. He gathered his own courage, squaring his shoulders a bit and looking at you again. "I'm sorry."

You felt dazed, electricity in the air around you, the world officially tilted on its axis to you. "What?" You accentuated snippier than you intended.

"You were collateral. Nothing that you did deserved what happened to you. Makes sense that you did what you did, you weren't the problem." He explained, shoulders slumped again. "I was behind what I did, at the end of the day; Ei just told me to do it. I'm sorry for being part of the reason you couldn't bounce back. I know if the situation were different, I'd leave you alone."

People kept saying that to you these days, that nothing that happened was because you deserved it. Maybe you never quite got the picture until Kuni said something along the lines of it. You never thought that him apologizing to you would garner the oddest reaction out of you.

Because why was it sexy..? Stop.

"And," He sighed, grabbing your attention lightspeed again. "I would consider liking you more if this all didn't happen. You're alright."

His admission of everything was catching you off guard left and right. You had no idea what to feel with the prominent knot in your stomach. "Do you like me?" "(Y/N), I don't want to—"

"I'm alright, in your words, but do you like me?" Your tone solidified with each word slowly jutting out, assertiveness hardening your composure. "Tell me. Look at me and tell me."

The uncertainly stretched on for what was practically indefinitely. He held his breath, as did you, waiting for his response. Your heart was ruthless against you, beating against your body. He sized you up, seeking an answer for himself.

"...Yeah?" He admitted, voice barely audible as he tried to find his own words. But everything he did think of was so unlike him, out of his personal way of handling things like this. "Yeah. I do."

You blinked, both of your eye contact filling a certain, more romantic space that neither of you even thought was there before today. But the more you realized it, the more you realized that maybe the sexual tension was always there.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @yumejo89

@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[soohiefan13]

MOMOKARUN - roomies

ੈ♡˳ a continuation of my "roomies head cannons" post (if u haven't read it yet, you should totally go read it either before or after you read this bc it's fire if i may say so myself.

notes: 2.8k words. warning(s):

ੈ♡˳

music was thumping in their ears. they weren't at a party or anything. they were just in momo's new bedroom. well, not new new. momo had lived there a good three months already. with her (low-key fine) roomie.

the roomie in question was in his bedroom. no music of his own. he was mostly just involuntarily listening the fast bass line of whatever the hell momo and her friends were listening to. honestly, ken was getting a little irritated. this was his one night out of the week that he had to study and relax. every other day, he was practicing with his club or going to work. he liked living with momo, but times like these made him wish he had taken advantage of the roommate matching resources. he just sighed and grabbed his noise cancelling ear buds. if he had to listen to something, it was gonna be something he wanted to listen to.

"I don't know, girl! he's hot stuff!" muko said loudly while looking in the mirror and pulling her hair into different hairstyles. "y'all haven't ever even flirted a little?"

momo threw a pillow at her girlfriend and rolled her eyes. "dude. if you haven't noticed, he's a total nerd."

muko and miko both deadpanned and turned to momo. "girl. if you haven't noticed, that's literally your type." muko stated. then miko piped up.

"also, I don't know who you think you are! did you just forget that you two freaks are studying the same nerdy occult stuff!"

"well, yea! but he's studying aliens and all that UFO bullshit! i'm studying genuine stuff: spirits and the supernatural!" momo said proudly.

her friends deadpanned again. "right... right..."

"whatever. you two are studying- what is it again? dress up games?" she insulted.

miko whipped around. "bitch! I don't wanna hear that noise whenever you step out wearing something made by us two. and you'll look totally hot in it, too."

momo chuckled, applying a big false eyelash to top off her gyaru makeup look. all three of the girls were practicing their skills. since they were finally allowed to wear makeup out and about everyday. muko wore it anyway, but boy, did she stay in detention.

"honestly, momo. you could use more practice." muko blurted out, a plan flowering into her mind.

"um, rude! you couldn't have said that a little nicer?" momo whined, staring at her makeup in a handheld mirror and working hard to decipher what exactly she was doing wrong.

"i'm just sayin', it might help to practice on a fresh face..." muko said, raising her eyebrows at miko. momo just cocked her head to the side, confused.

miko smiled mischievously. "yea... maybe that cute roomie of yours would be up to letting you practice on his mug."

momo rolled her eyes, touching up her eyeliner. "yea right. okarun would never agree to that. he's kinda uptight."

the girls dropped their jaws. "okarun?! what the shit kinda name is that?"

momo blushed. "well, that's not his real name. it's just a nickname I gave to him since I can't stand to hear to stupid name." the girls stared at her, urging her to continue. momo sighed big and loud. "ugh! his real name is... ken takakura."

they busted out laughing, jumping on to the bed next to her. they shook her around and hit each other, trying to recover from what momo just said.

"girl, are you serious! you're living with a ken takakura and you're not asking him out already?!" muko shouted. momo shoved her hands over her mouth, afraid ken okarun would hear. "give him a chance!" she said, muffled.

"seriously, momo. don't sell yourself short. you're a cute girl and ken seems like a sweetie. start off easy. ask to do his makeup tonight."

"tonight?! but I thought you two were sleeping over..." momo pouted.

the girls grabbed their overnight bags and bedazzled phones, which had cute little charms hanging off of them. "not anymore! you've got a mission to accomplish tonight. see ya!"

and with that, the two girls left. momo was sitting on her bed, wanting so badly to scream and chase them down. but she didn't want to disturb okarun. her phone rang, causing her to jump. it was miko.

"what?!" momo grumbled loudly into her phone.

"if you don't call us back tonight with an update on how everything went down, we're totally coming back tomorrow and talking to ken takakura ourselves."

momo groaned out, slamming her phone shut and then throwing it down on her bed. it couldn't hurt to ask. the worst that could happen was that okarun would say no, then momo could go to bed. but what if he said yes? she would have to sit super close to him and touch his face a ton and stare at his super cute face. ugh! she really didn't want to do this, but at the same time... sitting close to him and touching him and staring at his super cute face didn't sound horrible. who was she kidding? it sounded perfect. momo sighed. she slowly got up and trudged into her bathroom. she spent a good ten minutes removing her makeup, washing her face, and applying some skincare products. she spent the silent time thinking about how to go about this in the least awkward way. asking wasn't super awkward, but actually doing the makeup would be. she couldn't handle his big doe eyes staring at her the whole time.

that's it! she would ask to practice eye makeup on okarun! that way, his eyes would have to be shut the majority of the time.

"alright..." momo sighed, her makeup bag in tote. "let's get this over with."

she stepped quietly through their common area and tiptoed down his hallway. she kinda hoped he was sleeping.

softly, momo knocked a few times on his door. no answer. confused, she pressed her ear against his door, and knocked again. still no answer. his lights were on so he couldn't be sleeping. was he just ignoring her on purpose? without thinking, she just pushed his bedroom door open.

there he was. laying on his bed. shirtless. of course he was shirtless. stupid muko. stupid miko. momo stared at him. he had his arm covering his eyes, a hand resting on his toned abdomen. he also had... ear buds in. seriously? momo groaned and shuffled toward him. she smacked him on the arm.

okarun jumped up. he pulled his ear bud out and sat up straight. putting his glasses back on, he looked up at momo. "hey miss ayase. did you need my help with something?"

she stood in front of him, head turned to the side and refusing to look at him. "um, no. well, yes, actually. would you be willing to let me practice some eye makeup on you? I know it's not super manly or whatever, but miko says i'll get better at it if I practice on a fresh face. it's stupid but you're the only person I could ask. those two bitches conveniently left right after making the suggesting it."

okarun took out the second ear bud and stood up, standing a little close to momo. she stiffened. "yea, sure. if it's important to you, i'd be happy to help."

"cool." momo mumbled. they stood their for a second in awkward silence. "um, could you put a shirt on real quick. i'll be waiting on the couch..."

okarun blushed and chuckled nervously. "yea... uh, sorry. i'll be a out in a jiffy."

miss ayase spun around on her heels after ken shut the door. once he was alone, he pinched the bridge of his nose, embarrassed. jiffy. what does that even mean? and why would he stand so close to this girl shirtless? he could've made her uncomfortable. that was the last thing ken wanted. they got along really well, other than the occasional argument over running shoes or stolen food. they spent a lot of time together, studying or sharing meals. sometimes it felt like the two of them were already couple in ken's mind. they did just about everything couples did, safe for the romantic stuff. of course, ken thought about the romantic stuff, more often than he'd admit. she was pretty and, despite being the most stubborn person on the planet, she was a good person to be around. she was extremely supportive and always made sure ken was taking care of himself. she would make him hearty dinners the day before he had a track meet and would stay up extra late to study with him if he was feeling academically insecure about a certain subject. and she was pretty. ken didn't realize it, but his gaze on her lingered. he adored her messy hair, the way it flicked up and the way her bangs shaped her face when she pulled her hair up. he also liked the way she dressed. very comfy and casual, but she just made it look good. she had a nice body, too. a little curvy, with long legs and a little more muscle than you'd expect. ken felt like she would fit in his hands just right-

god, ken! don't be a pervert!

he shook his head, as if he could fling the flush of pink off his cheeks. ken isn't sure if he can handle sitting so close to miss ayase. he was already getting worked up just thinking about her-

"okarun?" momo called, a little worried he fell asleep.

ken slapped himself on the face and sighed. be normal.

"sorry, I just needed to rinse my face off." he lied.

okarun plopped down next to momo. he turned the TV on and flicked through the channels until he got to their most watched channel- sci-fi. an alien invasion movie played quietly as okarun sat and waited for momo to get her makeup sorted. he watched her hands intently as she thumbed through different eye liners and brushes.

he wanted them to hold his face already.

"you ready?" momo asked.

"yes." okarun answered. he was a little quick with his response.

"alright." momo uncapped a black felt-tip eyeliner pen, giving it a small shake. her eyes flickered up to his, a small feeling of nervousness bubbling up inside of her. "try not to move too much. this would totally suck to get in your eyes."

finally, her non dominant hand cupped okarun's cheek, holding him still and positioning his head properly. she began applying it underneath his eyes. they were quiet as she mapped out a shape. then, she applied a thick line to his upper lash line. she took a moment to regain her composure since his eyes were finally closed for this part. his face was totally soft in her hands and the pout she was squeezing onto his lips was absolutely adorable. momo zoned out, staring at his cute features for about ten seconds. okarun, curious, opened his doe eyes, causing momo to snap out of it.

she snatched her hand away from his face, digging through her makeup bag to avoid eye contact.

"I didn't know you were so into makeup..." okarun said, trying to ease the awkwardness.

"uh... yea. I wanted to wear it throughout highschool, but I didn't want to go through all of the hassle of getting in trouble every other day. that was more muko's speed..." momo said, pulling out a white concealer. "look up for me."

okarun did as told as she applied the white concealer right under his eye. she fanned it with her hands so it would dry faster. he grabbed a mirror, curious to see what she was doing to him.

"this looks cool!" he encouraged. "is working on a 'fresh face' helping you?"

momo smiled at him. "yea... you're a good canvas."

they stared at each other for a moment before momo broke eye contact to grab some eye shadow. "wanna pick out your color?"

"sure. uh... how about blue?"

momo dipped into a pan of pastel blue eye shadow. he closed his eyes, and she dragged the pigment across his lids until she was satisfied. then she added some fake lashes to his top and bottom lashes and topped everything off with a little glitter. she popped the cap back on the glitter eye shadow and plopped a hand held mirror into okarun soft hands.

"what do you think?"

he looked at his reflection. "as far as I know, this looks pretty good. I don't know much about makeup but it looks nice to me. all though, when you replicate this on yourself, you should do pink instead." he paused, contemplating on whether not he should keep talking. "the pink would look good on you... just about anything looks good on you."

momo's eye widened, the eye shadow falling out of her hand and hitting the ground. okarun quickly picked it up for her.

"are you okay?"

"you think i look good?" momo asked.

okarun scratched the back of his neck, his face turning pink. "yea... i've always thought you were pretty, miss ayase."

her heart skipped a beat.

"thanks." she mumbled nervously, trying to think of something to say. "you're pretty, too."

okarun's eye widened this time, then he couldn't help but let out a laugh. momo shoved her face in her hands.

"no! I didn't mean pretty. I just meant, like-"

"any good looks of mine are thanks to you. you did me up nice." okarun smiled at her. momo blushed.

"not all of them." she admitted. "you have cute hair."

she brought her slender hand up to his head and let one of his curls wrap around her finger. okarun leaned into her touch unconsciously. she ran her fingers through his messy hair until she got to the undercut at the nape of his neck.

"i especially like this, here." her nails grazed the short hair, causing okarun to screw his eyes shut and shutter. he could sit and let her play with his hair all night. he kept his eyes closed and leaned more into her touch, his lips falling against her wrist. unconsciously, he wrapped his fingers around her arm, pulling her palm to his lips and planting a soft kiss there.

the two nerds froze. momo snatched her arm away and okarun scooted away from her entirely.

"i'm so sorry, miss ayase! I don't know why I did that." he shoved his face into his palms, muffling his speech. "I'm an awkward guy-"

"that's okay!" momo said a little louder than intended, trying to cut him off before she lost her mind. "here! there are some makeup removing wipes. i'm gonna head to bed. I'll see you in the morning. oh, um. don't forget to rinse after using these. ok. goodnight."

and with that, momo snatched up her makeup bag and scrambled into her bedroom. she tossed her bag to the side and plopped facedown onto her bed. after a moment, she dialed tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. she couldn't have those too screwing up this awkward situation any worse.

meanwhile, ken stood in his bathroom, scrubbing his eyes of the makeup. why did he do that? what was he thinking? momo could've slapped him across the face, or worse; laughed in his face! he probably made her so uncomfortable. why did he have to screw up their perfectly normal living situation.

he made sure to rinse his face off, then crept into bed. he laid on his back, staring at the ceiling as if momo's reciprocated feelings lie hidden in it. okarun liked momo. he wanted to be with her- more than roommates. he wanted them to kiss, and cuddle, and go on dates. he wanted to pay for her meals and surprise her with cool hidden talents. he wanted to see her dressed up, her hair in that ponytail he liked so much. he wanted to sleep next to her; to hold her close to him, easing her restlessness and soaking in her warmth. he wanted to wake up next to her, plant a kiss on her warm cheek and then head into the kitchen and put on her morning coffee.

but did she want any of that with him?

momo tossed her phone to the floor, still processing the events. she stared at her palm, burning a hold into the spot where okarun's lips were only a little while ago. it tingled. she wanted more. momo wanted more of okarun. she wished he would've kissed her on the lips and that they spent the night on the couch together, a stupid sci-fi movie quietly in the background. she wanted play with his hair and see the way he melted into her touch again. she wanted to go on adventures with him, make memories and share experiences with just them. she wanted to make him meals everyday and attend his track meets, so she could be the loudest one in the audience, cheering him on.

but did he want any of that with her?

duh! these two morons. as book smart as they are, you would think they'd be decent at catching a damn clue. maybe they'd figure it out in the morning.

ੈ♡˳

[prettymase]

Meant To Be

NOTES: This fic is completely newly written and I haven’t written in ages but I hope this is good enough. Before you get into it I want you to know that some parts of the fic are quite personal to me and I was contemplating on whether to add or not, but I have included TW warnings. This fic had also been requested by my love @footiehoemcfc I hope you enjoy reading it babe. There will be a part two to this but I wanted to get the first part out first bc I’ve left @footiehoemcfc waiting too long for this 🫶🏼 ✨

WORD COUNT: 4.9k words

TW: mentions of car crash, drunk drivers

You promised yourself that you would never be in this situation.

This is the kind of situation you told your best friends to avoid. It’s basic girl code, telling them not to be stupid in going back to their ex. You know it never ends well. Most of the time anyways.

Most of the time they end up falling for their bullshit and then that causes them hurting even more.

You know right now, you are a dumbass.

Your relationship with Mason ended shortly after Christmas.

It’s bad enough you saw it coming but you didn’t expect it to happen quickly after Christmas as the way he broke up with you, you thought he would want to mend things. Things that haven’t been easy in your relationship the last few weeks. You thought he wanted to apologise for being a dick.

Before the World Cup, you both knew the relationship was falling short. However, you were determined to make it work. No matter how had you tried, you couldn’t afford losing him.

You tried to support him in every way possible. Travelling to Qatar, showing your moral support. You also suggested couples therapy, tried to get him to talk about his feelings he was keeping inside. And everything else that was on the list. Making you feel useless at times.

Mason however, wasn’t having any of it. He liked to feel like he could take care of himself. He knew he was pushing you away and he didn’t want to but this is what it has come to and he can’t stop himself now.

In Qatar, there wasn’t much you could do with him not being able to see everyday with the World Cup consequences. Which you understood. You tried looking at the positives, maybe time apart from you would make him realise how much he misses having you around and helping him out. You thought he would he would take his time to think about how shitty he has been with you the last couple of weeks leading up to the World Cup. To your surprise, it was the complete opposite. Mason came to the conclusion it would be better if the two of you went separate ways.

The night you two broke up, well when he broke up with you, always replayed in your head.

-

“I think we should break up,” Mason started to say, showing no emotion on his face whatsoever.

“What?” you definitely wasn’t expecting this.

He had planned a a nice romantic evening or so you thought. The dinner table was elegantly decorated, with rose petals and candles around the table, with two glasses of wine, which you dismissed because you didn’t feel like drinking.

You thought the best of things, thinking that he’d apologise for his behaviour these last couple of weeks. Instead he did all this to break up with you.

“I want you to know don’t think I don’t love you because I do, it’s just the things that’s happening this season, I can’t love you the same when I’m feeling like shit.”

“You’re having one bad season and you’re throwing me out of your life?!” You asked confusedly and annoyed. “You’ve had problems before but this was never the solution!”

“Y/N you don’t understand. This is my life, I have to try and help and the tea-”

“This is not your life!!” You snapped. “It’s what you do for a living, big difference Mason.”

‘It is now okay?! Everything else seems like a distraction!”

“I’m a distraction? Your girlfriend who has been trying to help you for weeks is a fucking distraction? Are you fucking kidding me?” That hurt. It hurt how little to no appreciation he showed for your effort. The tears that you tried to hold in just fell. Maybe it could’ve been from sadness but now you were just mad.

Mad at him.

“Baby,” he sighed trying to ease the tension. Both of you had arguements before but it was never like this. He’s now thinking of throwing the years you had together, which you thought of convincing him to not to do this but it was useless and once he makes his mind up there’s no going back.

“You have no right to call me that anymore. You’ve clearly made up your mind.” You snapped.

“I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t word that right. But you need to understand me.”

“Understand what? That your job is more important than me and everything else in your life? That all the things I’ve done for you in the past meant nothing? Our relationship was for nothing? And that I mean nothing to you?!” You managed to say In between your sobs that you have been keeping in for too long, and this was your thirteenth reason.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Mason stepped closer to you and tried to hug you which you refused at first, but you always found yourself giving in, in the end. This could be your last hug ever so you wanted to treasure it. Wanted to get close to him. Wanted to smell his aftershave that was lingering on his clothes. Wanted him to run his hands up and down your back for comfort.

All for the last time.

You could feel his tears dropping on your shoulder. This couldn’t have been easy for him too. Although you know he’s doing wrong but you also know the past year hasn’t been the best for him and no matter how much this is hurting you, you also know he’s hurting too. “I’m so sorry, my love. I know you think this is easy to do but i promise you it’s not. I love you so much and if it’s meant to be I’m sure we’ll find our ways back to each other soon.” He pulled away from the hug and held the sides of your face, planting a kiss on your forehead. His lips lingering on your forehead a lot longer than anticipated which relaxed your mind for a second.

“I’m going to go gather my things and go.” You sniffled.

Mason just nodded in response and let you get to it. You go into your shared bedroom, where you gathered most of your things, one thing that made you break down instantly was your scrapbook you made for his 21st birthday. It was his first birthday you celebrated with him and it was special too, so you wanted to make it memorable. You flicked through the book where you come across the first page which was the first picture you took together, him positioned behind you, his head buried in your neck while you looked so happy. The happiest you’ve been in a long while, you forgot what that felt like.

This book was meant to be what you show your future children, but you didn’t get that far ahead. You hesitated in whether to take it or leave it with him. However you decided to take it with you as you felt like he wouldn’t look back at it.

Once you finally got your things together, you looked back at your shared room which was now Mason’s for one last time. The good times you had in there would be looked back at for sure, at least for you anyways.

Mason who was waiting for you to be done was on the sofa, his head in between in his hands. When he saw you were coming out of the room he offered to help with your luggage but you refused.

“You can stay here for a little while once you get sorted out if you want?” Mason mumbled.

“I think it’s too late for that Mase. Thank you though.” You said as you walked to the front door and remembered that his front door key was in your bag which you handed to him. There was a keyring with the photo of the two of you on there. You walked towards the door until you heard Mason speak again.

“Y/n wait a second,” you looked back at him, hoping he would say this is a mistake and he wants to start fresh with you but was that the case? Nope. “Where are you going to go? It’s late. I don’t want you wondering about at this time of night.” He asked genuinely worried for you.

But you couldn’t help but answer coldly as this wasn’t his problem anymore. You weren’t his problem anymore. “You have no right to worry about that anymore. You start your life from scratch and forget what I ever meant to you. If I ever did mean anything to you. Good luck with the future, Mase.” You choked out.

Quickly, you got out of the door but you weren’t sure how much more you could hold your tears in for. Opening the boot to put all of your things in the back before you got into the drivers seat and drove away from his house for the last time.

There was tears streaming down your face the entire journey, luckily you still had your own flat that you didn’t end up getting rid of, but it’s been a while since you been in there so it will be weird at first but you’ll have to get used to it. After all this was your life from now on.

During your journey to your now new (old) home, you looked back on all the positives that your relationship had. For example; when he took you away just because he felt like it that was also when he said ‘I love you’ for the first time and you were wondering what you did to deserve this man. Now you were wondering what you did to deserve the situation he put you in.

‘Where in the relationship did we go wrong?’ You thought. You always thought you made him happy. But clearly not if he felt like he needed to chuck you out of his life like that. You clearly weren’t as important to him as you thought you were.

When you got to your old flat, as soon as you walked through the door, it’s like you were almost looking for a feeling of home come to you. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it was Mason who made it feel like home. And now you had to live without him.

You had started talking to Mason in the most weird ways ever, you were going through so much at the time so him coming into your life during the most hardest times of your life you would describe it as was truly a blessing in disguise.

Let’s recap to that day..

-

It was one of those days.

One where you felt like God was never on your side, trying to understand what you did to deserve the last few days of chaos you’ve had.

Eyes closed. Trying to remain calm, steadying your mind and the pace of your breathing.

It had been a long day. You had just come back from the hospital 45 mins ago. No that wasn't your job, your mum had been admitted to hospital after having a traumatic car crash as you'd call it.

On Saturday night she was on the way back from dinner with her friends, until a drunk driver crashed into her and she remained unconscious up until Tuesday morning for a few minutes and remained unconscious again.

When you first got a call from the hospital your first instant reaction was shock and denial because as far as you'd known your mum was all about being a safe driver and she was always scolding you to drive safe. It hadn't settled in until you had seen her. All your emotions started crashing down at once.

You felt a bit helpless and guilty by not being able to do anything to help her, and you were losing hope slowly but deep inside you, you knew your mum will power through this, she's a strong woman after all. After having to raise 6 children when your father left you at a young age deciding that he wanted nothing to do with you, if she could go through that alone, you had hope that she'd get through this.

You couldn't help but feel alone. All your siblings were in their own little bubble and you didn't want to disturb them and you know that they wouldn't care because all of you were all so close but you couldn't help feel like you were burdening them.

All of you were equally upset, each one of them had their own distraction to help not think about this, but you had taken days off to visit your mum during hospital hours and just pour you heart out even though she hadn't had her eyes open you knew she could hear you.

Days prior to this, you had been struggling with your emotions already.

You had given your notice in for work because the environment was becoming so toxic and this guy at work would non stop harassing you until you couldn't take it anymore, mentally it was taking a toll on your mental health. Your ex had gotten back into contact with you repeatedly changing numbers, making different social media accounts to contact you, after numerously blocking him.

Overall you felt like crap, you didn't want to tell your friends about this because you felt like you were asking for sympathy when you didn't want that and you felt like they were all happy within their lives and you didn't want to burst that with your sad feelings.

So you just put a fake smile on your face which was believable to people, and when you were alone tears wouldn't stop flowing.

You hated yourself for not being strong enough.

The peace and quietness lasted about 2 minutes before a message came through your phone. You instantly thought it was someone from the hospital updating you about your mum but this message had confused you even further

Anna?

You most definitely weren't Anna and you most certainly didn't have a date today.

(Imagine you can see the face. Thank you😌)

It was like an addiction messaging each other, you just couldn’t stop. It was flirty banter most of time, he arranged for you to first meet him at a small cafè because he was eager to see you, and this meeting made you feel something for him, even more than you did.

The next meeting you decided to count it as a date, and ever since then you didn’t look back.

He was seriously a blessing in disguise. Your mum was getting better, you got a new job and you couldn’t be more happier that everything finally was starting to fall into place.

-

Over the months since your breakup you tried to forgive and forget; Forgive because he genuinely did have a lot going on and you also knew his passion for football and maybe you just need to find your way back to each other once the time is right. Forgetting about him and what he meant to you was the hardest thing to do.

It’s been five months now since your breakup and not a day goes by without thinking about him. You just had to remind yourself that he’s probably not thinking about you anymore and he’s probably moved on and as much you wanted him to tell you that he wanted you back probably wasn’t the case. Which hurt you deeply thinking about it but if that’s what helps you to move on then so be it.

The first month was incredibly difficult for you, wanting to text him every hour of the day to try and work things out, even though he ended it you wanted him to fight for you, you once thought you meant the whole world to him, and now acted like you were strangers.

His friends had found out about the break up and checked in on you to see how you were doing. They didn’t see it coming, especially Ben, he thought he was head over heels for you and he was always going on about how perfect his relationship is. Ben insisted on talking some sense into him but you refused, not wanting to force his way back to you, you’d much rather him come back to you when he was ready.

Whenever that was.

At this point you were starting to think that it would only happen in your dreams.

You felt a like crap and thought you were being over dramatic, thinking that Mason’s probably isn’t doing the same and moping over this, so over the next two months you tried pushing him out of your mind and start focusing on your mental health and yourself, getting your self love back.

Saffie, Libby and Imogen, who had been your support system since helped you through it and you couldn’t be more grateful. They also were shocked about the break up but as of right now you didn’t care. You had come to terms with that it wasn’t meant to be and you tried convincing yourself that you were fine with it.

When you moved in with Mason, it was difficult to see them, as they lived out of town and at the time things were just getting hectic that you didn’t have the time, even though you hadn’t seen each other for a while you had still kept each other updated on every little detail.

Tonight, you were going on a night out with your girls. It had been a while since you had a girls night and you couldn’t wait because you had missed your girls.

“Cheers!! I want to make a toast to Y/N. I want you to know that you’re the most strongest person I know and you don’t need no mannn that makes you feel like shit!!” Libby screamed through the loud music that was playing at the club, and you all took a sip of your cocktails. You promised to yourself and the girls that wouldn’t cry tonight and so far you were failing but you decided to blink the tears away and have the time of your life with your besties. It’s the least you deserved.

-

You don’t know how you got here but you’re not complaining.

You barely make it inside the house. As soon as you both are nside, you’re kissing, making out against the front door. Pushing him back, desperately wanting more, trying to suck every last drop out of the love that is still left.

You’ve missed him. Missed him so much.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Mason pants, pulling away, framing your face with his hands, and you nod.

“No, but it feels good, doesn’t it?” You say with a grin, that’s all your willpower gone out of the window.

Mason grins at you. Just like he used to; it’s just like it used to be.

“Fuck yes. Let’s go upstairs.”

You knows this will only hurt you in the morning but you can’t resist, you’ve missed him, missed how he feels, how he tastes. And all that matters right now is that your legs are wrapped around Mason’s waist and the way he groans when you push yourself into him.

Fuck, it feels good.

It’s not a long, drawn out fuck, no changing positions, no words. It’s not hasty either, but it’s desperate, both of them fighting for the perfect angle, chasing their release, needing it.

Still, it’s loving. The way Mason’s hand is in the exact right spot on your back, the way they kiss, breathlessly moaning into each others mouths. And the way they lock eyes, reading each other’s faces.

They’ve done this many times - spent so many nights entangled, making each other moan and pleasuring themselves. They know this, every part of it is familiar.

It happens too quickly, but you wouldn’t have the strength to prolong it anyways. It’s too much, there is not a single clear thought in your head as you kiss Mason through his climax.

“It will hurt more tomorrow,” Mason whispers when you pull him closer under the blanket. You know he’s not just talking about you aching. His tone is soft, laced with a shadow of a sorry, his hand gently stroking your arm, the gesture putting you to sleep.

-

When you woke up it was around four AM you weren’t surprised to find yourself sleeping next to someone but you couldn’t pinpoint on who it was as you were too drunk and didn’t remember a single thing about your one night stand as you rarely have them, silently cursing yourself for drinking too much.

This room seemed familiar to you though, you don’t know if your mind was playing tricks on you or if it was actually familiar to you. That was until the person next to you turned to face you, still asleep and you were met with none other than Mason.

You shot up at the exact second, accidentally waking up Mason doing so. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Let’s get back to sleep yeah?” Mason says in a sleepy voice but you were still in a state of shock of how this happened, you were about to reply until you turned around to face him to see him asleep again.

How did you let this happen.

You went downstairs to compose yourself with a glass of water and watched your reflection on his window.

‘You stupid idiot. Why did you do this to yourself?’ You thought. The more you thought about everything that had happened last night, how much you missed him touching you, kissing you, tears were forming because it just wasn’t fair that he was making you feel like this.

In the middle of your thoughts, Mason entered the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around your waist, buried his face in your neck, kissing it repeatedly. “Baby, why are you here? It’s 4am,” he whispered in your ear. You were just staring blankly outside at his patio, tears threatening to fall. Your lip started wobbling.

How could you be so dumb? He starts seducing you whilst drunk and it worked so easily he had you right where he wanted. You were never that girl to have one night stands, but this one felt like one because you knew what Mason’s decision was.

“Listen, you were drunk. We both had a little too much to drink. I saw you in the club alone, I don’t know where your friends were and you looked like you had a little too much to drink. I offered to take you home but you mentioned you left your keys with Imogen because you know how clumsy you can be and lose them. So I took you back to mine and I don’t know how it happened but there was sexual tension in the air and we both started kissing and one thing led to another, but I want you to know it doesn’t mean anything to me.” Mason said so confidently.

You needed a moment to hear the last sentence alone, but you wanted him to think that were coping well without him because he had moved on and somehow you needed to do the same, but after last night it’s become hard again. It’s like having sex with him has brought your feelings back again but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t feel the same about you anymore, even though when you broke up he told you that he’ll always love you. You guessed that was lie.

You wanted it to mean something to him, you wanted him to ask for you back. You wanted him to fight for you.

Which will only happen in your dreams by the looks of it.

You wondered if he ever loved you? Now you just believed what your negative thoughts were telling you.

“I’m going to get my stuff and leave,” you said with a lump in your throat and glossy eyes.

Mason saw the expression on your face and was the sick of the sad expression you had on your face and he snapped, “Okay. Don’t expect me to stop you then. I have moved on.”

It’s like this was a different man in front of you, you don’t remember getting to know this guy, you don’t remember falling in love with him. The Mason you remember falling in love with wouldn’t let you go without a fight. You weren’t going to let him treat you like this so you snapped back. “Yeah because you sleeping with me last night really tells me that you’ve moved on doesn’t it?” You rolled your eyes.

“It was a mistake! I told you, I was drunk, you were drunk, one thing led to another and it’s a regret of mine now letting you think that you’ll ever get close to me again. Maybe, just maybe if you weren’t so needy all the damn time we could’ve given this a second chance.” Mason frustratedly said, with what he said, sounded like you hurt him, when he was the one to break up with you. It just didn’t make any sense to you.

You wished he hadn’t pushed you away. You pushed past Mason to get your things, not wanting to stay here a minute longer.

Mason stayed quiet, knowing what he said was wrong but in the heat of the moment it just came out. Once you came out of his room and got your things ready, you walked out his front door whilst he watched you leave.

-

It had been two nights since that night you encounter with Mason, you started thinking outside of box and tried moving on as he had, it was lot harder than you thought it would be. Maybe because the Mason you saw two nights ago was a completely different person in front of you.

Maybe if you went on a few dates it would help? You thought.

You never did see yourself separating from Mason, but that’s how things currently were and you had to accept that. You decided to scroll on Twitter for bit and what first came up on suggested posts surprised you a little because you weren’t expecting that when you opened the app.

To say you were more than hurt to see how he’s moved on quickly, but also you were convinced that the paparazzi make things worse from what they were. You experienced it when you were with Mason, so part of you were hoping that this girl pictured with him was just a friend but looking at the picture it was telling you something else.

You know it has been more than a few months that you’ve broken up now but a part of you wasn’t ready to let go. But you always promised yourself that if you saw Mason happy with another person you would be happy for him no matter how much it hurt you inside and you weren’t going to ruin his happiness.

That’s if this article was true.

Now you needed to move on because it seemed like Mason wasn’t going to come back to you by the looks of things and you need to accept that.

-

Mason didn’t know how to feel when the paparazzi photos came out, first of all the pictures were completely misleading to what they actually were.

He wasn’t on a date.

The only thing he was doing was playing Cupid, and setting this girl up with his mate, Ben. When Mason spotted Y/N on a night out with her friends, he was with Ben and a few of his other friends. This girl caught Ben’s attention but he was too much of a scaredy cat to go up to her. He thought he missed his chance.

That was until, the girl, Chloe, reached out to Mason on DMs and asked if they could meet to talk things through. He knew Ben wouldn’t dare to ask her outright, so they planned to call it a ‘blind date’ because Chloe actually had her eyes on Ben and it turns out that when she was about to go up to him that night he had disappeared, she couldn’t find him but she also knew Mason was good friends with Ben so she’s shooting her shot the long way.

Mason still deeply loved Y/N, he only said he moved on because he wanted Y/N think he’s doing okay without her. He really doesn’t know why he started pushing her away, and he regrets it because all he wanted know is Y/N between his arms. He would do everything for their relationship to be normal again, but instead he had to fuck it up.

Mason won’t be stupid enough to lose you again at any given chance. He was already stupid enough to know what life was like without you and he’s not risking that again.

He knew he needed to fix this.

—

taglist: @chilwellspulisic

[inkedinfusions]

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 | eren jaeger halloween special

⊱♱⊰ | A small Halloween party and smudged makeup may seem like what happens every other year, but this one is about to take a turn, one both expected and surprising.

⊱♱⊰ | masterlist of works

𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 '𝟐𝟒

word count: 2.3k

content warnings: fake blood, mentions of alcohol

a/n: I started this today lmao. Anyways, I hope ya'll have a happy halloween if you celebrate it, and if not, I hope the candy that this festivity brings you is sweet and plentiful. Also thanks to my beta reader for reading and revising on such short notice (read: I deadass just texted them the link to my docs and they read it over immediately) Truly the goat <3

Thanks for reading!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 smudges in the corner of your eye for the umpteenth time that late afternoon.

Historia huffs, reaching for the makeup remover and cotton pads to wipe it off, being extra careful to not erase any of the purple shadow that adorns your eyelids.

“Would it kill you to stop squirming?” she asks when you blink and smudge it again.

You groan, almost hiding your face in your hands before realizing that would only mess up your makeup further. It had taken a grand total of three baby wipes, five brushes and a shit ton of q-tips to make the eyeshadow and glitter look good, and you aren’t about to mess up the other half of Historia’s hard work.

“I’m sorry!” you say. “I can’t help it if my eye twitches— and It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose.”

Mikasa snorts from where she lays on her bed, doom scrolling while she waits for you to get ready. The witch hat she’ll be using is sitting on her nightstand, next to some discarded accessories and a pallet of red face paint, responsible for the tracks of painted blood on your face.

Historia sighs, screwing the lid back on the liquid eyeliner bottle. 

“I’m just going to use a pencil,” she says. “It’ll be easier to wipe off and correct later.”

“I told you to do that from the start,” Mikasa chimes in.

You stay still when Historia brings the liner close to your eye, flicking it outwards. The pencil will be easier to smudge, but quicker to clean up, even if it means you’ll spend a great deal of the party in front of a mirror. Or you’ll just give up halfway through and hope that the pseudo smokey eye is excused by your costume.

“Why can’t you do it?” you ask Mikasa when Historia is done, helping her arrange the makeup supplies so that they are less of a pain to clean the next morning.

“I mean,” you continue, “you basically wear this everyday, no?”

Mikasa shrugs, standing up to help tidy up. “I can’t do it to other people though. Only myself.”

Her lips twitch in a mischievous smile before continuing. “Eren is the one who knows how to do that,” she says, grinning slightly like it’s some kind of inside joke. “Maybe you should ask him for help?”

Historia chuckles and you feel your face heat up. “Shut up,” you protest.

“I’m just saying-“

“Shut up.”

“Shutting up.”

Historia’s makeup box closes with a click, and Mikasa's vanity is more or less cleared up. You and your friends had chosen to arrive early to get ready in her room, while the boys are busy raiding nearby convenience stores for snacks and booze.

Halloween is never boring with your friends. Either because of some stupid stunt Connie and Sasha pulled, or dumb gossip you would share late into dusk, your get-togethers are always thoroughly entertaining.

And speaking of the devil.

“Hey guys,” Sasha says through mouthfuls of chips, entering the room. “Done with the costumes?”

A small chorus of Yeahs echoes in the room

“Mikasa is wearing the same emo outfit she always wears so—“ you mutter, ducking and laughing when Mikasa launches a pillow in your direction, ignoring the ‘It’s goth!’ she throws your way.

You take cover behind Annie, who arrives just after Sasha, almost crashing into Historia when she starts to fiddle with the tiny gemstones on her face in the mirror. 

“I think this one’s crooked,” she mumbles, slightly poking at them with her pinky finger.

“Babe,” Ymir says from where you thought she was passed out on a bean bag. “It looks fine. Leave it.” 

“You think so?”

“You could be wearing a trash bag and still be the most beautiful girl in the room.”

“Ugh, gay people,” you say teasingly, knowing as well as them that their relationship is actually goals, and no, you weren’t jealous at all of their mutual sappiness. 

“Ugh,” Ymir replies. “Straight people.”

“But I’m not-“

“You like Eren,” she cuts you off. “That’s enough.”

That serves to silence you for the time being, wisely choosing to instead stuff your mouth with the bowl of chips Sasha stole from downstairs.

“And speaking of the devil,” Mikasa says when a car is heard outside.

 “Oh! You think they bought sour gummies?” Sasha asks with stars in her eyes, already rushing downstairs.

“Knowing them they probably bought half the store,” Ymir mutters, reaching for Historia’s hand to follow Sasha.

You make your way downstairs, walking among fake cow webs and hanging ghosts, guided by the lively chatter of your friends. 

Sasha and Connie are already on the couch munching on snacks, chattering excitedly next to Jean, who is browsing scary movies on the Tv, looking for something to have in the background.

Reiner and Bertholdt are busy setting up the drinks, arranging the kitchen table with a wide variety of sodas, booze, and colorful red syrup. You even spy some edible fang gummies, the only snack not already poached by the others.

“Hey,” Eren greets you when he sees you approaching, although it’s partially muffled by the vampire fangs in his mouth.

“Hi,” you smile, matching bloody grins on both your faces. “Those fangs working for you?”

“They are a pain,” he groans. “I swear some of this blood is real, with how many times I’ve cut my own gums.”

“Maybe you should stick to those gummies,” you point to the kitchen table, opening up the bottom cupboard to take out the punch bowl.

Eren, who has already given up on keeping his plastic fangs on, follows you as you move through the kitchen, taking over the punch preparing process from Reiner and Bertholdt, shooing them to the living room.

“Maybe I will.”

He rips the plastic bag open while you pour a sizable amount of cherry juice into the punch bowl, followed by pared orange peels, cinnamon sticks, cloves, ginger and chili. You take the bag from his hands and take some fang gummies to sprinkle into the bowl, mixing the ingredients thoroughly.

“Could you pass me the—“ Eren passes you the vodka wordlessly. “Oh thanks.”

“Course.” 

You prop it up next to the punch for anyone looking for a drink with a kick to it. You had learned from previous hangouts that alcohol in communal punch was not something to mess with, some people’s unreal tolerance (Eren’s and Annie’s) spiking up the median endurance. 

Let’s just say that you don’t remember much from New Years Eve two years ago.

You don’t notice how his eyes linger on you for a moment, how the tips of his ears go red when your fingers graze. And if you do— well— you’ve both played the oblivious game for far too long to do anything about it.

“Hey,” Eren starts, prompting you to look at him. “So I was wondering—“

A loud screech and your friend’s subsequent complaints makes you both jump in place, and a loud robotic voice informs you that the karaoke speaker Historia had brought has been turned on. Loud music follows the voice before the volume shoots down, and the first few notes of a popular song start to play.

You turn to Eren after a beat. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He grins, handing you a red cup he had previously poured. You’ll know he’ll tell you if you push, but like many past occasions you simply return his grin, accept the drink, and walk towards where your friends are gathered.

Your throat feels raspy after the eight consecutive songs you’ve sang, some with Sasha and Connie, one with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, and others where you didn’t have a mic, but were simply belting out the lyrics with everyone else.

Scream plays quietly in the background after an unexpected scream (funny) had scared you and Sasha, prompting you both to bump into each other and make a mess of popcorn on the floor.

Said girl still ate them, so you can’t really say they went to waste. Under five seconds too, so, in her words, the five second rule still applied.

Reiner had somehow been coerced by Jean and Marco into singing a Disney song, and you were sure that the whole block could hear their screeches. You were a giggling mess by the time they sang the last note, tears coming out of your eyes at their impression of what was before a heartfelt anthem.

It is only when you wipe off your tears that you realize your fingers are stained black. Shit, you think, the eyeliner.

You groan, not really wanting to go fix it, but knowing that you probably look like a panda and not at all like the smokey black eye you had envisioned.

“Hey, Mikasa?”

“Yeah?” She turns towards you.

“Can I borrow your liquid liner? I’m going to try and do it myself.”

“Are you sure you won’t poke your eyes out?” Mikasa asks, raising her eyebrows. While you didn’t appreciate her lack of faith in you, it was well founded. You weren’t clumsy by any means, but your hands had the tendency to shake when you needed to do precise work.

You open your mouth to reassure her when a voice coming from your left pipes up.

“I can help,” Eren offers.

“You sure? I wouldn’t want to interrupt your fun or something.”

“It’s fine. Besides, Jean’s voice is kinda making my ears ring now.”

A beat passes, interrupted by Mikasa clearing her throat. “If that’s all then, better hurry. The pizza is getting here soon, and I can’t guarantee you’ll get a piece if you’re not downstairs the moment the doorbell rings.”

“It won’t take long,” you say.

“Sure,” she says, unconvinced.

You and Eren both decide to ignore the implications of her statement, walking upstairs. You start to walk towards Mikasa's bedroom, meaning to retrieve her eyeliner.

“Where are you going?” Eren asks.

“For the liner?”

“I have a different one that it’s easier to put on. Come on, it’s in my room.” He nods towards the door to his bedroom, and you fall into step next to him as you stroll down the hall.

“I forgot you had an emo phase.”

“It wasn’t— whatever.”

You snort at his lack of retort. His so-called ‘emo phase’ wasn’t actually emo, but you liked to tease him about it every once in a while.

You make a quick detour to wipe off the black smudges that were left over, messing up your eyeshadow but not really caring enough to fix it properly. It would do for the night. Besides, unlike with the eyeliner, you could simply blend it in with your fingers.

Eren flicks the lights on and you flop onto his bed while he searches for the forgotten liner, a remnant of his dark and embarrassing past. Well, embarrassing for him at least. You, on the other hand, found it incredibly attractive whenever he put it on. Not that you ever told him.

“Here.” He takes a black bottle after rummaging through his drawers for a while.

Eren takes a seat next to you, and you move onto a similar sitting position, facing him. 

While you couldn’t stop moving around when Historia was helping you out, you are now completely frozen in place, transfixed in his aquamarine eyes.

You feel every breath he takes, every exhale he lets out. Small translucent freckles that remain from summer decorate his cheeks, where startling red is also painted.

His touch is feathery soft, the fingers on your chin doing almost no work to keep your head in place. Still, he doesn’t remove them. 

Eren gently tilts your face as he goes, filling in the gaps in the wing, in your upper lash line, in the inner corner of your eye. 

You realize his mouth is moving after a while, bringing you out of your stupor. 

“I— sorry, what?”

You mourn the loss of his fingers on your chin when he pulls back to screw the lid of the liner back on. Eren chuckles, and it’s not the first time the sound brings butterflies to your stomach.

“I asked if it’s okay like that.”

“Yeah,” you say, still a little out of it. “It’s fine.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t even looked at a mirror—“

“What were you going to say to me in the kitchen?” You interrupt.

His mouth slams shut, and for a second all you can hear is both of your heartbeats drumming in your chests, blood rushing through your veins, warmth beginning to spread throughout. There’s even the bad singing of your friends in the background to top it off.

“It was nothing,” he says.

“No it wasn’t. What were you going to ask?”

You watch as Eren internally debates with himself, weighting the pros and cons interfering with your pull and push game would bring. The pros win, it seems, because he replies, softer than you've ever heard.

He gets closer to you, fingers once again finding their home on your chin. His eyes look for resistance but find none; your pulse looks for his own and finds a rhythm.

“Can I—?”

You don’t let him finish, and it’s really something you have to work on, the way both of you never wrap up your questions. But oh, you don’t find it in yourself to regret it.

He tastes like candy, sweet and sour, the lingering flavor of alcohol adding a small kick to the kiss. Your hands find his way to his costume’s collar, his own to the back of your neck.

It’s soft, gentle, warmed in the slow burn of a confession years in the making. Maybe you did have one regret— the fact that it took this long for you to get here.

You part just as quickly as you came together, the subtle after taste of his Halloween treats lingering in your breath. You smile, and he smiles, and you both start giggling like little kids after a sugar high, intoxicated in the other's presence.

“Hey,” he says, thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth. “Now your lipstick is smudged. Want me to help you with it?”

[tojisangrylittlething]

12:15 AM - Megumi Fushiguro

summary: two teens who are in stupid love with each other.

wc: 1.2k words

you were laying in your dorm, just staring at the ceiling. glancing toward the clock on your nightstand, the time read 12:15 AM. sighing, you turned your gaze back to the ceiling. resuming your count of every divet and memorizing each cobweb. the only noise you could hear was your fan that was oscillating in the room. closing your eyes, you tried to fall asleep once more.

a few minutes go by and all of a sudden, you hear your phone buzzing. leaning over to grab it off your nightstand, you squint at the bright light, trying to read the caller ID.

megumi is calling...

answer or decline

you debated on letting it ring, telling yourself that sleep is more important. you do have that quiz tomorrow that you studied your evening away for.

you continued to look at your phone, trying to make a decision. tapping the green button, you raise the phone up to your ear, answering with a groggy hello.

"did i wake you?" his voice rang deep as it came through the receiver.

you rolled onto your back, "no, you didn't. i couldn't sleep anyways."

you hear shuffling at the other end. "neither could i."

there was a pause.

"i miss you."

you giggled. "megumi, you just saw me at dinner." he huffs out air "and? am i not allowed to miss my girlfriend?"

you smiled at the way he said it. the term still sounding so different coming from his mouth. so matter-o-fact. you two haven't been dating long, only a few months. the pining started way before that though. you both agreed to take it at your own pace, deciding to tell the others at a later date. until you were both ready to share the other with the world, as a couple. it's been so tranquil, just you and him basking in each other's energy. nobody putting their nose in your business. slowly knowing every detail about the other, becoming one.

"you are, i just wasn't expecting you to be this dramatic about it. maybe gojo rubbed off on you more than you thought" you teased him.

he could hear that smirk in your voice. hell, he can picture it in his mind right now. that smirk that seems to pull him in. a simple tilt of your head and he's captivated by whatever you will say or do next. how you hold yourself, the way you treat others, the way you treat him. he doesn't know what he did to ever deserve a shining light like you.

"don't ever insult me like that again."

you laughed at the sarcasm dripping from his voice. "i miss you too, honey."

he smiled big at that. you turn his heart into a roaring fire. filling his chest with an indescribable warmth. you are the only one able to turn his blank expression into a readable one. you make him feel things that he didn't think he would ever feel.

being a sorcerer, not every day is guaranteed. when you both discovered the crush you harbored for each other, it was different. how do you even approach that? you thought nobody would want to be with someone whose life seemed so...temporary. megumi was always certain he would die young simply because that's part of the job description. death was always an inevitable possibility. he believed that he would never experience true love or happiness or whatever it is they talk about in the media. yet here you were, in the flesh right before him. your smile so bright it was blinding, and the way your eyes looked at him with complete adoration? for the first time in megumi's life, he decided to be selfish with his own wants. he chose the security that you provided him. when he got one small taste of you, he wasn't letting you go.

"can i come over?"

this had become a habit. megumi coming to your dorm in the late hours of the night, only to sneak back at dawn. you worried what would happen if he was caught, but every time you said yes to him. you were addicted to his presence. he was so gentle with you and you felt safe with him. forgetting the everyday horrors of being a sorcerer just long enough while you lay in his arms. when it's you and him, the outside world ceases to exist.

"of course. it's unlocked for you."

"i'll see you soon." and with that, he hung up.

you smiled to yourself and put your phone back on the nightstand. just waiting on your lovely boyfriend to make his entrance.

it was just minutes later that you heard your door softly creak open, then shut with the click of the lock. you turn to see the dark silhouette of your boyfriend at the end of your bed. lifting your blankets back, you softly say come on. the bed dips with the weight of megumi climbing into it.

immediately your arms go for each other. needing skin to skin contact. your bodies entwine, with the type of physical touch only the other could provide.

one of megumi's hands was rubbing up and down your back while the other went for the back of your head. your arms were wrapped around his neck, playing with the wispy ends of his hair.

megumi lays feather-light kisses along the conjunction of your neck and shoulder. you let out a sigh, enjoying the feeling.

the more you become entranced by the rhythmic movement on your back, the more your mind wanders off. how long do we have? how much longer of this bliss until the cursed and the dead come knocking for us? you know deep in your soul that you would protect megumi no matter the cost. he had to be the one to make it. not you. the possibility of having to live this life without him...just that thought feels like a part of you died.

"losing you is not an option for me."

megumi pulls away from your neck, movements stilling completely. he is looking directly into your eyes, but with how dark the room is, you can't quite read the expression on his face.

"i can bear losing anyone else, but not you. it can, and will, never be you."

the hand that was on your back moves up to cup the side of your face, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. megumi leans in and presses a small kiss to the tip of your nose.

"i'm not going anywhere. you are the reason i am still alive. every breath i take, i take for you. do you have any idea what i would do for you?'' megumi presses his forehead against yours. "for you, i'd steal the stars. you want the moon? i'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down for you. i never thought i'd fall so hard for you."

all you could see in this moment was megumi. the soft smile he wore and those gentle eyes that you could float around in. you could feel your eyes begin to sting with fresh tears. your chest felt tight, all the butterflies fluttering their way to the top. you snapped out of your haze and smiled at him. a big, beaming smile full of love.

such a foreign feeling, love. in a world where the odds were always stacked, something was looking out for the two teenagers hopelessly in love.

[jinxsleftmiddlefinger]

timebomb highschool au

(part 2)

(pt1) (pt3) (read on ao3)

description: timebomb highschool au pretty much sums it up lol. there’s also canon storylines (vander death, vi conflict etc.) but translated into a modern context

warnings: none

As it turns out, Ekko and the blue haired girl really did have math together. When he first met her in the office, Ekko hadn’t known what to think. Obviously, when he first walked in, he thought she was hot. She was wearing a cute black crop top, her stomach was toned like she worked out everyday, her hair was in a pretty braid, and her face matched in perfect harmony.

As for her personality, she was certainly…eccentric. Ekko wasn’t exactly opposed to it, but he has always been described as a more ‘chill’ and ‘laid back’ guy, so their vibes were on two different sides of the chart.

Like she said she would, Jinx led him to class and sat him down at the desk right beside hers, smiling brightly. Everyone around them seemed to be looking back at Ekko, wondering Who is he? and the looking at Jinx like Who’d you bring back?

“New kid.” He saw Jinx mouth at a girl with red hair. He shifted his gaze to see her waggle her eyebrows and mouth. “He’s kinda…” The red headed girl waved her hand towards her face, fanning herself like she was overheated.

Ekko looked down, blushing. He didn’t look over to see Jinx’s response to that comment on his supposed attractiveness.

The class was easy, even though he was arriving late in the year. He understood the worksheet quickly. Although Ekko wouldn’t call himself a nerd or even say that he particularly liked school, it had always come easy to him.

“You’re doing a nice job there,” Jinx nodded towards his sheet. 

He shifted his eyes over to her paper. She was also almost done, and she looked to be doing good. “So are you.”

“Meh,” She shrugged. “Not really my thing. I’m more of a gadgets and science gal, you know what I mean?”

For a second, Ekko was distracted by the sound of her voice. It had a raspy quality to it, but it was still sweet, and-

He stopped himself. You don’t even know her, stupid.

“Yeah, uh,” He stumbled over his words. “I’m into that stuff too.”

He looked back down at his sheet.

“One year for the robotics contest, I built this totally sick robot. Won first place. But I rigged it so that it would explode pink and blue glitter all over the judges just as they were awarding it…they’re still finding it all over the gym.” She giggles.

Ekko looks at the girl beside him. Maybe she is a little crazy.

“Did they disqualify you?”

She laughs harder. “Nah. They were too distracted by being covered in glitter to even think about that damn contest anymore.” She looks up at the wall, seeming lost in thought. “It was totally worth it.”

Jinx smirks at him when they both get yelled at for talking in class.

Even though she is not in his next class, Jinx takes him there anyway. She gives him a quick rundown of how the school works; who to avoid, who to make friends with.

“Oh, and.” She stops in front of the classroom 09. “If you ever need help with getting into some trouble or anything, let me know. I have…connections with the faculty, like I said before.” She smiles at him one more time before she’s lost in the crowd of the hallway.

Walking into classroom 09 alone, Ekko realizes that without Jinx there to guide him, he feels like a fish out of water in Zaun High. Everyone certainly looks at him like a fish that’s walking.

At lunch, Ekko doesn’t go to the cafeteria. For one, he’s not entirely sure where it is, and also, he has no one to sit with. So instead, he sits in the halls and messes around on his phone.

A boy sits down beside him, and he looks like he’s a year older than Ekko. A senior.

“You the new kid?” This boy doesn’t bother with introductions.

“Yeah.” Ekko crosses his arms over his body protectively.

“Hm.” The boy pauses. “I saw you hanging out with Jinx. I don’t know what she told you, but she’s bad news, ok? And honestly, there’s some boys here who would beat the shit out of you for getting to close to her.”

Ekko doesn’t know how to respond before the boy is gone, disappearing into the halls just like Jinx did.

He only spends a little time thinking about what he told him. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t already deduced himself.

It wasn’t like he was actively seeking out Jinx anyway. But, if he was to bump into her again, well…he wouldn’t try to deter her.

[hayanwulf]

Getting together fic wherein Stephen has a particularly bad hand pain day, and he struggles to hide it from a concerned Tony. Tony offers to give him some painkillers and massage Stephen's hands, and the touch starved, miserable sorcerer accepts. Tony massages his hands until the pills kick in, and then some just because, and eventually Stephen kisses him about it

Word count got completely out of hand. I regret nothing.

Stephen had woken up to throbbing pain in his hands, then had to deal with a manticore accidentally summoned by some idiots trying to summon ‘the devil’, then had to go to the fucking North Pole to close a dimensional rift there, and when he’d finally returned to the Sanctum, it was raining.

Overall, today was a fantastic day.

The Cloak had wandered off to somewhere shortly after their return from the North Pole. So now he sat alone and miserably in his study, grunting under his breath, hands half-buried under the bottom end of the MIT hoodie he was wearing. It was Tony’s hoodie — he’d had the privilege of getting to wear it for the first time only yesterday, and had instantly stolen it — and that was the only semblance of comfort he had right now.

His phone pinged and the screen lit up with a new notification. It was a message from Tony.

Would you like some carbonara?

No.. as nice as it would be to have lunch with Tony, Stephen’s hands wouldn’t even be able to handle the fork, let alone pick up some spaghetti without dropping it all over.

He would only make a fool of himself in front of Tony.

He picked up his phone with a very shaky hand, painstakingly unlocked the screen, and then spent the next few minutes just trying to type out two words without messing up. At times like these, he thought that he should really have accepted Tony’s offer for a better, more accessible, voice-command phone.

But.. but that would be admitting that he couldn’t even do simple, normal, everyday tasks by himself.

No. Stephen was more than capable of doing completely normal tasks all by himself.

He did not need anyone’s help, much less their pity.

After much grueling effort, he had finally typed out the words in his phone. He tapped the send button.

not hungry

His text was was almost immediately marked as read. Tony didn’t send another reply, though.

He realized, a little belatedly, that he probably looked like an asshole. Tony had been trying to invite him to lunch, and he’d outright rejected.

Tony’s typing bubble appeared after a few moments, drawing Stephen’s attention. It disappeared and reappeared a couple of times. But it didn’t take Tony long to send a text.

I’ll bring some over anyway, maybe Wong would like some. I made it, btw. Was proving a point to Capsicle. There’s plenty of leftover.

Oh. Tony had made it himself.

He had wanted to invite Stephen to lunch that he had made himself.

Well. Stephen positively looked like an asshole.

He flopped his head down on his desk, groaning lightly at his own stupidity. He was an utter and complete failure of a partner.

This day just kept getting better.

He turned his head where it rested on the desk to stare out through the window.

There was a time when he used to love the rain. Rain was comfort and calmness. The sound of raindrops hitting the earth was soothing, it made the soil’s scent pleasant, it lowered the temperature to an enjoyable level that made you want to sit near a large window with a book in your lap, a hot cup of aromatic tea on the table in front of you, and just enjoy the weather. What was there to not like about rain?

Now.. now Stephen loathed rain.

The drop in atmospheric pressure was never kind to his hands. It pulled and strained his joints and muscles, until they would scream in pain.

As it stood, that was exactly what the rain was doing to his hands right now.

It had only been a few minutes when the Sanctum notified him of Tony landing on the porch. Quickly getting up from the desk, he changed out of Tony’s hoodie with a quick motion of his hand, changing into his sorcerer robes.

When Tony was in through the door, he reached for the Sanctum’s energy and teleported the genius into his study, who took a second to rebalance himself upon blinking into existence in front of Stephen.

“Ugh, really freaky,” Tony said, shaking his head a little to dispel the momentary disorientation. “You do know that I’m capable of just walking over to you myself, like a normal human being?”

“You’ll live,” Stephen said, reaching for some books lying on his desk to collect them, hopefully making it look like he had been studying and not miserably lamenting over his hands. “And Wong is not on Earth today.” He bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grunting as a particularly sharp sting of pain shot up his right hand when he held three books in a stack.

“Oh, is that so.” Tony looked down rather somberly at the bag on his hand, then huffed. “Well, he’ll miss out on the best carbonara ever.”

Stephen looked down at the stack of books in his hands for a moment, then looked up at Tony. “Have you eaten yet?”

Tony shrugged. “Not really.”

“Have you brought enough for two people?”

Tony eyed him curiously. “I’ve brought enough for three people.”

For Tony, he could do this much, right? “Let me put these books back, and then we can eat together?”

Tony smiled, eyes sparkling with delight. “Let’s do that.”

Few minutes later, they in the kitchen.

Tony gleefully served the spaghetti into two plates, setting one down in front of Stephen, and sat down next to him with his own serving.

Stephen stared down at it. God, it smelled heavenly. He had no doubt that it would taste just as amazing. But..

The cursed fork.

Stephen quietly sighed, able to feel Tony’s expectant gaze on him. Well, he’d chosen this.

Tentatively, he picked up the fork with a shaky hand. His grip was shit, and trying to tighten it around the metallic handle made his muscles spasm. With whatever shaky grip he managed, he dug the fork into the spaghetti to try and lift some, that was when he heard Tony curse under his breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t even think of that,” Tony said, getting up. He reached to take the fork off of Stephen’s hand.

“Stop,” Stephen told him firmly, and Tony stilled. “Don’t. I can use a fork just fine, Tony.”

Tony was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to. We can order something else.”

“No. You made this.”

“Yeah but that was just to prove Capsicle that I do, in fact, know how to cook food and can do it really well. We don’t have to eat this, let’s—”

“I want to,” Stephen insisted, cutting Tony off. “I want to taste the food you’ve prepared with your own hands.”

Tony’s expression was a conflicting mix of concern and warmth. “Alright..” He sat down.

And Stephen wasn’t lying. He really did want to taste food of Tony’s hands. It wasn’t just for Tony’s happiness, though that did make it all the more worth it.

If he had to sit through a bit of pain and struggle for that, so be it.

He tried again, stabbing the fork into the spaghetti, and lifted up a small amount. His hands shook, and some strands of the pasta fell back into his plate. He still managed to put some into his mouth.

Goodness, it was so much better than he’d thought. He let out a low appreciative hum as he chewed it.

“This is.. amazing, Tony,” he told Tony, who preened with a wide grin on his face.

“Of course it is. I made it, after all,” Tony crowed, stuffing his mouth with some spaghetti.

Stephen rolled his eyes and dug his fork into his plate again.

His enjoyment died down rather quickly, as his hand spasmed more with each time he tried to scoop up some spaghetti. It got harder to not drop the strands, or even keep holding on to the fork. Tony must have noticed, he thought, but was choosing not to speak on it.

Stephen preferred it that way.

There was simply no need to make a big issue out of this.

“Here,” Tony said only moments after that, making Stephen turn towards him. The genius was holding his forkful of spaghetti extended towards Stephen.

“What?” Stephen asked.

“Let me feed you,” Tony explained, raising his fork closer to Stephen in emphasis.

Stephen gave him an affronted look. “What? No! I’m not a child.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re a grown ass man who doesn’t know how to ask for help. Yes, I know. That’s why I’m giving it.”

“Tony, I can eat by myself.”

Tony sighed. “Just let me do it, alright? Just like you wanted to eat my dish, I want to do this. It’s an act of service. I like doing it. Lemme do it.”

Douchebag. Using Stephen’s reasoning against him.

Stephen looked down at the fork in his shaking hands, then up at the fork being offered to him by Tony’s firm, steady hand. He sighed and dropped his fork back on his plate.

Tony gave a small, warm smile when Stephen ate from his hand.

“It wouldn’t kill you to ask for help every now and then, y’know,” Tony murmured in a low, gentle voice.

It certainly would kill Stephen’s pride, if not him, to ever ask for help from anyone in this plane of existence.

“You’ll live, I promise,” Tony added rather dryly; whether to his previous statement or if he read Stephen’s mind, Stephen wasn’t sure.

Even now, Stephen thought, he should feel embarrassed for needing help with something so trivial as eating. But..

But he didn’t.

The way Tony fed Stephen and himself with the same fork, eyes so warm and with a brilliance that could make the sun appear dull, the way he genuinely enjoyed servicing Stephen, thoughtful and patient with his action of feeding him.. Stephen didn’t feel like he was being looked down on. He didn’t feel pitied, he didn’t feel disabled.

He simply felt loved.

They ate in relative silence, save for Tony’s occasional rants on something or the other. Stephen was content to just listen and enjoy the closeness.

When they were done, Tony picked up the dishes and moved to the sink to wash them.

“Do you have painkillers?” The genius asked as he placed the clean dishes on the drying rack, and it really shouldn’t have surprised Stephen. Of course Tony had picked up that his discomfort was more than just not being able to hold a fork.

“In my room, yes,” Stephen replied. “But that won’t be needed.”

Tony tiredly rubbed his fingers over his eyes, then gave Stephen a deadpan expression that spoke ‘I’m not taking your bullshit today’.

“Really, it’s fine,” Stephen insisted.

A minute later, they were in Stephen’s room.

Tony made him sit down on the bed, handed him a pill of Naproxen, all the while grumbling under his breath something about ‘stubborn wizards’. Stephen popped the pill into his mouth, and Tony helped him gulp down a glassful of water before setting the empty glass away.

“Does it help to massage your hands?” Tony asked.

Stephen hesitated. He knew what question would follow that one.

But.. but perhaps a part of him wanted to be asked that.

“It does.”

Tony gave him a curious look, eyes open and almost pleading. “Would you let me..?”

Stephen bit the corner of his lip. He looked at the window that showed it to still be raining outside, then down at the hands on his lap, then back up at Tony.

“..Yes.”

Tony’s eyes eased into an invisible smile. He went around the bed, climbed from the other side, and settled himself at center of the large bed, back leaned against the headboard. He coaxed Stephen closer to him, who followed and leaned himself partly against the headboard, partly on Tony, and gave up his hands to Tony’s care.

Tony frowned at Stephen’s robes in distaste. “Are you seriously gonna wear that in bed too?”

Stephen huffed out a breath. He hadn’t exactly given it a lot of thought when Tony had landed in front of the Sanctum; he’d just wanted to hide Tony’s hoodie away.

With a quick motion, he changed into his own comfortable clothes — no, not Tony’s, he would not let Tony claim his MIT hoodie back anytime soon — and then relinquished his hand back in Tony’s hold. “There, happy?”

“Very fucking much. I don’t get how you can put up with wearing that 27 hours a day.”

Tony began to massage his hands. He was so gentle and careful with them, applying the lightest of pressure, massaging from the wrists slowly down to each finger. The touch of his warm fingers on Stephen’s cold ones felt soothing. In between the massage, Tony’s touches, at times, softly traced over the scars. But they never once felt intrusive. They felt like the delicate caress of a flower against a butterfly’s wing, harmless and gentle and so, so careful.

It was nice. It was safety and care and love. The pain was slowly forgotten, and Stephen’s mind was slowly lulled into a state of peace and comfort.

A moderately loud thunder crackled, and Stephen looked at the window to find it was absolutely pouring outside. The temperature had also fallen further by a few degrees. Sitting pressed against Tony and sharing their body heat, the temperature didn’t bother Stephen, nor his hands with how tenderly they were being cared for.

There was no book here, no tea, no large window to watch the rain outside. But, Stephen thought, that this weather was actually rather enjoyable.

Stephen never allowed anyone to touch his hands in such a way, or, hell, touch his hands at all. It was asking for too much trust, too much vulnerability on his side.

But with Tony.. Tony made it easy to lend him the trust, to share this vulnerability. It was so easy to let down his walls, allow this genius man in, and let him carve out a corner for himself in Stephen’s heart.

Vishanti, he was in love with this man, mind, soul, and body.

“How do you feel now?” Tony asked, looking up at Stephen with those brown, beautiful, expressive eyes.

Stephen simply leaned in, capturing his lips in a loving kiss. A sound of surprise escaped Tony’s lips, that turned into a delighted laugh as he reciprocated the kiss. Stephen channeled all of his affection, savoring Tony’s lips, hoping it communicated the sheer love he felt towards the genius.

When they parted, Stephen continued to pepper his jaw with more kisses. “Thank you, Tony,” he said as they leaned their foreheads together.

“Anyday for my Sweetcakes,” Tony said, and Stephen didn’t have to open his eyes to read the content smile on Tony’s face. His voice was more than enough.

[reidsaurora]

okay but consider

Spencer post prison needing his routine to be even more specific because he had such a rigid schedule while inside, like he always had lunch at the same time everyday, so you and spencer are like working a case and lunch starts to approach but everyone is kinda in the throws of research and spencer is clearly not doing so well

so you pull spencer aside and are like "spence whats wrong?" and he explains hes uncomfy cuz of wanting lunch at a specific time, so you talk to emily and the two of you take your lunch together, and it becomes kind of like a little routine for the two of you to take your lunches together

wrote a lil blurb about this because you, my love, deserved a lil blurb. hope ur having a lovely day!! 🫶🏻🧡

pov: Spencer is having a hard time adjusting to life outside of prison. luckily, he has you to make it better ♡

warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader, angst to fluff sorta, lots of talk about spencer's time in prison, descriptions of food, lots of crying, 0.9K words, not beta read!

Spencer looked up from his Tupperware container, curious eyes meeting yours. "What are you doing?" he asked, brows pinched together in confusion.

"Well," you started, sitting down across from him, "I wanted to have lunch with you. If that's okay."

He nodded slowly, setting his fork down and giving you his full attention. "Why?"

You let out a soft laugh as you began unpacking your lunchbag. "You're always sitting alone," you shrugged. "Figured I'd change that."

A tinge flooded the brunette man's cheeks. He looked away from you—though, he wasn't really looking directly at you in the first place—and focused his attention back on the Tupperware, poking around at his taco salad. He sent an understanding nod your way, as if unsure what to say next. You knew from experience that Spencer wasn't the most conversational person, having struggled with social cues, so you decided it was for the better to eat in peaceful silence.

The room remained comfortably quiet, a small space of availability staying open just in case Spencer had felt exceptionally talkative that day. You caught him occasionally glancing at you, like he'd wanted to close the small space you'd left open, but stayed silent anyway, wanting to finish his salad as quickly as humanly possible.

Finally, you decided to bite the bullet, so to speak, and crack the silence first. "Spencer, you know you can talk to us, right?"

He nodded, poking around at the ground beef that was left at the bottom of his bowl.

"I know things have probably been hard since…" your voice trailed off. Since what? Since prison? Since being locked in a cage for months? Since being tortured for days on end, probably?

"You can say the word, Y/N. It's not like it'll kill us to talk about," he grumbled, nearly under his breath. His eyes remained on the Tupperware, his cheeks heated as he continued to avoid your gaze.

"Spencer, I know it probably felt like you were alone in there," you started, your heart heavy as you thought about those agonizingly long three months he was stuck in that prison, "but I can assure you that you're not alone now. We're here for you. I'm here for you, Spence."

Finally, for what felt like the first time since he'd been locked up, his honey tinted eyes met yours, tears forming in them but not quite at the point of slipping down his cheeks. "I know, it's just… it's stupid."

"What's stupid?" you questioned, slightly hurt that he assumed you'd find whatever was bugging him ridiculous.

"The reason I keep leaving to eat lunch by myself. You guys are going to think it's stupid."

You weren't sure why you did it. You knew that Spencer wasn't a huge fan of physical touch, and it wasn't your place to do it anyway. Still, your hand moved across the table, your palm wrapping around Spencer's wrist, your delicate fingers seeming small in comparison to his giant hand. "Tell me. Please. I can't fix the problem if I don't know what's wrong, Spencer."

He looked down again, where your skin touched his, but didn't make any efforts to move. "I used to eat lunch every day at the same time by myself. Every day, at 12:07 p.m., I would sit alone at this table in the corner of the lunchroom. I made sure I was facing the door and facing everyone that came in, because I was getting so tired of having to watch my back every second that I was awake."

You placed your fork down before moving to sit down on Spencer's side of the picnic-style table, wrapping your arm around him. You knew it was ridiculous, putting your hands on him so many times in such a short span of time, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. Your palm splayed across his spine, rubbing soft circles as he fell against your frame. Tears fell down his cheeks and onto your shirt, broken breaths and sobs escaping his lips.

"You're never gonna go back to that place. Not if I'm around to stop it," you reassured him, holding him ever so close. "You will never have to live like that ever again. I promise."

His chest rose and fell in quick movements as his tears picked up. "I'm so scared, Y/N. I'm scared of going back. I'm scared of never being my old self again. I'm just… terrified."

You held him like that until his tears had slowed, and when they picked back up a second time, you just kept on holding him. Every tear he hadn't cried in prison had surely made its way to the surface, but neither of you cared. Even when you knew it was much past when you should've gone back to work. Even when five minutes turned into ten, and when ten minutes turned into twenty, and so on.

Spencer's dark eyes met yours, his cheeks still damp with the leftover tears that hadn't quite dried yet. "Thank you."

You gave him a gentle smile, the back of your hand reaching up to wipe your own cheeks where you'd cried for him. "Always, Spence."

"Do you think…" he started to ask, gaze breaking yet again.

Your brows furrowed as you wondered what he wanted to ask. Your stomach flipped at all the possibilities. "Yeah?"

"Do you think we could start doing this every day?" he finally asked. "Just until I start to feel safe again."

You didn't even have to consider your answer. "I think that would be excellent."

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @wwwonzeee @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose

[seeingivy]

bad day

eren jeager x f!reader 

**find the mini-series masterlist here 

eren can read you, like a book. except when he can’t. 

previous part linked here

- 

You wear your heart on your sleeve. Eren appreciates that about you. He’s been appreciating a lot of things about you lately - your cleanliness, your kindness, your eyes, not that he’d ever admit that. Annie had haphazardly mentioned that you were growing on Eren, which he denied. He was unsure why his cheeks were burning at the thought of it. 

He never realized someone could be so expressive, so lively when it came down to it. Ever since the two of you had established you were friends, which he thought was stupid because why wouldn’t you guys be friends, you were more comfortable - you talked to him more, brought him food on the way home from class, or came to watch his soccer games. 

One time, Eren made you breakfast in the morning when he noticed you were running late. Your morning reenactment of the Reputation Tour in the shower went on for too long and you were running throughout the apartment grabbing your stuff. When he handed you the bowl, he could have sworn his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Your big doe eyes, that silly little smile - he felt his breath stop in his tracks right there. He made you breakfast every day after just to see that look again. 

Eren can tell when you’re annoyed with him. Your shoulders get all tense and you stop talking, which he learned was so that you could avoid confronting him. If he pushes you enough, he’ll have the words spilling out of you - going on about how he doesn’t clean up the dirt he tracks in after practice, he leaves his laundry in the dryer too long, and he talks on the phone while you’re asleep too loudly. 

But what Eren can’t tell is what you’re feeling right now. You make dinner every night. Since Eren went out of his way to make breakfast everyday, he lets you make dinner or order for the two of you every night. He wouldn’t have agreed to it, but you can be surprisingly convincing if you want to be. Or he just gives in, because it’s you. 

You’re surprisingly quiet, wordlessly making the pasta you had picked out for dinner. Your shoulders are drooping down, the usual liveliness in your eyes absent. Your face is void from any emotion. It’s…uncomfortable. And he doesn’t like it. 

“Hey silly girl.” 

You hum in response, your eyes focused on the water that’s boiling. 

“What are we eating?” 

“Pasta, Eren.” 

He freezes. You never call him Eren. He never calls you Y/N, not unless it’s important anyways. 

He’d accrued a nice collection of nicknames for you - silly girl, peaches (because of your shampoo), and kitty (only because he loves the disgusted face you make every time he says it). 

You had your own for him as well - Kylo Ren (which he thought was a stupid play on words), stinky (because he doesn’t shower right after practice), and at odd times, you would call him bro, which he thought was absolutely disgusting coming out of your sweet little mouth. Why is he looking at your mouth? 

“What kind?” 

You sigh, the frustration rising into your cheeks. 

“I- I don’t want to talk right now. Just leave me alone.” 

You can feel the tears rising to your cheeks, the anger seething in you. You weren’t angry at him. You were angry at everything else - the tears rising in your cheeks, the day you had, the fact that you just snapped at him. 

You put the wooden spoon down, leaning your head against the counter. You push in on your eyes with your forearms, hoping the tears will disappear if you push them away. 

You feel Eren’s hand settling in your hair, soothing out the tangles from under your shirt. You sigh at the contact, lifting your head up to look at him. 

He’s leaning against the counter, his long sleeve pulled up to the middle of his forearm, his stupid veiny arms on display. 

“Talk.” 

“You have such a way with words, Eren.” 

He smiles, your talkback better than the frozen silence from earlier. 

“What happened, kitty?” 

“Ew, Eren. You’re so gross.” 

He laughs, still waiting for a response. You can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, the discomfort sitting in your chest. You sincerely hope it stays there and doesn’t spill out when you talk. 

“It just wasn’t my day today. I spilled the breakfast you made me on the shuttle to class, my professor called on me and I didn’t know the answer, Wall Rose made my coffee bad, my hair is standing up, I have a paper due in two days, I still have to do my laundry, I snapped at Armin at work and at you just now and I’m just really, really frustrated. There’s too much going on all at once.” 

He makes a mental note. If you’re surprisingly quiet, moving emotionlessly through the kitchen, you’ve had a bad day. You’ve had a bad day and you’re not talking to him to avoid taking it out on him. So sweet, even when you’re upset. 

The two of you stand in silence, as you swirl the pasta around in the pan. You hope it turns out good or you think you’ll actually lose it if one more thing goes wrong today. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm?” 

“Did you want a hug?” 

You freeze, the spoon you were using to stir clinking against the pan as you drop it. You turn your head to meet his eyes, as he towers over you. His hair is damn, the smell of his Irish Spring soap still clinging to his skin. 

“That’s embarrassing, Eren. You don’t have to like…pity me just because I’m upset.” 

Stubborn. To a fault. 

“Y/N. Maybe…I need the hug. Please?” 

You narrow your eyes, meeting his green ones. You can tell he’s waiting, still leaning against the counter next to you. He’s not going to take no for an answer is he? You roll your eyes, opening your arms. He sports a cheeky grin, pulling you close to him. 

The two of you stand like that for a while, your breaths moving in sync. You can feel your tears return, Eren rubbing small circles into your back. 

“You’re annoying. Did you do this with your other roommate too?” 

He laughs, the sound vibrating against your ear. You’re still pressed into his chest, tracking tears and snot onto his shirt. 

“Oh yeah. Samuel was a big crier. I had to spoon him every day when he came back from class.” 

You laugh, breaking apart to finish the pasta that you were making. But he takes over before you can, finishing making the rest for you. He dishes the pasta into two plates, balancing them in his hands as he walks over to the couch. 

You settle down next to him, the remote fixed in your hand. As you open up your Netflix account, you can feel Eren scoot closer to you, an annoyed look fixed on his face. 

“We’re not watching the Reputation Stadium Tour. I heard enough of that last week when you were showering.” 

You pause, still clicking through the different movies. 

“How did you know it was the Reputation Stadium Tour that I was singing?” 

He freezes, the bowl still in his hands. You look over, a strange look plastered on his face. There’s no way.  

The two of you eye his phone on the table in front of you and you reach for it before he does. You unlock his phone, scanning over for his Netflix app. He had to have watched it. How else could he know?

His hands reach for yours, wrestling the phone out of your hands. The two of you play tug of war, wobbling on your knees on top of the couch. You wrestle it out of his grasp but Eren loses his balance, toppling over you.

He’s leaning over you know, his hair flopped over his face as he towers over you. He props his hand against the side, hovering inches above you - his lips merely ghosting over yours. 

“Eren.” you whisper

“Hm?” 

“You watched the Reputation Stadium Tour, didn’t you?” 

You see an annoyed look settle on his face and swear his eyes dart down to your lips before he gets off of you. He sticks his hand out to pull you back up, handing you your bowl from the floor. 

“Tell anyone and I’ll skin you alive.” 

You smile, putting on the latest episode of Arrested Development to watch while you were eating. You try to avoid the pounding in your chest, the heat in your cheeks as you sit next to him, eating the dinner the two of you had made.

- 

next part linked here

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