#atting with the servers (love them)

[syrupfog]

It’s emoji time again

[thekamukuraproject]

Oh to be old (like 30) and be so undeniably in love and changed by your other half that the line of where you begin and where he ends is too blurred to distinguish

[sakiye]

saturday morning will decide my mood for the rest of the day

[sugusama]

hii, i loved your Katsuki fic and wanted to submit a request. katsuki x american gf reader, where he’s never met her but they try to talk throughout the day by texting or calling despite time difference. then they meet at the end of the fic as a surprise for katsuki (still UA au please). tyy :)

꒰🫧꒱﹒ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ﹒⟢ featuring: katsuki bakugo ‧₊˚ . ꣑୧

sypnosis ☆ bakugo never expected to fall for a girl halfway across the world… especially one with a six-hour time difference and a laugh that lives in his head rent-free. between classes at ua and her busy days in america, they text, call, and fall a little deeper with every message. but what happens when time zones and screens aren’t enough anymore? ⸝⸝ ᰔ ̫ ᰔ⸝⸝

content warnings ☆ fluff, comfort, a little angsty, ua based, black female reader, she/her used, lowercase intended, not proofread, bakugo has broken english, italics = japanese ๑•́ ₃ •̀๑

word count ☆ 1.1k

authors note ☆ hello hello! thank u so much for ur kindness 🌼 here you go! i hope you like this one just as much! if u would like anything else let me know!!

katsuki didn’t want to be part of any dumb online chat.

he hated talking for no reason. hated random people. especially hated wasting time when he could be training or doing something that mattered.

so when denki shoved his phone in his face during break and said, “bro, you gotta try this,” katsuki’s immediate response was no.

“it’s a server,” denki explained, grinning. “for, like, international hero fans. some of them are trying to get into schools like u.a. and they ask the weirdest shit.”

“not my problem.”

“c’mon. you can mess with them. they’ll lose their minds when you answer.”

“fuck off.”

but that night, katsuki couldn’t sleep. his shoulders ached from drills. his head was too loud with thoughts he didn’t want to think. and his phone, tucked under his pillow, kept buzzing with notifications from that stupid server denki added him to.

he stared at the screen for a while. thumb hovering over the app. then—he opened it.

a flood of posts. some boring. some weird. some flat-out wrong.

and then one message caught his eye.

|“so like… do students at u.a. really spar? like actually hit each other?”

the username was unfamiliar. your profile picture was a blurry sky—probably taken from your phone. and your bio just said “sleepy. always.”

he stared at your message longer than he meant to as he tried to decipher it.

then typed, slowly:

|“yes. we fight. real hits.”

a full six minutes passed.

he didn’t think you’d respond.

but you did.

|“wait WHAT. like actually?? is that even allowed???”

he snorted, eyes narrowing with a half-smile.

| “yes. is real. allowed. strong hits.”

your response came quicker this time.

| “dude! i’m american. our schools make us wear helmets to run in gym class. this is unfair.”

he let out something close to a laugh—just a small huff of breath—but it surprised him.

he didn’t answer. didn’t need to.

he already bookmarked your name.

he didn’t expect to hear from you again.

but the next night, just after dinner and before study hour, you were there.

| “hi again, explosion boy. (you got a better name?)”

he stared at the screen for a second before replying:

| “bakugo.”

| “ooh. that sounds cool. you sound cool. are you?”

he hesitated, then typed:

| “yes.”

you sent back the laughing emoji. then:

| “humble too.”

he didn’t know why it made his chest feel tight.

from there, it became… a thing.

late-night messages. voice notes. pictures.

you sent him one of your lunch—a sandwich and chips, nothing fancy—but you added,

| “i ate thinking of you. does that make me weird?”

he didn’t answer for a full hour.

then wrote:

| “no. i like that.”

you replied with a blushing emoji.

he stared at it too long.

he never liked phone calls. they were too much. too close.

but your voice was—soft. kind. playful in a way that made his chest ache.

your first voice note was just:

“hi. it’s weird hearing myself talk to you, but i wanted you to know what i sound like.”

and he listened to it.

three times.

the first time just to hear your tone. the second to understand every word. the third because… he missed it, even if it had only been a minute long.

his reply was rough. hesitant.

“hi. uh. i… don’t like talk. much. but… i like yours. voice.”

you sent back:

| “that was the sweetest thing ever, actually.”

after that, you started calling.

not every day. not long.

just enough.

he’d lie on his bed, staring at the ceiling, half-listening to your rambles about work and siblings and the weather. he didn’t talk much. didn’t know how to say all the things he was feeling in a language that always made his tongue trip.

but you didn’t mind.

you’d say, “you don’t have to talk. just stay on.”

so he did.

it happened slow.

your voice became part of his routine.

your good morning texts came while he was getting ready for class. your “i’m heading to bed, katsuki” messages always landed when he was on patrol.

you started sending pictures of things you loved. a book. your porch light. a sunset from your window.

he started sending them back.

once, he sent you a picture of his hand after training—bandaged, calloused, rough. and you wrote:

| “ i hope you rest, even when you think you don’t need it.”

and that line just… stayed.

for days.

he reread it during class. during silence. during nights when his head was too full and nothing felt steady.

he didn’t say he missed you.

but he did.

quietly. constantly.

time difference was cruel.

he hated that you were waking up when he was falling asleep.

he hated how sometimes he’d send a long message and forget what he wrote by the time you answered.

he hated how his chest twisted when he saw your name and couldn’t respond.

but you always made it easy.

“ i know you’re tired. you don’t have to talk. i just wanted to say i’m thinking of you… i’m still here. still cheering for you. always.”

you made it feel like you were closer than you were.

and yet, the space between you ached more with every week.

he didn’t notice when he fell.

not until kirishima asked him why he was smiling at his phone.

not until his chest ached when you didn’t text.

not until he caught himself learning english phrases just to tell you things the right way.

he didn’t tell anyone.

not even you.

but he sent you a voice note at midnight, after a long day, voice hoarse and quiet:

“i… i like talk to you. always. i wait for you. even when late. just so you know.”

you didn’t reply with a voice note.

you replied with a text:

| “me too, katsuki. every day.”

he didn’t sleep that night.

it came suddenly, the text message read:

| “if i ever came to japan… would you wanna meet me?”

he sat up in bed like he’d been punched.

heart pounding.

he typed.

deleted.

typed again.

finally, he sent:

| “yes. i want. i wait for you.”

and then he waited.

one hour.

then two.

you didn’t reply that night.

and he told himself it was okay.

even if it wasn’t.

two weeks.

that’s how long it took.

two weeks of silence. of almost texting you. of wondering if he’d said something wrong.

then—midnight.

his phone buzzed.

| “come outside kats <3 ”

his hands shook.

he ran.

didn’t care who saw. didn’t care that he was barefoot.

and there you were.

standing at the gate. hoodie on. suitcase by your side. scarf he mailed you wrapped around your neck.

you smiled.

“hey.”

he didn’t say anything. just stared.

you stepped forward. nervous.

“you’re taller than i thought,” you teased.

he swallowed hard. voice rough.

“you’re… real.”

you laughed. tears in your eyes.

“told you i’d come.”

the aching, the quiet missing, the longing—

and then he held you.

and everything he’d been holding in— spilled into the way he buried his face in your neck and breathed like he could finally exhale.

[cephaloph0re]

we're going back to the first thanksgiving

everyone lets do this ok? play touys

[woniedarlin]

Love at First Bite

Pairing: Chef! Jay x Food Lover! Reader

Synopsis: Jay, a perfectionist chef, has no time for distractions, so when an ordinary guest like you barges into his world, eating like it’s your last meal, he becomes irritated. What starts as irritation turns into late-night kitchen encounters, and moments that leave Jay wondering if it was just the food or you all along.

Author's Note: Yes, I watched Attack on Titan. The idea was random because I suddenly thought of Sasha and Niccolo. And then I thought of Jay. So I put two and two together, and voilà! Most of my works are about Jungwon, but I also wanted to start writing about other members—so I started this. Happy reading!

Warnings: This story is a fun, lighthearted take on a food-loving character. No harmful eating behaviors are intended. It also contains moments of class-based prejudice.

Permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy

Heavily based on Sasha and Niccolo from Attack on Titan.

The rich smell of seared meat and herbs drifted through the grand dining hall of Luminara, the finest restaurant in Korea. The chandeliers lit up, and the voices of high-class guests were heard. Jay stood behind the counter with his arms crossed, looking closely at the dishes before him. Each plate he sent out was a piece of art made with care and pride. He had spent years refining his craft, serving only the most elite patrons who understood fine dining. He didn’t cook for just anyone. Only those who could appreciate the delicate balance of flavors and the effort behind every carefully plated meal.

"Jay," the owner of Luminara approached him with a smile. “Tonight, we’re inviting a few special guests. Not our usual clientele, but a few people outside this city are getting a taste of real luxury."

Jay frowned and set down his utensils. "You’re letting outsiders in? What’s the point? This place was built on exclusivity."

The owner chuckled at Jay’s apparent irritation. "To remind ourselves what food is really about. You’ll see."

Jay scoffed. He didn’t cook for people who wolfed down meals without appreciating the craftsmanship behind them. He cooked for those who knew how to savor every bite, who understood the layers of flavors and the artistry in each presentation. The thought of common diners stuffing their faces without a second thought made his blood boil. But the decision wasn’t his, and as much as he hated it, he had no choice but to comply.

As the evening went on, the dining hall changed. Louder and rougher conversations replaced the usual calm atmosphere. The guests that gathered had a different energy. They weren’t dressed in tailored suits or designer gowns. They were ordinary people, eyes wide as they took in the grandeur of Luminara. Some gawked at the lavish decor, while others whispered excitedly, clearly unfamiliar with such luxury.

Jay watched with narrowed eyes as the servers hesitated before placing dishes in front of these new guests. He clenched his jaw as laughter echoed from a table near the center, a sound far too carefree for his liking. His gaze zeroed in on one particular diner who was already making an impression…and not in a good way.

You were excited and couldn’t sit still as you looked at the menu. When the server brought a basket of fresh bread, you eagerly dug in, enjoying the soft, warm rolls as if you hadn’t eaten in days. Jay noticed your lack of grace and restraint

This was pure indulgence.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath while shaking his head.

Then came the main course: a perfectly cooked steak, truffle-infused mashed potatoes, and a delicate garnish. As soon as it was set in front of you, you dug in without waiting. Your fork and knife moved quickly, and you ate before the server left. Jay frowned when he saw this. This was precisely what he had worried about. His food was being consumed without any appreciation.

But then, something unexpected happened. You stopped eating, and your face changed into something gentler. Tears filled your eyes as you softly said, "This is the best thing I've ever eaten."

Jay felt embarrassed and looked away, frowning. "What an idiot," he said quietly.

For the first time, someone had shown pure joy from his food.

Sitting next to you, your friends exchanged looks as they watched you joyfully eat bite after bite, with tears still shining in your eyes. "Slow down!" one of them urged. "You're going to choke if you keep eating like that!"

You barely acknowledged them, too overwhelmed by the flavors dancing on your tongue. Between mouthfuls, you managed to blurt out, "This is—so—good!" before hastily swallowing and turning toward the kitchen. "Chef!" you called out with gratitude. "Thank you! This is the best meal I've ever had!"

Jay, observing the scene from afar, stiffened at the sudden attention. His ears burned red. "There's more food," he snapped. "Stop crying over one dish." His flustered expression only deepened when you eagerly nodded, grabbing your utensils to continue devouring your meal.

Despite his grumbling, Jay found himself sneaking another glance at you. Something about how you appreciated his cooking….so openly and genuinely…affected him deeply.

The restaurant remained open for drinks and light conversation as the night wore on. The kitchen, however, had officially closed. Jay retreated to his station, cleaning up and ensuring everything was in order before heading out for the night. The owner was still entertaining the guests, their laughter filling the otherwise quiet space.

But then, a sound of soft footsteps on the tile.

Jay narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t alone.

Peeking around the corner, he spotted you crouched near the counter, eyeing a tray of leftovers. Your fingers twitched as you reached for a piece of untouched steak. Before you could bite it entirely, however—

"What the hell are you doing?"

You froze mid-bite, eyes wide, as you turned toward Jay. His arms were crossed, and his face had an unimpressed scowl, but the slight furrow in his brows betrayed his disbelief.

"Uh… late-night snack?" you offered sheepishly while the stolen food was still halfway to your mouth.

Jay let out a sharp sigh and rubbed his temples. "Unbelievable. Don’t you have no shame?"

"I do!" you protested. "But look at this! It’s a crime to let food this good go to waste!"

Jay opened his mouth to argue, but then he noticed how you looked at the food, like it was some treasure. That same unfiltered joy from earlier still sparkled in your eyes, and damn it, it made something in him falter.

"Tch," he muttered. "Please… sit down properly if you’re going to eat."

Your face lit up. "Really? You’re letting me?"

"I didn't say that! Just—" He groaned. "don’t make a mess."

You grinned, eagerly settling into one of the kitchen stools. As you took your first bite, humming in delight, Jay crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, watching you.

"By the way, I’m y/n!" you said brightly as you extended your free hand while holding a piece of steak in the other. "Nice to meet you, Chef grumpy!"

Jay scoffed but hesitated before shaking your hand. "Jay."

You smiled and chewed happily. "You know, you’re talented. I think you might be the best chef in the whole world."

Jay’s face turned red. "Shut up and eat."

♟️

Weeks had passed since the night Jay caught you sneaking into the kitchen, and somehow, your presence had become a constant in his life. You weren’t just another guest the restaurant had invited once, and you kept returning. Sometimes, it was with the same group of people who had been asked that first night. Other times, it was just you, sitting at a table near the kitchen, peeking inside whenever you thought no one was looking.

Jay had no idea why the owner let you roam around so freely, but somehow, he always ended up dealing with you. At first, he acted indifferent, telling himself he didn’t care. But over time, he found himself watching how your eyes lit up at the sight of food, how you would hum in satisfaction after the first bite.

Tonight was no different. The dinner had ended, and the kitchen had closed, but the restaurant remained open while the owner entertained the guests. You, as usual, had eaten to your heart’s content…or so it seemed…until you suddenly groaned.

“I’m still hungry.”

Your friends turned to you in horror. “You just ate a five-course meal!” one of them whispered sharply. “Stop embarrassing yourself.”

“But I’m seriously still hungry,” you whined and pouted. “It’s not my fault everything was so good! I could eat forever.”

Cleaning up near the kitchen entrance, Jay overheard your complaint and sighed heavily. He really shouldn’t care. He really shouldn’t.

Yet, before stopping, he muttered, “Wait here.”

A few moments later, he returned, placing a plate before you. It wasn’t on the menu, just something he had made earlier and hadn’t used. “Eat this,” he said. “It was going to be wasted anyway.”

Your eyes widened as your eyes lightened up instantly. “For me? Really?” Without hesitation, you dug in, humming happily after the first bite. “Ah, Jay, you’re seriously a genius! This is amazing!”

Jay cleared his throat as a faint pink dusted his ears. “Whatever. Just don’t complain about being hungry anymore.”

Your friends exchanged knowing looks while you, completely oblivious, happily continued eating. Jay wasn’t sure what was more frustrating,

How you ate so eagerly, or how he wanted to see that reaction again.

♟️

Time had passed, and somehow, you were still here.

Jay wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, he stopped questioning why you kept showing up at the restaurant. It had become typical to see you hovering near the kitchen, making excuses to talk to him, sneaking bites of food whenever you thought he wasn’t looking.

At first, he was irritated. You were loud and shameless and had no concept of acceptable dining etiquette. But then, something changed…

Maybe it was how you reacted to his food as if every bite was the best thing you’d ever tasted. Perhaps it was how you always showed up with the same bright energy, never letting his cold demeanor push you away. Or maybe it was because, without realizing it, you had started learning more about him.

You knew that Jay had been cooking since childhood, that his parents expected him to be the best, and that he had spent years perfecting his skills. You knew he barely had time for himself, rarely ever sat down to eat his dishes, and hated when people wasted food. “You never actually enjoy your cooking, do you?” you asked one evening, watching as he wiped down the counters after a long shift.

Jay barely glanced at you. “I taste everything I make.”

“That’s not the same,” you argued. “Tasting and enjoying are two different things.”

He scoffed. “Not for me.”

You rested your chin on the counter while watching him work. “You know, I think I’m starting to understand you.”

He shot you a skeptical look. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded. “You act like cooking is just a job, but deep down, it’s more than that. You want people to appreciate your food but pretend not to care. You act like you’re all serious and professional, but you secretly have a soft spot for people who genuinely enjoy eating.”

Jay stilled for a moment, “Shut up.”

You grinned. “See? You’re blushing. I noticed it whenever your ears redden.”

“I’m not,” he grumbled and turned his back to you.

But he didn’t tell you to leave.

And when he caught you stealing a bite from a leftover dish, he sighed and slid the entire plate toward you instead of scolding you.

♟️

The restaurant was packed days later, filled with the city’s most elite customers. You sat at your usual spot, enjoying a simple dish Jay had grudgingly given you when the sound of elegant laughter caught your attention. At the entrance, a woman stepped in. A textbook definition of perfection. She was tall and graceful, dressed in a designer outfit that screamed wealth, and walked with the confidence that made people turn their heads.

You hadn’t thought much of it until you saw her walk straight to Jay.

She leaned in slightly as she spoke. Jay didn’t react much but didn’t brush her off either. Instead, he listened, nodding occasionally as she continued talking.

You felt so different…

You had never thought about it before, but seeing someone so poised, so naturally fitting into Jay’s world, made you feel… small like you didn’t belong here.

You stared down at your plate and suddenly lost your appetite.

“What are you doing here?” A sharp voice cut through your thoughts.

You looked up to see a wealthy-looking man sitting at a nearby table. His eyes narrowed in distaste as he glanced at your plate.

“I—uh, eating?” you answered, confused by his hostility.

He scoffed. “Do you even belong in a place like this? The owner lets anyone in these days.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as embarrassment flooded through you. You weren’t dressed in designer clothes, you didn’t have the same effortless elegance as the other guests, and you certainly didn’t carry yourself like someone who belonged in a fine-dining restaurant.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you were just a joke here.

And for the first time, you pushed your plate away. You suddenly didn’t feel so hungry anymore.

But before you could get up, a familiar voice interrupted.

“If you have a problem, take it somewhere else.”

Jay’s voice was colder than you’d ever heard it.

The rude customer was startled by his tone. “Excuse me?”

Jay didn’t back down. “They’re a guest here. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”

The entire table fell silent. Even the elegant woman Jay had been talking to earlier turned to watch the scene unfold.

Your heart pounded. You had never expected him to defend you.

The rude customer scoffed, muttering something under his breath before turning away.

You looked up at Jay, who still had that unreadable expression. But instead of saying anything, he picked up your untouched plate and placed it back in front of you.

“Eat.” His voice was quieter this time.

You hesitated. “But—”

“You like food, don’t you?” he muttered, “Don’t waste it just because of some idiot.”

Your chest tightened.

For the first time, Jay wasn’t just tolerating your presence. He was defending it.

♟️

The night air was cool as you stepped out of the restaurant. You were still feeling a little shaken from earlier. You weren’t sure why the customer’s words had gotten to you so much. Maybe it was because, deep down, you had already felt like you didn’t belong.

You sighed, hugging your arms as you stared at the street. It was late, and you’d have to catch a bus home.

“Let’s go.”

You turned at Jay’s voice, surprised to see him standing beside you with car keys.

“Huh?”

He looked uncomfortable. “I’ll drive you home.”

You blinked. “Why?”

Jay scoffed. “Do you always question free rides?”

“Well, yeah. Especially from you.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s late. I’m not letting you take the bus alone.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure him out. This was the same Jay who had barely tolerated your presence when you first met. And now he was offering to take you home?

A slow smile crept onto your lips. “Jay, are you being nice to me?”

His ears immediately turned red. “Get in the car before I change my mind.”

Giggling, you hopped into the passenger seat.

The drive was quiet at first. Jay kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel. You, on the other hand, kept sneaking glances at him. “You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “I think I like this side of you.”

He scoffed. “What side?”

“The side that cares.”

Jay clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I don’t care.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.”

He exhaled sharply. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re blushing.”

“I’m not—” He groaned, “I should’ve let you take the bus.”

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had all night. Maybe you didn’t fit into the world of fine dining and expensive lifestyles, but Jay was letting you into his for some reason.

And for now, that was enough.

The car slowed to a stop in front of your place. You unbuckled your seatbelt, stretching slightly before turning to Jay with a grin.

“Thanks for the ride, chef.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

You giggled. “Okay, okay. Thanks, Jay.”

He didn’t respond. Typical.

You opened the door but hesitated before stepping out. Maybe it was because Jay, despite all his grumbling, had gone out of his way to make sure you got home safely. Before you could overthink it, you leaned over and quickly kissed his cheek.

Jay froze.

You pulled back, biting back a laugh at how his entire body tensed up.

“Goodnight, Jay!” you chirped, hopping out of the car before he could react.

Jay remained in the driver’s seat and did not move for five minutes.

Then, slowly, his head dropped forward, pressing against his hand, while the other remained tightly gripping the steering wheel. Completely flustered.

♟️

The kitchen was silent. It was tense, almost cinematic kind, where something big was about to happen. You stood in the middle of the restaurant’s empty kitchen. You looked determined. The lighting overhead made dramatic shadows across your face. In one hand, you gripped a whisk like a weapon; in the other, a wooden spoon rested firmly against your palm.

Jay, dressed in casual clothes for once, an oversized hoodie and joggers, stood by the doorway watching you with the most unimpressed expression.

“…What are you doing?” he asked flatly.

You took a slow breath. Then, with all the seriousness of a battle-hardened warrior, you said:

“Let’s go.”

Jay blinked. “Go where?”

“To war.” You turned and grabbed an apron, tying it around your waist swiftly. “Tonight, I become a chef.”

Jay groaned as he was dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my god. No.”

“Yes.” You opened the fridge with purpose. Your eyes scan its contents. “I will cook. And you will teach me.”

“I never agreed to this.”

You turned to him. “You are my mentor. My guide. My—”

“I literally never agreed to this,” he repeated, but you were already gathering ingredients, your mind was set.

Jay sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He should’ve just walked out, gone home, and left you to whatever chaos you were about to cause. But instead, he leaned against the counter and muttered, “Fine. But don’t start crying when you ruin something.”

You grinned. “I would never.”

Fifteen minutes in, you were a wreck.

Tears streamed down your face as you aggressively rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. You were sniffling so hard.

Jay squinted at you. “…Are you crying?”

You sniffled. “No.”

“You are.”

“It’s just—” You wiped your sleeve across your face, only to wince when the burning worsened. “Why do my eyes feel like they’re on fire?!”

Jay blinked. Then, very slowly, he pointed at the cutting board. “You do know onions make you cry, right?”

You stared at him while mouth slightly open. Then, in pure confusion, you looked down at your hands.

“…Wait.” You squinted. “Is that why?”

Jay’s jaw dropped. “You—you didn’t know?!”

You gasped. “I thought my body was just rejecting cooking!”

Jay dragged a hand down his face. “Oh my god.”

Still wholly clueless, you kept rubbing at your eyes…

with the same onion-covered hands.

Immediately, you let out a strangled noise. “WHY IS IT GETTING WORSE?!”

Jay smacked his forehead. “Stop rubbing your eyes!”

“But they sting!”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE RUBBING ONION JUICE ALL OVER THEM!”

The realization finally hit you. You froze, hands still pressed against your face.

“…Oh.”

There was a pause. Then, Jay let out a soft, breathy laugh, barely audible at first, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. He pressed a hand against his lips. You could see his shoulders shaking slightly. The sound wasn’t mocking or loud… it was quiet, amused, genuine.

You frowned. “Are you laughing?”

Jay exhaled, looking down for a second before meeting your gaze again. “No.”

“You so are.”

Jay let out another chuckle before reaching for your wrist. “Come here.”

He guided you toward the sink, turning on the faucet. He didn’t say much, gently nudging your hands under the running water to help you rinse them off. His touch was careful.

“…You laughed,” you mumbled while watching him out of the corner of your eye.

Jay huffed softly and shook his head as he grabbed a towel to dry his hands. “Maybe.”

You stared at him. “You never laugh.”

Jay glanced at you, then looked away as he wiped his hands. “Guess you’re just that ridiculous.”

You pouted. “Hey—”

Before you could finish, he flicked a drop of water at your face, his smirk widening slightly.

For some reason, your face suddenly felt warmer than before.

♟️

You were stirring the sauce as brows furrowed in concentration. Jay stood beside you,

“Not bad,” he murmured, peering over your shoulder.

You perked up. “Really?”

“Mhm.” Jay reached over, his hand brushing against yours as he adjusted your grip on the spoon. “But you’re stirring too aggressively. It’s sauce, not a workout.”

You rolled your eyes but followed his guidance, stirring slower.

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. The only sounds were the pot's gentle bubbling and the occasional spoon scrape against the pan.

Then, suddenly—

“Jay.”

He hummed.

You turned your head slightly, only to realize how close he was. His face was just inches away. You could see the sharpness of his jaw and the slight curve of his lips.

Your heart stuttered.

“…You have flour on your cheek.”

Jay blinked. “What?”

You grinned. Before he could react, you reached up, swiping your thumb against his cheek. “There.”

Jay stiffened. His eyes flickered to yours, and neither moved for a second. He didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned in, his eyes dropping to your lips for the briefest moment before going back up.

It happened so quickly and naturally that you almost didn’t process it.

A soft press of lips.

Warm. Gentle. Just a second, maybe two…barely enough time for your brain to catch up.

Then Jay pulled back,

You blinked.

He blinked.

Then, instead of scrambling for words or looking away, Jay exhaled softly. A small smile, barely there but real…tugged at his lips as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh…” he murmured. His eyes softened as he looked at you. “What would I do if I never met you?”

For once, you had no words.

And Jay… Jay just kept smiling.

♟️

You both sat at the kitchen counter, and the freshly cooked meal was between you. For once, it wasn’t just Jay’s cooking. It was something both of you had made together. Jay picked up a spoon and scooped up a bit of the dish. You watched as he took the first bite,

Your fingers fidgeted slightly against your lap. “…So?”

Jay chewed slowly, eyes narrowing as if analyzing every flavor and texture. You swore he was dragging this out on purpose.

Then, after what felt like forever, he exhaled softly. “It’s… not bad.”

You gasped. “Not bad? Jay, that’s practically a Michelin-star review coming from you!”

His lips twitched. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Then, without hesitation, he scooped up another bite and held the spoon out toward you.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Just eat.”

Not one to refuse food, you quickly leaned forward, taking a bite.

The moment the flavors hit your tongue, your eyes lit up. “Oh my god—” You barely even finished chewing before eating at your usual speed before reaching for another bite.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Hey. Slow down.”

You barely heard him, too caught up in how delicious it was. “I can’t! It’s so good!”

Jay sighed, shaking his head, but his expression had no real annoyance. It's something softer. Fond.

“…You’re one of a kind” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You grinned at him while still chewing.

His ears turned slightly pink, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he chuckled and reached over, ruffling your hair gently before pulling his hand away. He shook his head. “Finish your food.”

And so you did.

♟️

Since that night in the kitchen, things between you and Jay had felt… different. Not in a bad way. Just softer. Warmer. He wasn’t as quick to roll his eyes at you anymore, and sometimes, you caught him watching you for no reason.

Today, the two of you had decided to hang out outside of the restaurant, outside of work. It was nothing extravagant, just a simple walk through a quiet part of the city, stopping by different food stalls because you couldn’t eat while out. As you happily munched on some street food, Jay suddenly cleared his throat beside you.

You glanced at him. “What’s up?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small box, and handed it to you.

“Huh? What’s this?” you said, confused, while accepting the box.

“Just open it.”

You gave him a suspicious look but did as told, flipping open the box. Inside sat a small but delicate pastry. Something handcrafted, topped with intricate chocolate lettering that read:

“I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

You stared at it. Then at him. Then, back at the pastry.

Silence.

And then—

You burst out laughing.

Jay’s face turned red in an instant. “Why are you laughing?”

You clutched your stomach, still laughing between breaths. “Because! This is so you! Instead of just saying it, you baked the question?”

Jay groaned and rubbed his face. “I knew you’d react like this.”

Still grinning, you looked at him. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, chef.”

Jay exhaled, his shoulders relaxing because he had been holding his breath the whole time. But then, he quickly narrowed his eyes at you. “You still have to eat that, you know.”

You picked up the pastry with a smirk. “Obviously.”

And with that, you took a big bite,

Answering him in the best way you knew how.

♟️

The kitchen was alive with movement. The clang of pots and pans echoed against the walls as chefs moved swiftly to prepare for one of the year's most meaningful events. Jay stood at the center, commanding the room with his sharp gaze and precise instructions. “Keep the plating clean. We need consistency across all dishes,” he ordered, scanning the line of chefs. “Timing is everything tonight. If one dish is late, it throws off the whole rhythm. Stay focused.”

He was strict, but only because he wanted everything to be correct.

And then—

He saw you.

Standing at the kitchen entrance, watching him with that bright, familiar smile.

His expression softened in an instant. His tense grip on his clipboard relaxed, and before anyone could say anything, he walked over to you and gently kissed your forehead. “You’re early,” he murmured, his voice losing its previous sharpness.

You grinned. “Figured I’d get a sneak peek of the magic before the event starts.”

Jay chuckled. “You’re lucky I’m making an exception for you being in here.”

You pouted. “I’m always the exception.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. “Let’s step outside for a bit before I get pulled back in.”

The two of you found a corner outside the kitchen,

“You’re amazing at this, you know,” you said as you watched him fondly. “You look so in your element back there.”

Jay sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s stressful, but yeah… I love it.”

“And I love watching you do what you love.”

He looked at you softly. “You always say things like that so easily.”

You shrugged. “It’s because I mean them.”

Jay exhaled and shook his head with a quiet laugh. “I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder. “At least you’ll be well-fed.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah… I think I can live with that.”

As the evening carried on, as the restaurant filled with guests and the kitchen came alive with the sound of cooking, Jay worked with a little more lightness in his heart,

Because no matter how busy or stressful things got, he knew that you'd always be there at the end of the day.

[mister0ctopus]

Server Room (5)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary:  Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 4.8K

a/n: we’re back, baby!! lol🥳 sooo sorry for the delay, but we’re picking things up from here on out. thanks for waiting! hope you enjoy this chapter! and pleaaaseee drop your thoughts, feedback, ideas, anything hehe, whatever’s on your mind! hearing from you is the BEST part of this whole journey. i love reading your thoughts, my dear fwendsss!! 🤍✨

🐙 Masterlist / Thoughts?Asks?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

Fuck, you’re wet.

Your feet, obviously—soaking and ice-cold. And then there’s the tapping on the window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Like when you were a kid, sitting in an exam hall, drumming your pen against the desk. Your mind blank, and the answers wouldn't come, even though you’d studied all night.

Failure looming.

At the test. At being a daughter.

You hate that sound. That insufferable, rhythmic tapping.

And it’s getting closer.

And louder.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You wake up.

Your eyes blink against the darkness, adjusting slowly. The room is quiet, except for the steady, insistent rain. Moonlight spills through the window, drawing your gaze to the slight opening.

Oh. That’s why….

The rain has slipped in, dampening the edge of your bed.

You sit up quickly, shivering as you get up from bed, feet meeting the cool floor. The window creaks as you close it gently until you hear a soft click. You rub your arms for warmth as you switch on the night lamp. And that’s when you notice her—Allie, curled comfortably under blankets on her bed, snoring softly.

Wait… when did she get here?

Everyone was in the cottage when you left for the cabin to shower. And then, well… you passed out after coming too hard.

Your gaze flickers to the brush on your bed, and your cheeks flush.

How long have you been asleep?

You press your fingers against your temples, trying to piece things together. The cabin is now still—no voices, no laughter, no footsteps. A stark contrast to the chaos and loudness from your drunk friends earlier. 

Just rain. Just the lake, its waves lapping softly against the shore.

Then, the ache in your stomach makes itself known. 

Right. 

You barely ate at dinner, thinking you’d feast later while hanging out. But you didn’t—because you had… other things to take care of.

You glance down—oversized shirt, bare legs, only your panties.

With a sigh, you grab your pajama shorts, slip them on and head for the kitchen to hunt for food. 

The kitchen downstairs awaits, and right now, food is the only thing that matters.

The kitchen light is on when you step downstairs, casting a soft glow over the quiet house. The scent of perilla oil lingers in the air, minty, fresh, and inviting. Someone else is awake—someone who shares your late-night hunger.

You nearly stop, nearly, when you see who it is.

Jungkook.

He’s caught up in his own world, standing by the counter in the center of the kitchen, in matching brown short-sleeved pajamas. You can tell he was almost ready for bed before deciding on a midnight snack. He’s carefully separating the egg yolk from the whites, his teeth catching his bottom lip in concentration. You can’t help but snicker.

His head snaps up, eyes widening. He clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he states the obvious.

“Yeah, I got hungry,” you murmur, stepping off the last few stairs. Your feet are light against the floor as you move toward the counter, pretending not to notice the way he watches you approach.

“I’m making Makguksu Noodles. Wanna try?” he asks, wiping yolk from his fingers.

Your throat tightens as you watch the glossy residue of the egg whites coat his long fingers while he separates the yolk.

You don’t realize you haven’t answered until he’s already plating two portions. That’s when you notice—his pajamas are slightly sheer, just enough for you to see the black boxer shorts underneath. 

He glances at you just as you lower yourself onto the stool and the two of you move in silence. Him focused on mixing the noodles in the bowl, and you focused on not letting your eyes linger on how his shirt stretches over his muscles with every movement.

When the food is ready, he slides a plate toward you. You both eat quietly. Aside from a few stolen glances, you’re still groggy from your unexpectedly heavy nap. 

You don’t even realize you’ve been zoning out until Jungkook has to repeat himself. “Did you seriously nap that long?” he teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah…” You blink, forcing yourself back to the present. “Didn’t even realize I fell asleep after showering. I was gonna head back to the cottage, but everyone was already sleeping when I woke up.”

Jungkook hums, his smirk still present, but his eyes stay locked on his empty plate, as if deliberating something. “Were you that tired?”

“Yeah…” You trail off as you push your plate away, trying to avoid his gaze.

A beat of silence.

“You took your time in the shower,” he says casually but his grip on his glass is a little too tight as he lifts it to his lips.

Oh.

“Hmm… I kinda did,” you admit. “Needed to cool off.”

Jungkook tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Did it work?”

The corner of his mouth twitches like he already knows the answer. Like he’s waiting for you to lie.

“A little,” you murmur, holding his gaze, daring him to push further.

Something shifts in the air between you. He takes his time clearing the plates, loading them in the dishwasher with unhurried movements. 

But that smug expression is still there, taunting you, making you curious.

And then, he turns and walks toward you, drying his hands with a paper towel, closing the distance. He stops directly in front of you, his hands bracing against the table as he leans in, only the table separating you now.

“Just a little?” He asks like he knows something.

“So you still need help, then?”

“Help with what?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to shield you from his assessing eyes.

Jungkook’s smirk deepens as he tosses the paper towel aside before he leans in just a fraction closer.

“Dunno,” he shrugs. “With anything.”

His eyes flicker down to your lips, then to your throat, then back up again, holding you in place.

“Anything?” you repeat.

He answers with a chuckle.

“I heard you, you know?” his voice is soft, but the words are sharp. “Earlier. In your room.

“What did you hear?”

“Everything” 

Oh…

His audacity is shocking, but you don't beat around the bush.

And this, he must know.

“Okay, well… oops? Caught me,” you giggle, trying to regain control. But you won’t let him have all the power.

“I saw you too... In the Server Room.”

A smirk.

No actually, a chuckle.

“I know,” he says simply, his voice low, his gaze sharp. “I saw you leave.”

“So, I guess now we’re even,” you chuckle. But you hold your head high, locking your gaze with his.

“Now we’re even,” he echoes, but there’s no humor in his tone.

“Was that your first time? Touching yourself… thinking about me?” you ask, your pulse quickening.

“Yes.” His voice drops lower, like a caress. “First time in the Server Room.”

Your breath catches, his honesty hitting you in your core, a heat pooling low in your belly.

"How about you?" He tilts his head, gaze heavy. "First time getting yourself off to the thought of me? Moaning my name like that?"

"In this cabin?" You drag it out, making him wait, reveling in the way his jaw clenches.

Then, finally, you answered. "Yeah."

A slow, satisfied exhale leaves his lips, and his tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip. 

"Good. Where else?”

Audacious. Bold. You love it.

You lift a brow, feigning thoughtfulness, your voice above a whisper. "Mostly my bed."

His voice drops lower. "Mostly?"

Then, he moves closer, past the table. Closer to you. You’re still seated on the stool, and as you swivel to face him, he stays just where he is—so close, yet not touching. But the space between you is thin, too thin. You can smell his aftershave, the soft, clean scent of his fabric conditioner.

Silence stretches before you tilt your head with a smirk. "Want a list?"

"Uh-huh." His hum is low, amused… and then, he moves towards you, closer, grazing your knees.

You instinctively spread your legs for him, letting him in.

"Shower," you murmur, locking eyes with him.

"Where else?" His voice is rough, all patience hanging by a thread.

"Office bathroom." This time, your gaze drops to his lips.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut for a second. "Jesus." He exhales a chuckle, fingers playing with his lower lip, a habit you’ve seen before, one he resorts to when deep in thought.

But there’s no strategy to devise here, no puzzle to solve.

So why is he doing it now?

To ground himself. To pull back from the edge you’re so effortlessly pushing him toward.

That knowledge alone fills you with satisfaction. And the fact that he’s still trying to maintain composure? Still trying to outplay you?

Heat pools between your thighs, a wave of want surging through you. 

You love this game.

You don’t miss it— the way his throat bobs, the way his jaw flexes, the way his hand curls into a fist at his side.

"So," he exhales, "How good do I fuck you, then? Slow? Rough? Do I make you beg for it?"

You bite back a smile, fingertips playing with the hem of his shirt.

"Want me to show you?"

Jungkook tilts his head, tongue flicking against his teeth. "By all means," he murmurs, fingers curling beneath your chin, thumb tracing your bottom lip, slowly. "Please bless me with a demonstration."

You don’t hesitate.

You part your lips and take his thumb into your mouth slowly. Your tongue swirls around it. Teasing, tasting. Then, without breaking eye contact, you take his index and middle fingers past your lips, sucking them in—deep, slow, sinful. Noisily.

He hisses. His breath stutters. His jaw clenches.

You keep your gaze locked onto his, peeking up through your lashes. You see his pupils darken, his lips part ever so slightly. 

"You’d start by eating me out," you murmur around his fingers, releasing them with a loud pop.

"And once you're satisfied making me cum on your tongue…" 

You guide his hand down, past your lips, to your throat, down to your chest, lower, lower— until his fingers skim the waistband of your pajama shorts. Down, down.

“You’d stretch me out using your fingers, making it nice and wet just so you can shove your cock inside me, rough and deep, exactly how I need it."

He exhales sharply and his grip on your thighs tightens. His head drops, eyes slipping shut. 

"Yeah?" His fingers press against your panties, feeling your soaked core. "Then spread those pretty legs open for me then, lemme feel how wet I make you.”

You spread your legs a little further, and he slid over your slit, collecting wetness on his fingers. 

"Fuck." His voice is barely a whisper, wrecked. “Dripping.”

Your hips grind, seeking more. "Only when I think of you fucking me."

That does it.

Jungkook rips his hand away—leaving you cold and aching—only to grab your waist and haul you onto the counter.

His mouth crashes onto yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, shoving his tongue.

Like a starved man.

It happens so fast, your brain barely catches up.

"Oh, god," he groans into your mouth, voice low and pained. His two fingers slide back into your throbbing cunt.

You must’ve been very, very wet because the sound of your slick echoes in the kitchen as he slides his fingers in and out of you.

His lips trail down your neck—biting, sucking, teasing—while you cling to him, fisting his collar, legs around his thighs, dragging him closer.

You feel it—the tight coil inside you, building, tightening, twisting. And he knows. The way you clench and tighten around his fingers, the way your breath stutters, the way your body arches like a fucking offering.

His thumb flicks your clit, before circling it with purpose.

Your legs tremble, and you can't help but let out a desperate moan against his ear.

“Please, YN,” he rasps, his forehead pressing to yours, dark eyes locked onto your fucked-out expression. “Soak my fingers, baby. Lemme hear you.”

His pace quickens, and you cum against his hand, chasing, grinding, taking everything he’s giving you.

The orgasm crashes through you, your walls squeezing, soaking his fingers as wrecked little moans spill from your lips—

So he covers your mouth with his hand.

“Like that, drip all over my fucking hand.”

He grinds against you, his cock heavy and straining through his pajamas, as he keeps his fingers buried inside you, pumping slow, dragging it out until you’re trembling, gasping, overstimulated.

Jungkook smirks, dragging his slick fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with his tongue.

“Sweeter than I imagined. Bet you taste even better on my tongue.” He groans, as he pulls his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. 

“You’ll show me, yeah? How I eat this pussy.” His fingers slide back between your thighs, lips curling against your jaw, breath hot as he presses a filthy kiss to your neck. “How I fuck you, how I make you cum with my cock?”

You nod, your head still spinning from the high. Just as you were about to meet his lips—

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Your heads snap toward the stairs.

Yoongi stands there, gaze unreadable.

There was a time when you were in love with Yoongi.

Actually, scratch that.

There was a time when you were in love with Yoongi.

There was a time when you thought you were in love with Yoongi.

Blame it on your father issues that any man who has provider vibes, keeps his word, and doesn’t raise his voice could make you fall in love as easily.

He radiated that quiet competence like he could fix your life while being gentle and that he knew what to do. 

So when you met him it was a no-brainer. You fell, and you fell hard.

The first time you met him at your first job post-college, he was this cold, quiet guy who looked like nothing could ever faze him. He was a senior in the office, and everyone held him in high regard for how he conducted himself��you know, competent, kept to himself. He barely smiled, rarely laughed—total ‘don’t talk to me unless it’s about work' vibes.

Your type.

But here’s the thing about Yoongi: the more time you spend with him, the more you start to notice the cracks. 

It started when you two often got teamed up for projects because you both consistently delivered solid results.

The way he’d smirk at your lame jokes when he thought you weren’t looking. How he’d quietly make sure you had everything you needed before a big presentation. How every time you’d screw up, he’d just shake his head while trying to hide a smirk, and say “it happens.”

It made you wonder what it took for someone to be that calm. How much chaos did he have to endure to become so gentle?

But those feelings weren’t nurtured. 

You were focused on chasing promotions, climbing up the corporate ladder in your sharp corporate OOTDs.

He was chasing some on-again, off-again college ex who was probably he had written songs or poems for. At first, hearing him talk about her felt like a stab to the heart. Stab and twist. 

You never really had the chance to confess to him. You’d been emotionally constipated for so long that expressing your feelings felt pathetic. So, you admired him from a distance and stayed grateful for his friendship.

Of course, you knew he saw you as a kid back then—fresh out of college, trying to navigate the concrete jungle of the corporate world, pretending you had it all figured out. Taking on heavy tasks fueled by sheer grit and unrelenting feminine rage. 

You always felt like you had something to prove. Every second of every day.

Just a bad habit drilled into you as a child, growing up in a suffocatingly traditional and overly religious household where women belonged in the kitchen and childbirth, while incompetent men labored under the illusion that they owned the world.

So you did the one thing they never saw coming—you used education to prove them wrong.

You showed them what excellence truly means.

And oh, you fucking did.

Summa cum laude. A job at a well-known company. Every achievement a middle finger to the system that tried to cage you.

You fucking did.

But at what cost? Nothing.

Excellence costs nothing.

Just anxiety, fear of failure, loneliness.

But Yoongi, for some reason, saw through you.

He silently looked after you, offering sound advice about your career and life, a quiet pillar of support when you needed it most. He never overstepped, never judged you for your mistakes. And he always acknowledged your strengths in that matter-of-fact way of his, like it was simply the truth.

And in return, you found yourself standing taller, speaking louder, growing more confident in how you faced the world.

Over time, you came to realize your feelings weren’t romantic.

Yes, you love Yoongi, but not in that way.

He was your safe space, the only male figure you felt secure with before meeting Jimin and Tae. To be truthful, he filled the void your father—or any other male figure in your life—never occupied.

Now, five seconds—maybe five minutes—of silence.

Because that’s what it feels like. 

Yoongi and Jungkook staring at each other.

You staring at the two of them.

One doesn’t have to be a genius to figure out what’s happening. Jungkook is standing between your legs, his mouth still hot against your neck, while you cling to him. Good thing your back is to the stairs—Yoongi can’t see where Jungkook’s hands are.

Not that you care about being seen. Your sex life is nobody’s business.

It’s just Yoongi.

But also… it’s Yoongi.

It’s like an older brother catching his best friend making out with his sister.

You jumped down from the table just as Jungkook jerked away, putting space between you.

“Hyung.” His voice is neutral, casual. But his eyes track Yoongi carefully.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything.

Just walks over to the sink, grabs a glass, and fills it with water. His movements are slow, but something feels off.

You can’t read him. Normally, you can. But now? His expression is different. He’s too…blank.

The sound of running water fills the silence as he fills a glass and takes a slow sip. 

“I was just getting water,” His tone is flat, almost dismissive. 

Then, without looking at either of you, he turns toward the stairs, glass still in hand.

He’s halfway up when he pauses.

And then—he looks at Jungkook.

“Couldn’t you at least pick somewhere private?” 

He is too calm and it’s weird.

“What’s private?” Jimin’s voice suddenly breaks through the tension as he climbs down the stairs, hair a mess, blinking sleepily.

Yoongi doesn’t even look at him. He just keeps walking upstairs, the sound of his footsteps fading.

Jimin glances between you and Jungkook, confused. “What was that?”

No one answers.

Jungkook finally looks at you, biting the ring on his lips.

Jimin sighs, completely oblivious. “Okay…? Anyway, do you guys know where the bucket is? Taehyung’s too wasted and puking his guts out. He also clogged the toilet, idiot.”

He’s still waiting, but the air feels too thick with something you don’t understand.

“I’m going back to sleep,” you mumble and rush upstairs.

The two don’t say anything, but you hear their voices fading into the background as you ascend.

When you reach your room, you shut the door behind you. 

You feel your soaked underwear between your legs, a reminder of everything that just happened as you press your back against the door.

What a weird fucking night.

Lord, grant me telepathy to unravel the enigma that is Min Yoongi’s head. Amen.

The next day was torture.

First, you learned the hard way that giant windows weren’t so fun when the midday sun was beaming directly into your sleep-deprived eyes, punishing you for last night’s… activities.

Second, someone was lying half on top of your blanket, effectively trapping you in a duvet like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

You wiggled free, jerking up with enough force to make your head spin, only to come face to face with—Taehyung.

His arm draped over his face, shielding himself from the sunlight.

Right on cue, Jimin pounded on the door, looking annoyingly fresh and showered.

"You two! Get up! We're going kayaking. Jungkook and Allie are already getting ready," he called through the door.

You glanced at Allie’s empty bed before turning to Taehyung. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

Taehyung groaned. "Clogged our toilet, used yours, then passed out here on my way back."

"You dumbass," Jimin sighed, arms crossed. "You were so wasted! Why did you even drink that much when you don’t drink?"

Taehyung let out another groan. “Ow, my head…”

"Come on," Jimin stretched out a hand to him. "Let’s get you some painkillers."

"I don’t think I wanna go." Taehyung whined. "I feel like dying."

"This was your idea, and we already paid for the kayaks!" Jimin yanked him up with a dramatic sigh, dragging him toward the door, before turning to you. 

"And you! Eat something then join us. You already bailed last night."

You exhaled heavily, checking your phone. 11 am.

Groaning, you forced yourself out of bed. You didn’t feel like doing anything today. But you also wanted to confront Yoongi. And maybe talk to Jungkook.

About what? You had no idea. You just hated unclear things.

You freshen up, and since you're still unsure of your plans for the morning—running or kayaking—you change into something comfy: an oversized hoodie and track shorts.

You make your way downstairs, and there he is.

Yoongi.

His back was to you, still in his pajamas—like he had just rolled out of bed and come down to eat.

Shoving the memory aside, you grabbed a bowl and milk from the fridge before sitting across from him. He was lazily picking at slices of watermelon from a container.

"Is it good?" you asked, pouring your cereal.

"Hmm," he just hummed. Classic Yoongi.

"You coming kayaking?" you asked, stirring your cereal.

He shrugged. "Nah. Kinda wanna finish a book." He flicked a seed off the fruit.

“Just say you hate water.” You chuckled. Then, you decided to rip the band-aid off.

"Wanna talk about last night?"

"Not really. Not my business."

"Okay… so, we’re good?"

He finally looked at you, brow raised. "What do you mean?"

"I don’t know, I was getting weird vibes from you last night," you admitted, chewing. "Which is weird because you never really cared about who I go out with or hook up with."

Silence.

 "Actually… I do wanna talk about last night."

You raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue.

"I wasn’t gonna say anything because it’s not my place," he continued slowly, obviously being careful in choosing his words. "But I care about Jungkook. He’s like a brother to me. And you…" He exhaled. "You’re family too. It’s just… weird, is all.”

"I’m family?" You rested your chin on your hand.

"You are." Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

You grinned. "Wow. That’s kinda sweet—"

"Don’t make it weird."

"You made it weird first," you pointed out.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What I meant was… it’s just weird is all. I never thought he’d be someone you’d…"

"Hook up with?" you finished for him, raising a brow.

He didn’t confirm or deny. He just pressed his lips together.

"Well, I guess he’s my type," you shrugged, going back to your cereal.

"YN, listen to me," Yoongi said, voice low. His eyes met yours, serious now. "Jin and I… we practically helped Namjoon raise Jungkook after their dad died. Jungkook was so young. He was hurt and angry. He acted out, fucked around."

You paused.

Yoongi never really talked about his friends like this. 

You knew bits and pieces, something about their vacations, what they did over weekends, silly things, and maybe some history about the past… but nothing at this level of depth. 

You realized… he was a private person. There was so much about him you didn’t know.

"Fucked around?" you asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

He shrugged, still careful of his words. "Just got self-destructive. Then got into fights. Ran with the wrong crowd. Slept around and left a trail of crying girls behind.”

You snorted. “Like I said, my type.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "I’m being serious."

"I know, I know." You waved a spoon at him. "Look, thanks for the heads-up. But you know I’m an adult, right? And that I know what I’m doing? Jungkook’s been good to me, he’s never been an asshole or anything."

Yoongi nodded, but his jaw flexed slightly. “I never said he wasn’t, man. He’s a good kid. Maybe better that most of us, probably why he took their dad’s death the hardest—too soft for this world. He just had a rep, that’s all. I know you’re capable of discernment, so I won’t overstep."

You chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

He just flashed you with his lopsided grin before he went back to his watermelon.

And you to your cereal.

And that was that.

A run seemed like the best way to clear your head, so you ditched kayaking with your friends despite their groans and protests.

The place was vast, giving you plenty of room to let your thoughts settle. 

Except, there was nothing to settle.

You had no thoughts, just the nagging feeling that something was off.

Later, after you showered and changed, you joined everyone at the cottage for an afternoon picnic.

The scene was lively—Yoongi and Jimin were manning the grill, Jungkook and Taehyung had just returned from the kitchen carrying a massive icebox filled with drinks, and you took a seat beside Allie to help peel eggs for sandwiches.

But every time you placed a freshly peeled egg into the container, Taehyung swooped in and popped it straight into his mouth.

"Taehyung, I swear, peel your own damn egg!" you snapped, swatting at his hand.

He barely reacted, but his eyes suddenly narrowed as he leaned in close. 

"Wait… what's that on your neck?"

Your fingers instinctively brushed over the skin just below your jaw. "What?"

A wicked grin stretched across Taehyung’s face. "Holy shit. Is that a hickey?" 

All heads turn to you.

You stilled, your fingers still ghosting over your neck. But you didn’t react beyond that. Taehyung thrived on even the smallest hint, and any sudden movement could make him sniff out the truth, and you weren’t about to give him that chance.

"Oh my god, it is! And it's fresh too! Who the hell were you with?” He continued, louder.

It wasn’t a big deal. 

So what if you and Jungkook made out—okay, so what if he made you come? Hard. With just his fingers. And yeah, it was good. Mind-numbingly, toe-curlingly, embarrassingly good.

And sure, you both obviously had the hots for each other. But that didn’t mean anything. Right?

“I knew it!” Taehyung clapped his hands together. “Yoongi? Finally? The ship has sailed!”

At that, you snapped your head toward him, eyes narrowing. “What? No!”

Unfortunately, you have now everyone’s attention. Thanks to Taehyung. The entire group turned to look between you and Yoongi, amused.

Jungkook remained unreadable.

Yoongi remained completely unbothered, simply flipping a skewer.

"Last night? Like… when I went downstairs last night?" Jimin repeated absentmindedly, his brows furrowing as he tried to piece things together.

"I knew something was up! I knew you'd eventually hook up!" Taehyung continued.

"Taehyung, shut up. We did not," you deadpanned. 

"Then who? Jimin?" He snorted. "Nah, not unless it was a drunken mistake." His eyes flickered to Jungkook for half a second, "Jungkook? Hmm. Possibly. But Yoongi? I’ve always known." 

Then he gasped. "Wait! Didn’t you used to have a crush on him?"

Jungkook shifted on his seat, as he popped open a can of beer with unnecessary force.

You turned to Yoongi, silently begging him to help you out, but he just shrugged as if to say “not my problem, kid”.

"Taehyung," you exhaled sharply. "Drop it."

Surprisingly, he did. He held up his hands in surrender but sing-songed. “Alright, whatever you say.”

The conversation moved on. The food was grilled. Drinks were passed around. Laughter filled the air.

But every now and then, you caught Jungkook’s gaze flickering toward you.

Unreadable.

And you told yourself there was nothing to read, nothing to talk about.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

taglist: @taekritimin123, @vantelover1306, @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @almatiarau, @kxthx-b, @lively-potter, @jk-190811, @ilovejungkook9999, @goldietigers294, @dreamyluna18, @va1-erie, @snow-strawberry, @lovieku, @daskewl @jksusawife @daskewl @pp0810 @cherryreadsfics @boyfriendtaekook @michuga @kchukes @ahgasegotarmy116 @michellekosmos @pitchblack0309 @hoseokteardrop @blueberriesm @jkslaugh97 @mysteriousgeminizone @jimintopiaaaa @marvelbun @rayyrayy10 @onlyoursol-ace @rkivesarchive

a/n: please lmk if i missed you, and as always, thank you for reading.

[yourlazykitkat]

Joel's celestial symbol being a car isn't complete crack and actually might be a good idea.

In Fast and Furious franchise, one of movies' climax have the characters strap jetpacks to a car which is strapped to a military aircraft in which two characters drive off and are sent into orbit. Yes this is thing that happens and yes, it somehow does perfectly capture the narrative of joel's victory and what it brings to the celestial symbolism.

I have never watched the fast and furious movies, all i know about this franchise is this scene and that it's about family and that's all you really need to know. But still, i shall yap.

The Fast and Furious movies are a perfect intertextual lens to view the Wild Life season and Joel's victory. The franchise has two highlights to it: the fucking spectacle and the interpersonal relationships. Did I enjoy the mechanics of wild life? Not particularly but I enjoyed the spectacle; the rush of I don't know what the fuck is going on but I'm here for the ride. Did I enjoy the storylines? There won't many clear and strong storylines this season as much as there were ever-resonating character beats that I ate up like it was the last supper. (JUST LIKE IN FAST AND FURIOUS)

Pearl and Scott reluctant allies and healing, BigB and Cleo healing, Etho's slut arc, Bamboozlers overcoming their character's persistent struggle with loneliness together, whatever the fuck treebark is doing, pearl picking her champion in impulse, grian losing his two wings. DESERT DUO DIVORCE ARC IS OVER? OMG DESERT DUO DIVORCE ARC IS BACK ON. Bad boys finally kill scott, shinyduo situtionship (going insane over them- i can't wait for more of them), tango and bdubz as angry wives and of course: The family.

Gem and Joel's alliance was the most stable alliance in the season. We made jokes about the 4Gs as they became the 5,6-7 Gs. They never knew who they truly could trust. Mumbo and skizz' paranoia might of been a joke but grian's curse did wipe them out in the end, martynn has forever ruined any trust in future alliances after limited life (especially given how he planned to betray ren in third life...) so i did not have any faith in treebark lasting. I don't need to explain tuff boys, etho was cheating on them to their faces and bamboozlers came close but any bamboozler fan will tell you how anxious they were that something would ruin a group. Look at Timmy on the high that he could finally win and break the curse, always running off carelessly. Scar, who was so desperate to win grian's favour that he was spilt between him and bamboozlers. Lizzie, who wanted to do anything but die alone but multiple times in the series, could not find her boys.

But gem and joel were always there for each other, their trust and love in the each other displayed for the whole server to see in the centre of the map (the most dangerous part). Not only did it help each other, they solidified so many other alliances that were shaky for so long (adopting grian when he's alone coz no one deserves to be alone, giving the Gs a common enemy to unite against, "we are bamily"). This perfectly encapsulates the fast and furious thematic core, we have no idea what' going on but we'll make our last stand together.

Very long-winded post, might come back later to fix it (i haven't had the chance to explore joel specifically and what this victory means for him) but even though it ruins the celestial aesthetic, the car for joel is so perfect. If u need it all celestial, the shooting star works pretty well in adjacent but it's so perfect for the wildest, most scuffed season to ruin the aesthetic of the life series BUT STILL BE THEMATICALLY COHERENT.

I have my complaints for this season and it did take me a while to decide how i wanted to approach the narrative of this season. Genuinely the more i think about it, the more i love the season.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt IV good omens but all i know is i watched three episodes on a stream with you all

Three hours being in a server with good omens fans in the wild *insert random emojis to sound like optimum clickbait youtuber except this ain't clickbait*

Okay I woke up. Before everything just WASHES out of my brain, I'm gonna describe whatever happened last night best as I can, because that's what I do.

Some of you were unable to attend the stream, and were sad. But don't worry I got you guys here's the rundown:

people joined the server. people were confused. i was afraid. i was assured that i should be, which was meant to comfort me.

people introduced themselves. someone said they had worked in a brothel as a bartender, which was cool, they said they had many stories. they did not elaborate for fear of scaring the newcomers. The newcomers, aka, me, were already scared, and it was not of the brothel stories.

I brought an emotional support orange with me. It looked uncomfortable. I thought it would be rotten. It was not, but we would not know that until later.

@thescholarlystrumpet entered fabulously, and started the stream.

i didn't realise the show had started for a good two minutes because there was a random voice over that was telling us about Earth's star sign (Libra) and somehow that didn't compute in my brain as being part of the episode. I thought we were checking audio.

It turned out, the episode had begun, and everyone was acting like this is a completely normal way for a show to start.

We time-jumped from the fall of man to modern day society so fast that I got whiplash.

There were a lot of orgasmic noises. I asked why. I was told in no uncertain terms that those were screams of labour. I'm sorry to everyone who has given birth ever.

There were three babies. I tried to keep track, it was hard. I thought the Antichrist won prizes for tropical fish. I was wrong.

I fell in love with Crowley and his hips and was very gay on the chat. This was heartily applauded.

I didn't realise an hour had passed when the episode ended, which it seemed was to be a common theme. I said nothing happened which everyone found funny for some reason.

I was very concerned about Armageddon. Everyone assured me that it would take place over the course of the season. I asked why we'd speedrun through millennia in five minutes but eight days took several episodes. I was a naive fool. Time is a social construct and this show cares not for social constructs.

They fucked up the mission. This was also to be a common theme.

I begged for a break and had to shake my head to try and get the brain rot out. I did not succeed.

The second episode commenced. The intro concerned me, because the cartoon Aziraphale looked pregnant or like a chicken. I asked if Crowley had impregnated him. He had not.

The pornography scene had to be replayed because I was so lost and had not relished it properly.

There was a lot of crying on the chat. Every few minutes someone would say a normal sentence in English and everyone would respond with crying emojis. Needless to say, I was concerned. This was also to be a common theme.

I asked why we were talking about random children. I was told it was The Them and they were the Antichrist's friends. I liked the hellhound.

I wanted to adopt the Antichrist, and grew more thirsty for Crowley every time he was a casual accessory to murder. I'm relying on this fandom not to use this as evidence with the cops. The chat was not reassuring, they said maybe.

I thirsted for Crowley more. This was also to be a common theme.

Aziraphale was very cute, I realised. That was nice. It was not nice when he had gay panic and said mean things to Crowley and they broke up. This was also to be a common theme.

I got so gay for Crowley that I ate the emotional support orange. It was gaseous. The chat was concerned, and everyone got excited every time oranges were mentioned after.

The third episode was a fucking roller coaster. Crowley and Aziraphale were your average high school couple but biblical for 6000 years.

Both were casual accessories to murder, and sometimes the cause of the murders, before going out for a date. Crowley got horny and he stopped listening every time Aziraphale ate. This was also to be a common theme.

The chat was keeping count of the husband breakups. This was not nice.

The Bentley was silver in many scenes, and people were forced to concede that they saw it. I was smug.

Crowley was sexy. She served gender, or as some people in the chat said, she served cunt. Her hairstyles got better and better. No one liked the 60s one. I did. I like everything she does. I love him.

Things happened. The fandom infected me. Someone mentioned how the book said Crowley felt lonely. I was near tears.

Crowley walked down the aisle for Aziraphale. We all were happy.

The book case, the thermos, the bandstand. I was broken.

Everyone said very emotional goodbyes.

I made a post on tumblr that was absolutely incomprehensible but accurately conveyed my love for Crowley. I fell asleep.

Same time next week, I believe.

I hope this was an adequate summary of the livestream for everyone, I am broken irreparably and if anyone mentions the bandstand I will have to start drinking and not stop till I get a happy ending. I cannot afford alcohol. I will ferment grapes myself if I have to.

[quiurifam]

╚»★«╝ 𝕁𝕠𝕙𝕟𝕟𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕆𝕟𝕖-𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥 ╚»★«╝

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒊𝒄

Johnny Cage(MK1) x fem reader

Warnings: NSFW; Fingering; Penetration; Nude pictures;

┈━═☆｡+ﾟ｡╚»★«╝ • • • • • • ╚»★«╝｡ﾟ+｡☆═━┈

It was your first day training for the grand ‘Mortal Kombat’, and honestly you couldn't believe what was happening, one day you were just a normal girl working as a server in Madam Bo's Teahouse and suddenly you and both of your best friends are called to compete on a tournament that could decide earthrealm's fate? That is… still quite difficult to absorb.

And if all that wasn't crazy already, when you were introduced to the other two guys who would be training with you, one of them was the Hollywood superstar boycrush of every fangirl ever Johnny Cage! You did your best to hold in the excitement when face to face with the star, acting as unfazed as you could. Going full fangirl mode in front of Lord Liu Kang and the serious looking swordsman Kenshi, was out of the question.

Only when your first day of training was over and you were able to finally talk alone with your best friends that you were able to express your enthusiasm, and you didn't waste a second.

“Oh my god, I cannot believe Johnny Cage is here!” You said walking alongside Raiden and Kung Lao “I never thought I would even see him in person and now we are fighting with him?!”

“Don't tell me you're one of his fans, that guy's ego was through the roof.” Kung Lao answered, sounding genuinely incredulous to think you're a Cage fan.

“Well, you also have a pretty high ego and I still like you.” You argued back “Besides, everyone knows famous people have big egos, it's kinda already expected.”

“Why didn't you say anything to him then? Could be your chance to get an autograph.” Raiden said.

“I don't know, I guess it just didn't feel like an appropriate moment to do so? I mean, we were just getting to know each other and all that talk about serious stuff.” Thinking for a second, you'd love to have his autograph and you should probably ask him for one. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. “But what could I even give him to sign? I left all my posters back home…”

“Maybe make him sign a piece of clothing? Or your arm and then take a photo?” Despite his aversion towards Johnny, Kung Lao was trying to be helpful. That's what best friends are for after all.

“Great idea! I'll ask him for one later!” And back it was your excitement, you truly felt like a teenage girl gossiping about her celebrity crushes. The boys couldn't help a small smile, laughing at your eagerness.

Later in the evening you had all gathered for dinner, once again you felt too awkward to ask something like that in front of everybody. Honestly it wasn't even about you being a fan, it was more because by the short amount of time you had spent in Johnny's presence you knew he was going to make it a show for the rest of the table. You already expected him to be quite smug and pompous being a Hollywood star and all, but he undoubtedly exceeded your expectations.

You ate your meal exchanging small talk with the rest of the table, specially with Raiden and Kung Lao. It was only the first day you had all met but by the way these guys could strike up a conversation you'd think otherwise, Lord Liu Kang would join the conversation here and there, only the ninjas were keeping quiet for the most part. You hadn't memorized their names yet.

After dinner you returned to your quarters, everyone would be doing the same, settling in for the night. It wasn't late and so there would be enough time for you to talk to Johnny and then come back to your room. It was just a quick trip, shouldn't take more than a few minutes, you'd ask Johnny for an autograph, get it, and then come back. Simple enough.

You took a quick shower before going, not wanting to show up in the uniform he had met you, trying to look more presentable. You considered stopping by Raiden's room for some courage talk as his was the closest room to yours, but ultimately decided against it, you couldn't risk getting late and having to wait a whole other day to talk alone with Johnny.

It didn't take long for you to find Johnny's door, you gave it a few knocks and heard a faint “One second!” sound behind it. You waited for Johnny to open the door and in just a short moment he did so.

“Oh hey, wasn't expecting to see you here.” He leaned on the door frame “What a pleasant surprise.”

He was more casually dressed, a few buttons of his shirt were undone, hair slightly messy and damp, it seems that he too had just taken a bath. Seeing the superstar so charming in front of you made you think that maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to stop for that hype talk with Raiden. He looked at you with that self-confident smile, almost a flirty look on his face.

“Hi, I just wanted to talk to you for a bit, if that's okay.” You said politely not wanting to bother the idol in case he was occupied.

“Getting a visit from a cute girl could never bother me honey, come in” He stepped aside giving you space to enter his room. “So? What do you wanna talk about?”

“Well, I didn't say anything before but I'm actually quite a fan of your movies.” You saw that prideful smile grow bigger “And I was wondering if maybe you could sign something for me?”

“An autograph? Sure can do sugar.” He extended his hand for a pen, which you gave to him, it was black marker you had lying around in a bag when packing to come to this place “I knew someone here had to have good taste. What do you want me to sign?”

“My arm please, I'll take a picture of it later” you held out your arm towards him.

“Alright.” He took your arm in one of his hands, the other holding the pen next to his mouth which he used to open said pen. Having your favorite actor so close to you was making you feel like the seconds were minutes, you just couldn't stop looking at him.

The way his hair would fall framing his face as he looked down at your arm, those undone buttons that were honestly tempting you right now, the grip of his hand on your wrist while he wrote his signature, those beautiful brown eyes looked so captivating when they weren't hidden behind shades. You were so lost in admiring Cage that your heart almost skipped a beat when his eyes locked onto yours.

“Hm. There you go.” He let go of your arm, but didn't move back.

“Thanks Johnny.” You said, a little embarrassed to be caught staring. Almost as you were about to leave Johnny stopped you, taking back hold of your arm.

“Looking back at it, I think it came out a little crooked, you wouldn't mind a re-do would you honey?” Was he flirting with you? You shook your head ‘no’ signaling him to go ahead “Great, now where should I write it this time? On your waist maybe?”

“Yeah.” The quickness in which that response came out made you cringe at yourself “It would make for a great photo.” You explained yourself to the actor, even though there was no need to. You were just so excited to spend time with your favorite actor.

“It sure would.” He didn't hesitate to agree with you, he kneeled in front of you lifting up your shirt just barely above the waistline “Hold it like that for me dear.”

The first touch of the pen on your waist made you shiver a little, and it didn't help when Johnny placed his other hand on your hip. He was teasing you, you were sure of it, his thumb pressing against your skin a little firmer than what was necessary.

“Oh, it seems this one came out a bit smudged, maybe the third time’s the charm?” He looked up at you, and by the gods this view was something you had only imagined in dreams, he was driving you crazy. You shook your head ‘yes’ not really trusting your brain to not say something dumb right now. Your mind was filled with filthy images and your face was getting hotter by the second. As bold as you wanted to be right now, would it really be intelligent to shoot your shot with a Hollywood star?

Johnny's hand lowered from your hips to your thigh, ready to leave his mark there too, he was grabbing it with such strength it was dizzying.

“Johnny…” You couldn't take his teasing anymore, and the smirk on his face told you that it was exactly what he wanted.

“Yes?” Feigning innocence in his voice he looked back at you, you gave him an impatient look, he couldn't possibly want to drag this on longer, he let go of the pen, seemingly satisfied that his teasing had worked. “Was it a bit much?” Even if the question seemed kind, you knew he was just trying to feed his own ego.

“Don't worry sugar, I know how to treat my fans well.” He said back to his smug tone, one of his hands slided up and down your thigh and the other moved to your hip, holding you firmly “You just have to ask.”

This was your chance to sleep with your favorite celebrity, swallowing down your shame you answered “Please Johnny.”

“That's what I like to hear.” He got up and brought you closer to him by the hips, one of his hands dipping lower to grab at your ass “Had my eye on you the whole day sweet thing.” He didn't even give you time to respond as he took your mouth on his, the kiss was filled with lust and you were doing your best to accompany him on his pace, he didn't want to take things slow, biting your lower lip and pressing his tongue against it. The hand on your ass gave it a rough squeeze, making you moan, he took the opportunity for his tongue to enter your mouth.

The kiss was inebriating, you've never felt so hot before, as your tongues met even Johnny couldn't help himself on a few breathy sounds. Soon you had to part to take a breath, you looked at him, that hungry look on his face was something you wish to remember forever, his lips parted and glistening with saliva.

“Come on” He took you to his bedroom, and as soon as you were inside he didn't waste a second continuing what you two had just started, as you kissed he started slowly pushing you towards his bed. You cut off the kiss, eager to take things further with the actor, you began taking your shirt off, Johnny just gazed at you, admiring the sight in front of him. It had been a while since the last time he had been with a fan, and honestly he was in need of releasing some pent-up energy lately.

He laid you on his bed, climbing on top of you, his mouth going straight to your neck while his hand cupped your breast. As he bit and sucked on your neck you couldn't help the sounds coming out of your mouth, he lowered his head to your collarbones and you grabbed at his hair. When he was satisfied with his work on your skin he leaned back.

“Goddamn, you look incredible.” He started to unbutton the rest of his shirt, throwing it somewhere on the ground.

“You don't look so bad yourself.” You decided to tease the actor back even if came out a little breathy. From this angle you got quite the view from Johnny, especially the way his hardened dick marked his pants “Don't make me wait longer Cage.” You gave him your best pleading eyes.

He leaned back down kissing you again, one of his arms beside your head supporting his weight, the other hand dipped under your shorts and panties, he slided two fingers up and down your pussy folds, feeling how wet you were, your kiss engulfed the pleased sound he made and your moans. He started to toy with your clit, rubbing it lightly, still teasing you. not having the patience to tease you much he didn't make a show of it and just let one of his fingers dip into your pussy, the sudden action caught you off guard and a very embarrassing whine slipped from your lips. Johnny was having his fun, pumping his finger in and out, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“You're so wet for me, really my number one fan huh?” He didn't waste a second in adding a second finger, too turned on to wait properly. You couldn't care either, just wanting him to fuck you already.

“Yes!” You cried out as his fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot. He picked up his pace, his eyes glued to your face, loving your lewd expression. Pressing over and over that spot, wanting to make you lose yourself. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your hand instinctively holding onto his arm “Cage!” your cunt clenched on his fingers, making him groan.

“Can't wait to feel that on my cock.” He roughly whispered next to your ear. You moaned at his words, finally reaching your orgasm and coating his fingers with your cum. Your breath was still shaky as he took his fingers out and pressed them against your lips “Open.” You opened your lips letting his fingers enter your mouth, you sucked them clean of your own mess and when Johnny was satisfied he pulled them out.

“You alright sugar?” He leaned back, unzipping his pants. You were hypnotized by the sight of Johnny pulling out his cock, almost forgetting to answer him. He pulled out your shorts and underwear leaving you completely bare to the actor.

“Yeah…” You were breathless but still able to push the word out. He leaned back down placing his hands beside you head, you took the opportunity to interlock your legs behind his hips, bringing his waist closer to yours.

“Eager I see.” He laughed at your actions, feeling amusement at your urgency to have sex with him, his face got closer to yours, lips barely touching one another “So sweet. Might have to taste more of you next time.” You couldn't wait a second more, catching his hair in your hand and pushing your lips against his, taking charge of the kiss, it was hungry and untamed. You were truly living your biggest sex fantasy and did not plan to hold back, the sounds coming from Johnny's mouth were also an incentive for you to continue exploring his mouth with your tongue. So focused on tugging on his hair and making him moan you didn't even realize he had reached down to line up his dick with your entrance, only noticing it when you felt his head passing through your folds.

The sinful sounds coming from the bedroom only doubled as he entered your wet cunt. Separating the kiss for a moment to catch your breaths, you both enjoyed the feeling of each other's body.

“Is it just like you dreamed of sugar?” Even if he still had that cocky look on his face his words were coming out of breath. He started moving, firstly at a slow pace, giving an easy start.

“Oh it's better Johnny.” You couldn't pretend to care about not raising the actor's ego, he already knew he was good and denying it was not going to make him believe any less.

His thick cock was filling you so good you've never felt so full before, dragging in and out of your cunt in a way it was driving you crazy, you wanted, no needed more. It was overwhelmingly hot and sweaty the feeling of his body moving against yours, putting your hands on his back you tried to pull him closer for more of that skin on skin action. He granted your wish practically gluing his abdomen with yours, feeling your bare tits pressed firmly against his pectoral making him lightheaded with lust.

“Faster Johnny please!” He didn't hesitate in listening to your cries pumping his cock as deep and fast as he could, mind so blown over with arousal he would do anything you asked if it meant he could cum on you. His mouth, for the second time this night, found its place on your neck but quite rougher this time. His biting and sucking was vulgar and if you were more coherent at this moment you'd realize you had no way to cover this up tomorrow.

As your sounds got more trembly and your words more muddled Johnny brought his thumb to your clit, handling it as roughly as his kisses, determined to make you cum on his cock. It was fervent and you were completely intoxicated with him, feeling it was all too much. It didn't take much for you to reach your high, the biting, the weight on top of you, the pounding of his cock and bullying of his thumb against your clit making easy work of the job. You screamed his name as you pussy clenched around his dick and creamed all over him, your nails digging on his back.

“God you're gonna kill me doll.” His words came out strained, trying to hold back his own orgasm. He gave a few more pushes of his cock before taking it out and pumping it with his hand, he groaned loudly as his load coated your hips and waist, painting your body beautifully. You were still catching up your breath when he got up, quickly grabbing something on his bedside table and the floor.

“Now we can get the perfect shot for that autograph photo you wanted.” You saw his phone on one of his hands and your panties on the other, he threw your underwear for you to put it on while he climbed on the bed again.

You quickly put it back on and he got the phone close to your waist, snapping a picture of your hips marked with his signature and his cum. He took the opportunity to put his hand on the side of your hip and take another one, having fun with his little photography project. You leaned up sitting on his bed, he took your chin giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“There you go, now just wait a second I'll get us something to drink.” You nodded, your throat dry and your voice hoarse after all that.

When he was back he gave you your glass of water and a towel to clean yourself, your panties were already ruined with both your and his cum but it was nice to clean yourself up anyways.

When getting dressed Johnny opted to just stay in his boxers and a loosely tied robe, he looked so good it made you want to spend the rest of the night in his bedroom, but it was late and you didn't want to risk getting caught leaving his quarters so late at night.

“I'll see you around Johnny.” You said your goodbye to him as you walked out his front door.

“Oh we'll definitely be seeing each other honey.” He pulled for a quick kiss one last time for the night. Now you were really starting to feel like you were in some kind of romance movie. You returned to your room, giddy and still quite incredulous at what just had happened, sure your dreams were going to be heavenly tonight.

[hmshermitcraft]

Pearl, Etho, and Tango’s relationship started with the two men under the impression that all three of them were dating already while Pearl thought she was just hopelessly crushing on her fellow postal employees who were in a relationship.

Their communication probably could have been better but in Tango’s defense, he did literally refer to the fact that he and Pearl ate lunch together every day as “dates” to her face and she did end all of them with kissing him on the cheek or forehead. And in Etho’s defense, him and Pearl had taken up cuddling after they were done practicing for The Club That They Can’t Talk About, her face pressed up into his neck and his arms wrapped around her tightly, still breathing heavily from their dance with death. They thought it was pretty obvious that Pearl was their girlfriend. They hadn’t kissed her yet, sure, but maybe she just wasn’t all that into kissing. So much of what they did was touchy in other ways, casual clinging and cuddling and gentle touches, that maybe she just didn’t like that particular thing all that much. Most of the server had figured it out as well, and they took the way Pearl seemed to turn bright red at the mention of her ‘boyfriends’ to just mean that she was shy about it.

Needless to say, when Tango finally kissed Pearl on the lips at the end of lunch one day. It had been a particularly stressful day, and Tango had a habit of clinging close to her when he could tell she stressed. All morning he had stuck to his desk in the Post Office proper, occasionally reaching over to rub her shoulder while she did paper work or offer encouraging words while she painstakingly made new stamps (hand painted!). It wasn’t some grand gesture. She went to kiss him on the cheek as usual, and instead he turned his face to give her a proper kiss. A few seconds later he broke it off and with a “Keep it up, Pearlie. I love you,” and he was on his way to find Etho in the nether to do maintenance. Pearl thought she was about to be the reason her friends broke up. She was so shocked she couldn’t even say anything to Tango, just touched her mouth in disbelief like the kiss could go away at any second while he went back to his work.

Pearl hated it. She loved it. She had been crushing on Tango all season, yes, but she didn’t want this at the expense of Etho! She needed to tell Etho, she knew that. If he chose to break up with Tango over this it would be devastating for both of them, but it should be his choice.

So she invited Etho over to the brawlroom and after a couple of rounds (both of which he won, she felt bad going full tilt knowing what she was about to tell him), she sat Etho down in their score room and just said it.

“Tango kissed me today,” Her voice trembled slightly, her eyes locked on Etho’s. He just titled his head, looking for all the world like he was confused. “Like, on the mouth,”

“Oh, are you okay with that now? If not, we can talk to him,” Etho pulled down his mask to get a sip of water, casually, as if Pearl hadn’t just told him his boyfriend had kissed someone else. And wait. What?

“Okay with it? He’s your boyfriend?” It was Pearl’s turn to look very confused. Etho just shrugged, perplexing her further.

“He’s yours too, I know we don’t normally do the whole ‘polycule chat’ thing but if kissing is a boundary we want to respect it,” He looked so serious and so awkward and out of his depth that Pearl couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Sorry, what? Are we a polycule?” Etho’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t know?!?”

Needless to say, Etho and Tango did not break up. And Pearl got a lot of quality boyfriend time in compensation now that she actually KNEW they were dating. She could have been kissing them this whole time!

They really, really should have done more polycule chats. It's an impressive level of obliviousness by all parties involved and something they're going to laugh about for some time.

[wine-sluts]

Figured I'd hop on and say it. @bungoustraypups You're right. I am one of the people behind the wave of anon hate you've been recieving. Because I love hating on pedophile apologist swine like yourself. So let's get into it. Publicly, cause here you don't have the power to delete my messages.

So genuinely crazy I got banned from man's server for trying to talk about how Bungo Stray Dogs represents current world politics with how the boss' mind was deteriorating, and I was going to talk about how that was kind of similair to the one woman who's in the US parliament who was found in the dementia ward. And how once your brain deteriorates to a certain degree you should not have decisions over people's lives. Saying I was baiting him because I vibed to "Not like Us" at the superbowl.

If hating on child predators makes you icky, if you don't like music where we bash a man who sexualizes teenagers. If you accuse me of baiting you because I was trying to start an actual conversation that wasn't a part of your universe where you age up children to breed them. I think you need to do some evaluation. Because yes, you do have circles that hate you, you do have circles that loathe you. Because you're a weird fucking person. Because you're incapable of having a conversation without using your power to ban and delete and to hide behind a screen. I'm only sending this here because you blocked me and didn't let me finish what I was saying.

"You think I'm dumb" Yes I do, you paranoid schitzo fuck. You're a disgusting human being who's incapable of coherent thought. "A specific breed of people" Wdym by that? People who openly hate pedophilia? People who openly hate a character because they're uncomfortable seeing a little girl be sexualized? Gee, I wonder why.

I do hate you, I hate you to your core, I hate most of the things you stand for. This isn't because you enjoy Mori as a character, this is because you talk a weird amount about pregnancy when it's confirmed you have a fetish in servers with minors. This is because you bulldoze over what people are saying. This is because you pinged me among hundreds of other people on discord for handouts to keep your fucking spotify and nitro going because you can't be bothered to get a job. This is because you went on a rant about how teen pregnancy is fine. This is because you don't think writing minors having sex, as a fucking adult, is weird. This is because you don't think lolicon is a loophole for people to legally enjoy pedophilia. I have proof, I have people who also witnessed this. And I hope you grow the fuck up. I do. Get a job, stop writing characters breeding for hours and see the sun, make a life for yourself. Because you're not going to find any sympathy from me until you do. I enjoy the hate you're receiving. And I am capable of hating on you so much more. I stopped having even a smidge of neutrality towards you the day you admitted to hundreds of people without shame that you support people who partake in loli and shota without shame, with your whole chest. And one day I hope the kids who have the misfortune of admiring you see the same shit. I know you DM minors, those kids have come to me and told me. Are you going to call them liars? Are you going to deny all of this when the proof is there for hundreds to see. Pregnancy has been talked about 675 times in your server in the SFW chats, and while I know it isn't anything directly disgusting I know for a fact you're exposing minors to your fetish. And it's not right, quite frankly you should be ashamed. None of these words are in the bible, but that's probably because you ate it. This isn't just anon hate anymore, this is me saying it with my chest for everyone to see.

[6feathered6siren6]

Matching Skin(Ronin x V X Reader)

Notes: For the prompt soulmates. I struggled getting this one out but I hope you enjoy it!

────୨ৎ────

Soulmates.

You heard tales from your parents and everyone around, the moment you turned 18, words would be written on your skin. Ones from your soulmate. 

And that you can reply back.

You always thought you won’t get one, relationships in your life were bitter and messy. You figured, it was not for you. You weren’t a good partner, maybe, not a good soulmate. 

And the moment's countdown, you were about 18 in 2 minutes. Would they write something? Like do both of you turn 18 on the same day? Or was it a feeling? 

Only a minute awaits, you stare at the clock as it ticks. It was getting closer and closer. You, somehow, feel hope. Can it be true that you love someone? A soulmate?

DING! DING!

Your father’s grandfather clock alarms you from your mindset. You run to your bathroom and look in the mirror. The hope, the anticipation… turned… sour. Maybe later? Maybe when your birthday is done. Right? 

Your parents said it happened just on their birthday, maybe it happens at noon or… something…

જ⁀➴ ♡

It was a week after your birthday, no letter, no word. Nothing was on your skin. 

🖇

It’s been a year. 19. Not a trace of a letter. You honestly gave up. There are tales when a soulmate died before they turned 18. Maybe… you were an unlucky person with a dead soulmate. You just allowed it to happen, allow the other to write to you. 

And got nothing.

➤─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

You’re 23 now. A lost soulmate, a term of the people who lost their soulmate. Sure, your life was missing romantic love, but you had everything you needed. A job you loved doing, friends who didn’t care about soulmates or even dating. 

You were having another day, got off of work, ate some dinner with a coworker, then on the way home. For some reason, you feel really positive. You could hear the crunch in the leaves. It is autumn now. You enjoyed the cooler air instead of the blazing heat or the icy winter wonderland. You could smell the cinnamon from the coffee shop you just passed. You saw the flowers blooming inside the flower shop. You were fond of the red roses this time around. Not the cyclamen or marigolds. 

Your night was going amazing in your opinion. Until… you were about to take a shower. When you saw your skin, a message. 

‘Fuck you, R.’ in a dark green ink, then a weirdly drawn middle finger in dark red ink. You… you had a soulmate, and didn’t know until now. 

How?!

You watch as another message appears, in the same dark green pen, ‘You are so childish.’

You had two.

You felt your hand go through your hair. How? How did you miss it? How did you not see their messages? How did you miss it? 

When you thought about it, you never looked much at your body, not on your skin. You were afraid of it. The reality about it… And now… you didn’t have one… you had two. One you knew a letter about, ‘R’. 

But then you realized… you basically ignored them… you couldn’t just invite yourself in. They only think they have each other. You… didn’t want to bother them. 

You took a shower with a mindset in mind. You weren’t gonna contact them. Not now or ever… you couldn’t. Not after ignoring your own skin.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

You were researching for soulmates before your passion project. 3 soulmates linked. Well, from everything you can find, it is possible, there are traces of them even before the research of soulmates became of matter. 

Looking back at your arm, it seems the owner of the green ink washed it off to write another message, ‘Don’t be irrational, or I will catch you.’

Catch you? Are they playing some kind of game? Tag? You rolled your eyes, leaving soulmates for another day, covering your arm with your sleeve. Maybe working on your novel can get your mind away from it. 

๋࣭ ⭑⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆๋࣭ ⭑

It was December, you somehow joined a server of killers. Cool… kinda… if you aren’t fearing them killing you… But surprisingly, two catches your eye, K9 and goreboy. You didn’t know what was up with it, but… you actually caught feelings. Maybe… you can fall in love with someone who isn’t your soulmates. 

Sure, V thinks you’re a killer and Ronin thinks you’re not. But it brings you ideas. A lost soulmate in love with a pair, a soulmate duo. But the duo are killers on the opposite side of justice. 3 opposite people from each other but complement each other well.

You remember when Misaki pulled you into a voice call, telling you some of the server history and how it is. Ronin and V have this tension to them, that people think they might be dating, but no one knows. Angel maybe but to them, that's a story for you to find out. 

It was after Vince’s christmas dinner, you pondered as Ronin invited you to a video call. It was near 1 in the morning, you were doing some late night writing. So what would he want now?

“Staying up so late, Darlin’?” His arms were behind his head. His smile was wide as well. A grin. You nod as you stretch, “Yeah, working on something.” You yawned as you grabbed your drink nearby. “Why are you up this late? Killing someone, Ronin?” 

“Nah, just was pissing off V, thought it would be your turn now.” You see his chair turning back and forth on his video. 

“How generous. I feel the love radiating off of you.” You snarked back. 

“Y’know it.” He snickered. “So got a question for you, Mx. enigma.”

You raised your eyebrow as you rested your head into your hands. “And that is?”

“V wants you to hang out with us, so would you join our game?” His grin of mischief was on. Your stomach twisted as your heart seemed to flutter. “It would be fun for us.” 

You looked at the time, you aren’t working tomorrow so it should be fine. “Alright. I’ll join.”

“Sweet, Darlin’, one moment and we killin’ tonight.” He said before he ended the video call. You rolled your eyes as you smiled. Classic Ronin. 

Waiting for the male now, you got back to your other tab, your novel. You paused wanting to take a break from it and go back to your ‘other side project’. 

Soulmates. Sure, you’re never gonna interact with them, the ones with skin that are in sync with yours. Like you don’t want to harm the other two, it is your fault about this… And you like Ronin and V, nothing more. 

Looking into a website a friend recommended to you, a detail spoke loudly to you. ‘Soulmates and fate are intertwined, you will see or meet your soulmate sometime in your life. You might never know. Even then, it’s been recorded that soulmates knew each other but never knew they were soulmates.’

You, V, and Ronin soulmates? You smiled as you shook your head. That’s a fucking joke to you. Yeah, right. 

The iconic ‘ping!’ alarms you out of your thoughts. 

goreboy: in Vc

goreboy: hurry Up he’s started to Monologue Again

Making you laugh, it means V is ranting at Ronin’s murders again and how he is gonna capture him. You might have to save Ronin from boredom. 

Entering the call, you hear V’s rant. You stayed quiet listening in for a few moments, and the moment he paused. Ronin finally spoke up, “Welcome to the shitshow, Darlin’”

“Hey, so what are the both of you doing up so late?” 

“Well, I was pissing off V again and he-” Ronin was interrupted by V.

“Annoying me with his murders, actually. And trying to tell him that he shouldn’t kill almost everyone he meets.” V sounded tired of dealing with Ronin alone. A bit of dark red caught your eye. ‘R’ was writing something again. 

‘y’know you Love me’ 

You covered your arm with your sleeve. You didn’t want a reminder as you talk to these two. “Sounds like a night for the both of you…” You tried to mask that something was wrong and somehow, you succeeded. They didn’t catch it. 

“A stressful night, but how is your evening, Reader? Hopefully better than mine.” Which makes you snicker. 

“I’m good, just working on a passion project.” 

The rest of the night went smoothly, spending an hour talking to them, ranging in topics of murder to seeing Ronin and V fighting again. You are starting to understand why Misaki said about their tension. And now even you are questioning if they are dating. 

Well, after leaving the call, you see another message but in green now. ‘Why do this to them, R? They don’t seem interested.’

‘Don’t worry your pretty little detective brain, you’ll see.’ Red. 

Something must have happened to get Green to question R, did R get into a fight again? Green does get lengthy on them when they do.

Sighing, you wanted to pick up a pen, but you still couldn’t do that to them. You looked out of the window and saw the stars. Wishing life was easier. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

February. The month of love. Usually, you were able to ignore, like you didn’t know that you have 2 soulmates. Now… it’s just worse. Feeling like water is filling up in a room with you locked inside. Deciding to not wallow in your place, you took a walk while it was night. It was calming and you really needed it. Fresh air and calmness was what you needed. The street lights brightened your way as you walked. Peaceful, not much sounds other than the cars passing by. 

Reaching upon a ledge with railing, leaning on it, you stare at the view. Looking at the stars above you again, it looked pretty. If you didn’t mess up, would this be different?

“Reader? Is that you?” You know that voice. You turn your head and see V. Was he hunting?

“Yeah, it’s me.” You looked back to the view. You didn’t want to talk to him. It was near midnight, and tomorrow was Valentine's Day. You didn’t want to take another’s soulmate away from them. 

“Why are you out this late? Thought you would be at home with that project of yours.” He seems to walk closer and look at what you were looking for a moment. Then he looks back at you. 

“Needed a break and fresh air…” You paused, you also needed to get away from the place you felt trapped at. 

“I see. Well, I hope you are fine with me keeping you company.” He walked a bit away and sat on the bench just a few steps away. You looked at him again before taking his lead and sat next to him. It was quiet, but the air was filled with a soft atmosphere. Relaxing even. “You know Reader, Ronin was worried for you. I am as well.” 

You stilled before whipping your head to look at him with a shocked look. Blinking a couple times, you didn’t know what to say.

It leaves V chuckling, “Both Ronin and I care about you. Ronin has his own way of showing it. Bloody at times as well. But you haven’t spoken in the server in a while. And you skipped the last two mafia games, it doesn’t feel fun without you.” 

You stared at him then smiled. A couple soundless laughs left your mouth. “I… I wasn’t feeling well and needed to be myself for a while.”

V was about to speak again when, “There was a party and I wasn’t invited? How rude of you?” It was the self-claimed devil himself. 

“Thank you for ruining a moment, Ronin.” V looked annoyed as Ronin leaned onto the back of the bench, looking down at you. He had his iconic smile. 

“You are very welcome. Now, Darlin’, it’s nice to see you, flesh and bones.” V sighed as rolled his eyes. He was shaking his head with annoyance. 

“Nice seeing you both. In person and not on a screen, I mean.” You continued to have a smile on your face. It felt like this was right. To be with both of them. You tuned out the mini argument, looking back at the night sky. Ignoring that righteous feeling, you look back at the males bickering or flirting. You still didn’t know but… you wanted to stay with them. 

Ronin, jumping over the back of the bench to sit between you and V. Putting arms around the both of you and V. “Now, let’s have a real party, a murder party.” 

You guys didn’t murder anyone, all you guys did was walk around talking. And by the time you got home, you just wanted to go back and talk to them. They have different soulmates, that soulmate was not you. 

You really need to stop on this soulmate bullshit…

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

You woke up and it was 5 hours before Valentine's day was over. You were on your bed, just staring at your computer. Do you want to talk to the group? Or to just stay away again?

Looking at your arm, there was a message. A place and time. In red. And dread fills in. 

‘Done waiting for this K

Other soulmate, come to this (place) at midnight. I’m done waiting for you to write something.’

They knew. How?

Do you.. go.? 

Looking out at the night sky, you like Ronin and V. You like V with his acts of kindness and making sure you are fine, how he can keep you calm as well. Ronin is a man who creates chaos, making anything fun. Keeping you guessing when V was in the call as well. 

You made a decision. 

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Walking to the location, it was near one of your favorite cafes. You grabbed drinks there on Valentines with V and Ronin. V paid for all three of your drinks, and Ronin made sure to keep your mouth shut when he did. Only to solidify your decision. 

“Darlin’? Walking around at night again?” Turning your head and you saw it was Ronin. He wasn’t wearing his iconic jacket. You could see the words that matched your own. You felt your heart drop. Your eyes blurred as you felt your body tense up. “Darlin’?” You felt hands on your arms, holding you up, it felt like they were burning you. 

“I… F- fuck…” Your words weren’t even above a whisper. “You’re my…” You looked up at the male in front of you. You released a breath as you spoke. “You’re my soulmate.”

Ronin snorted before laughing. “Took you this long to realize it? Thought you were playing games with us.” He moved a bit to show V was nearby. 

“You both knew…” You felt like throwing up, all the hints were there. 

“And we thought you knew as well, and thought you prefer not to write on your skin. We did try reaching out before you joined the server but never got a response from you. We first thought you died, but then we randomly got ink on our arms. Neither one of us caused it, and we knew.” 

“And found out it was you on a video call. My video call, Darlin’.” V rolled his eyes as he looked at you with that similar gaze from earlier. 

“You… are my soulmates. And you’re not mad?” You started. “I ignored it, I ignored my skin, ignored the messages. I…” 

“You most likely have a reason. And that could be talked about later, but Ronin here wants to take you out for dinner, and I agreed after losing a game with him. So please indulge him.” 

Ronin lets you go, as you could stand by yourself, to put his arm around V’s shoulder. “Like you also didn’t want to do this. Now, let's grab some food. I am starving.” 

You stared at your soulmates, before smiling. You were gonna tell your soulmates that you liked someone else. But you didn’t have to. V grabbed your hand and started pulling you as they walked. Maybe this soulmate thing wasn’t a lie. It was fate, and you were definitely played with.

[slut4celebs]

Collision Course

Gracie Abrams x Soccer!Reader

Word Count: 1,110

Trigger Warning: N/A

Synopsis/Request: I would say that this was just a long blurb of headcanons based on this request: "can i request something for gracie like maybe soccer player reader x gracie" I will be very honest and say I'm not much of a soccer girlie, but I tried my very best. I love you!

If you're looking to make any fic requests, please drop them here.

Quick Ad: If you're over the age of 18, and looking for a fun and welcoming roleplay server consider Kennedy University. This is an OC-only server based on a fictional university in Dallas. Here you can roleplay as the students, professors, and even teacher aids. We want YOU to join us. :)

Every day, people come into our lives and change the course of our realities. For (Y/n), it was Gracie. She met her at a party hosted by one of her UCLA soccer teammates. The craziest part about going to any UCLA party is that there is always a chance a celebrity or child of a celebrity will be there. Gracie Abrams was both. As the daughter of JJ Abrams and an up-and-coming singer, she was one of the “VIP guests.” Out of everyone at the party she could’ve chosen to speak to, however; she chose (Y/n). The freshest face of UCLA soccer team, a new starter that no one knew too well yet as the school year just began.

When imagining her life three years later, (Y/n) only imagined her senior year filled with stressful classes to be finished and last games to be played. What wasn’t originally in her deck of cards designated for her future was living with a beautiful girl she would call her girlfriend while being actively scouted and training for the US Olympics Women’s Soccer Team, but here she was; doing all of those things. If it wasn’t for her beautiful girlfriend, Gracie, she would’ve been completely burnt out. However, Gracie was the kind of girlfriend who helped keep her organized and made sure she ate three meals a day while getting the proper water intake. She even slipped daily protein bars in (Y/n)’s book bag and gym bag, which she always appreciated.

In a sense, Gracie Abrams wasn’t just (Y/n)’s amazing and talented girlfriend, she had made herself (Y/n)’s watergirl, cheerleader, and biggest supporter (and occasionally, nurse). Vice versa, (Y/n) was Gracie’s biggest supporter, attending every concert and traveling with her any chance she could. (Y/n) made sure Gracie drank water, ate food, practiced her vocal rest and warmups before and in-between shows.

They wouldn’t say their relationship was easy. In fact, at times, it could be really difficult. With their schedules not always on the same path, leaving them separated more often than they would like. Additionally, being in a public relationship made everything a little harder. They were constantly being picked on and prodded about their relationship, whether they were on or off, which they always made it a point to say they were still together without divulging too many private details that were just not the reporters’ business.

Despite the consistent pressure, their collision course towards each other was no mere accident, and the two of them came to learn that. They were fated to be together. Destined to be in each other’s life, cheering each other on from the crowd. Gracie, in (Y/n)’s jersey, making sure to show all the love and support she could. Gracie wearing (Y/n)’s number on her cheeks, cheering the loudest on the sidelines. (Y/n) wearing all of Gracie’s merch, sharing all of her songs. (Y/n) with her unlimited praise and compliments. The both of them make sure to send good morning and goodnight texts on busy days, with ‘I love you’s, making sure that they both know they’re thinking about each other, even though they can’t talk.

The acts of service shared between the two are very important to each other. It doesn’t end on the little texts or selfies when they can’t talk. It doesn’t end when they’re cheering each other on during games and shows. It extended far beyond that for them, into their home life. They make sure to provide constant support for each other at home and away from home.

For starters, on game days, Gracie will prepare protein heavy meals for (Y/n). Eggs, turkey bacon, and avocado toast. Then, she will fill her water bottle. She will make sure to double check her girlfriend’s jersey is cleaned and that her cleats are in her gym bag. On concert days, (Y/n) will make sure that Gracie has a quiet morning that starts off with some tea, yogurt with berries, and some water for when the tea is finished. She will make sure that Gracie’s day goes as smoothly as possible.

Gracie will be the first to admit that dating a soccer player isn’t the easiest task. Mostly because of all the bumps and bruises that (Y/n) comes home with. This means that she is always prepared for first aid, kits being in her purse, car, and in their apartment. It doesn’t help that (Y/n) is generally a very clumsy person. This means that she often comes home with scraped knees just from a jog. However, a plus for Gracie would be how toned her girlfriend is. (Y/n) does a lot of weight training with the team, and Gracie is in love with her strength. Another plus, she genuinely enjoys watching her girlfriend play soccer, the giant grin on her face when she kicks a goal, the way she’ll look into the crowd, for Gracie, and blow her kisses.

As for (Y/n), the biggest struggle for dating a singer were the fans, unfortunately. They were amazing and she loved them, but some took it too far. The hate comments always got to her, but she tried not to discuss it too much with Gracie. However, the brown-eyed girl wasn’t blind and could see how they affected her girlfriend. (Y/n) wouldn’t give up Gracie for anything though. She loved that Gracie was following her passions. She loved the excitement on Gracie’s face after she writes a song and shows her. Not to mention, the way her girlfriend absolutely lights up on stage. It’s magical to (Y/n), and she could get lost in the girl’s grin as she performs. 

(Y/n) and Gracie collided together and they formed a bond in the universe, sharing one galaxy full of the stars they created. Despite all of the outside noise and commotion, they were lost in their own universe. They were made for each other, fated and destined to be together. (Y/n) knew this to be true because every time Gracie looked at her, she could only see the stars in her eyes and the way that every time they touched, it felt like it was only them in their own space. They had far surpassed any basic form of love, falling deeply into each other, being absolutely enamored in each other. They were in love, and nothing could or would ever change that. They had crashed into each other way too hard for anyone to ruin that for them.

[monetmightexist]

Whoever was speaking in that video first recited "In the Desert" by Stephen Crane:

In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial,  Who, squatting upon the ground,  Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it. I said, “Is it good, friend?” “It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;  “But I like it “Because it is bitter, “And because it is my heart.”

This was repeated in a round of sorts, then interrupted by "house. boat. death." My first thought upon hearing 'boat' was the one that the Brazilians came in on, but it doesn't make any sense in the context of the other words. Perhaps this was what lead to someone's death. It began at their house, perhaps they tried to flee via boat, but they eventually reached their death. This is entirely speculation, though. If anyone has any thoughts for those, I'd love to hear.

As for the poem. I warn you, this is a heavy analysis where I connect everything ever possible back to this fucking minecraft server. I saw that no one else was looking into the poem, but I lowkey really liked it, so I got super into it. Kinda makes me want to do an analysis of the poem on its own but for now we lorin'

The narrator of this poem finds a 'creature.' What that creature is, it's completely unknown. But despite the description of it being bestial, it can speak. The poem mentions humoid body parts. He was squatting, he had hands, he had a heart, and he likely had a mouth. This creature could be anything. An avian, an angel, a devil, a hybrid, a slime--perhaps an amalgamation of them all.

This creature is partaking of his own heart. He is eating it because he wants to. Though it can definitely be argued that he needs to. They are in a desert. Deserts are thought to be desolate.

"Is it good, friend?" Is an interesting line, calling this creature a 'friend' was not needed for any sort of rhyme scheme nor syllable count. There is familiarity here, though it's minor, as we do not know the creature's name. The islanders know/knew of the federation and its workers. But, other than, maybe, Tubbo and Fred, there was no pure sense of familiarity. There was no trustworthy friendship.

I feel now is a good time to mention that the person narrating this poem in the video does not seem human. I have reason to believe that it is a Federation worker, as they mention the marketing department and their personal rejection of the film.

I believe that, from the perspective of the Federation, this is a poem about them and the islanders. They ask, "Is it good, friend?" Are you glad that you are eating your own heart? Are you glad that you broke our one rule, that you keep trying to bypass our laws and regulations? Are you happy with yourselves?

"It is bitter," there have been kidnappings and deaths, horrors we have never witnessed until this island--until we broke your rules to discover the truth, "But I like it because it is bitter, and because it is my heart."

It's bitter. Life is hard when you're no longer oblivious. But that's okay, we want this, because this was our choice, and for once not yours.

If we view this through the lens of the Federation, who supposedly provided this video, this poem can be applied to a very interesting context. The poem on its own is about self destruction and possibly sin (partaking in something viewed as counterproductive and harmful (I'm only saying 'viewed as' because, again, we do not know what this creature is) simply because one wants to is generally the basis of what people call a sin). The Federation views the island's curiosity as a sin, one that is self-destructive because they know what will happen to them. They know that they will be punished if they step out of line, and yet, they persist.

AGH im going insane out here it's actually not okay. oh god guys. ofhksjfjksdkjkcn

[merbear25]

Reigniting an old flame (Mihawk)

Prompt 18 requested by @thesunxwentblack

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting this, especially with Mihawk! I had a blast, so I hope you enjoy what I've written for you 💜💜

CW: NSFW!! MDNI!! fem!reader, fluffy smut, established relationship, vaginal penetration, slightly rough sex

Sharing your life with someone never appeared to be in the cards for either of you. However, your paths intersected, giving you a chance at love. Understandably, neither of you held out hope for your relationship to survive the countless fire it'd undoubtedly be under, but it turned out that anything was possible.

Despite the shaky circumstances, your love was worth holding onto—such devotion was difficult to come by in this world. Wanting nothing more than your safety, Mihawk urged you to distance yourself from him, at least until he managed to get everything under control.

However, seeing how distraught you were by the whole ordeal made it seem as if this decision was the wrong one. Holding you closely, he reassured you that your love was meant to flourish. Handing you a small piece of paper, you noticed the address written on it—a type of safe haven for you to fly under the radar.

Pushing your heartbreak aside, thinking that this could be the final time you see each other, your trust in him remained unwavering. Tearfully agreeing to the conditions, you departed. Watching the life you'd just begun together become more distant, the serverity of reality was almost proving too much to bear.

With days turning into weeks and weeks into months, gnawing dread that something had happened ate away at you until a piece of mail appeared: one holding neither a return address nor signature, yet an abundance of clues. The envelope contained postcards with nothing written on them but a note about the supposed journey that alluded to the true origins of post. Trusting your gut, you answered, sending it to a place that was starting to feel more and more like a shot in the dark.

Only when another arrived, were your doubts set to rest. With the illusion of secrecy kept, it was obvious to the both of you that your adoration new no bounds. In spite of the small glimmers of joy you'd get receiving and sending mail to each other, the extended period of doing so was weighing on you, leaving you wondering if you'd ever get the chance to hold each other again, to allow your love to flourish in the way it was supposed to.

With the last two years passing by in a haze, the next piece of mail sparked hope. Sifting through the hints, he gave you notice of his current whereabouts, extending an invitation. Elation of being reunited coarsed through you, your feet and the sails of the ships being unable to carry you as quickly as you needed.

Upon seeing him, there was no chance you'd hold yourself back from running into his arms. The feeling of him wrapping you up in an embrace—one which he'd be sure could never allow you to slip through—allowed your souls to meld together. Granting himself this moment of weakness, he swept you off your feet and carried you into your new home, peppering your sweet face with much deserved affection.

Placing you down on the bed, you had a silent understanding that everything else could wait, for now getting lost in the pits of your desire took priority.

As the fires of your passion increased with each searing kiss, your body arched with each touch, each grope, beckoning for him to ravish you. Trailing kisses down your neck, removed your delicates with ease. Pinning your legs back, your needy slit was on full display, which only whetted the appetite that'd gone without satisfaction for far too long.

Unleashing his arousal, he teased your pearl with its tip, sending waves of anticipation deep into your desperate walls. Easing himself into you, he reveled in the sensation your twitching form was so eager to give him.

Picking up the pace, he bucked in and out of you with a clear goal: letting the dry spell come to a crashing halt by surrendering yourselves to the uncharted depths of euphoria.

Your moans were growing more and more frantic, sounding off in the room like sweet melodies. The sight of you losing all sense of self on him made you even more irresistible. Leaning over you, your lip lock was feverish yet firm. As his length forced itself deeper, your groans at taking the full extent of his lust mixed with his.

Such thrills were building up to an explosive irruption, one which would quake the earth surrounding it. Fully letting go of any of the sorrow and uncertainty you once had, an earth shattering revilation freed you from those shackles.

Now with more clarity, the two of you could give yourselves entry into the other's life, no longer needing to hide.

Leaving you with a kiss on your forehead, he excused himself momentarily, giving you full reign of the bedroom.

Taking liberty to look around at the different knick knacks he had scattered about, a red velvet box caught your eye. Admiring the delicately crafted lining, you unclasped it. You were met with a stack of postcards and notes.

Holding each note up, you could barely make out that they were yours due to the tears flooding your eyes. Such tenderness that you never knew he was capable of sent your heart soaring.

When he reentered the room and caught you looking at his keepsake, he gently placed a hand on your lower back.

"You mean to tell me you've kept every single note?"

Cupping your face, he spoke with complete certainty, "A love like yours is meant to be cherished."

Being given the chance to fan the flames of your passion, letting it reach new hights was an opportunity you'd never take for granted. Wrapping your arms around him, you gave yourselves a few more moments to let those bright embers dance between you.