#but hes one of the good ones whos actually nice

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐀 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥.❞

Who has their eye on you? (Very detailed)

Masterlist.

Author's note,

I would appreciate if everyone read this -> Boundaries.

Divider.

Pile I.

If you’re into men, then this pile is for you. If not, you picked the wrong pile (an intuitive disclaimer).

There is a tall man who makes sure he takes care of himself and always eyes your body like eye candy. Their smell is rich, it makes your nostril flare up slightly, aching to be beneath him and allowing him to stuff you full. This man knows how to draw you in and likes to play coy around you. Possibility of him manifesting you as their specific person with one sided love (on his side), or you both are manifesting each other unaware you both are looking for the same qualities in each other. He is someone who likes to subtly touch you and apologize gracefully for others when you know damn well he is bullshitting. He is someone who focuses on being the best version of himself for the wealth that streams from his wallet. Meaning, it does not matter who you are, he is going to do everything in his power to take what is his. Even if that means it is you and your private parts.

Some of you actually have already had sex with him and have made him your friend with benefits, or you have somewhat of a situationship. During sex, they absolutely love to grope your ass, always telling you how perfect it is and how it fits right with his dick. How it thrusts nicely into your ass or pussy (depending on your situation). Or how it feels so warm on the tip of his dick as it hits and molds nicely into your sweet spot. He is the epitome of those mafia stories you see in smut stories or Wattpad stories (but very nicely done stories). He reeks of sexy perfume and dark red, adding a bit of dark blue if he were a color. His aura drags you in, which is how the both of you had sex in the bathroom, somewhere with people, whether it was hidden or risky, or how you both met if you don’t have a specific relationship with them. He is someone who will brag about how good his aftercare is but suck painfully with it and need your guide for it. His ego is through the roof, but you make this bastard soft as a puppy. He is aching to be around you, and when he is, he always struggles to hide his boner, or the bulge in his pants. He loves sucking your juices or will if you do decide to have sex or date him.

If you do decide to date him, the relationship will be gorgeous and surprisingly healthy considering how his mind runs. Or how you have seen him with others, the trope “I hate everyone, and I mean everyone but you and my pet” is really it. Key of advice: make sure to give him a blowjob during angry sex so he can become pudding and pamper you. His last lover never gave him oral, so he has been craving it, but also, it is part of a love language for him.

Masterlist.

Pile II.

It’s not a who, more so a what. Now, I know that sounds confusing, but let me make it clear. Do you speak to deities? Spirits, ghosts, and so forth that are associated with sexual energy? Because that is what I am picking up, and their energy is so soothing that you know you can trust them, and they are there to guide you through your journey. I would not say they are like spirit guides, or part of your ancestral guide, but they are similar to a teacher.

They are eyeing you because they want to protect you and make sure you follow their teachings. A lot of you are becoming impatient with your future spouse, lover, fwb, etc., coming to you and assuming every person that feels ‘’right’’ to you, or that you connect well with, is your lover/situationship. None of them that are coming are yours; you are supposed to meet them, and that is what they told you, so listen to them. They are meant to help you despite what others have said about them. Some of the people that you have spoken to were into this and have told you not to trust them because of what they are and the stories about them, but from an energy perspective, they are trustworthy and actually adore you. Now, I am always hesitant to talk about deity energy since I don’t know if the pile you are reading is actually for you or not, but I will give you signs that may help:

Lucifer, Lilith, Nyx, Athena, Zeus, Tlazolteotl, sponge it up, something to do with pain, tears, and breaking his heart, breaking my heart, Apollo is my certain love, and the demons of it’s figure.

Now, if these signs are not fitting with what you have seen, heard, spoken to, etc., then do not trust the deity you speak with. It does not matter if the deity you speak to is not in the sign list, it is only what signs were channeled. and what resonated. And if it does not fit through, please cleanse your energy fast and efficiently since I keep seeing red warning signs and alarms ringing in my head.

Moving on, your deity has spoken to you about the gifts your future person will bring into the relationship, but they have spoken about how you are being ungrateful with the circumstance you have right now. I understand that sometimes trying to figure out who your future person can be draining and exciting, but it can also cause weird paranoia. And that sometimes it feels like those mystery games, but you have to let it go, trust in your deity (and spirit guides for some), and work on yourself. You have to learn to trust your intuition about which deity you speak to, about who you have sex with, and when you masturbate (because intuition tells me you are causing yourself more pain in associating yourself with your trauma kinks/thoughts instead of focusing on what makes you feel good), and ignoring the signs that tell you to leave certain situations surrounding you. Your environment has a lot of toxicity, and you only stay in them so you do not feel lonely, but sometimes it is a good thing to be lonely since you learn a lot about who you are. And that is something you need and what your deities have been telling you. Some of you are ignoring their teachings because you use people to hide away from your pain.

You need to talk to yourself as you would with someone else that you felt close to and get to know yourself as a best friend. Learn to appreciate your behaviors that you find “repulsive,” and understand that it is okay to be different than everyone else. Being different is not repulsive, it is a beautiful and cool thing. Fitting in is what is ruining your relationship with yourself and your future person. So instead of being so impatient about something that can happen within the year, why don’t you use that time to do better for yourself? Because at the end of the day, the only person who is stopping you is you. You are the person who can change your world, even if it is something small. For example, let’s say you are living in a toxic environment, but you have a desire to learn all you can? You can use free resources that allow you to. The internet has the same resources that allow you to learn, you do not need courses to learn or scholarly reports to learn. Everything is available to us now because of how broad the internet is. Now, you could have complained about it, but you did not and decided to do better for yourself and change. One step at something is much better than doing absolutely nothing. Even if you read something for a minute, it can still benefit you.

I felt like something was missing when I was editing your work, but some of you have to understand this fully. You cannot manifest your future person either. Some of you thought about it throughout this pile, and like I mentioned, I understand how desperate you are for love, but this paranoia that is surrounding you and your heart is the problem. I understand that you can manifest anything, and it does not matter how you do it, but you have this belief that it does matter, and you must have emotions in order to manifest. So instead, why don't you have a clear mind and heart for this person, so when you do meet them, you can be better for both yourself and them as well as make it easier for yourself to manifest with a clear conscience? Do not be your own blockage when it comes to this or sabotage yourself through your overwhelming paranoia that surrounds your mind every second of your time.

Masterlist.

Pile III.

Your first kiss back from August when you were either a kid or a teenager. You still keep in touch with them. I wouldn’t say the kiss meant anything between you both, I would say it happened by accident for the both of you until now. Have you noticed their flirty remarks with you, especially when you hang out around others, how they only gaze at you despite others coming to flirt with them, how they pamper you for no reason, or how they are doing it more frequently, how they decided it would be best if they stood next to you where the cars are located rather than the other way around? How they believe it is important for you to suddenly take care of yourself, and though some of you already do, they make it somewhat overbearing, but you push it aside because it is them. Have you also noticed how doting they are with you, how sometimes they coddle you, or how they make sure you have taken your medication when it comes to your body or latest surgery? Have you noticed all of these, or have you been pushing them aside because you would rather stay oblivious instead of admitting your teenage crush has feelings for you, or perhaps has already fallen in love with you? With your ability to be genuine with everyone, with your ability to show people respect and compassion without seeking anything back, with your ability to write efficiently without the need to re-edit your work, with your ability to be smooth when you think you are being geeky and awkward. Have you also noticed how they make somewhat dirty remarks only around you? Have you noticed they do it out of respect for your body and privacy, and yet you still decide to ‘’act’’ oblivious because it is too scary to admit they like you back? The word "back” scares you, it is like your heart is trying to escape, but a strong pull is pushing you back into the same corner. It is not a bad thing to be committed to someone in a relationship, but for you, being stuck in one relationship and not having the ability to explore with others seems suffocating. And for you, all of this stems from trauma, that one memory you are pushing away in hopes it gets pushed away as well.

I am not the person to decide for you whether or not you explore this relationship with them; all I will mention are some things that may change your mind since that is what your heart is begging for you to do. As well as some key things to help you heal.

When things become tough for you, your favorite activity is throwing the relationship away or sabotaging your achievements through disrespecting your honor and then laughing about it. When things become tough, it is easier for you to feel shame or regret rather than deal with the toxicity of your actions. And lastly, when things become tough, it is easier for you to be your own ruthless villain than to take accountability for your wrongdoings. Yet, at the end of the day, there is one person who has always stayed by your side, never changing their mind on who you are because they know how far you can go. They know how much potential you would have if you allowed yourself to deal with your sadness and realize that being sad is not a weakness nor is it a blessing. Our emotions are simply emotions, they come and go. Sometimes they make us realize some things, giving us mental clarity, and other times, they are a reminder of how we feel about the situation, or internally. In short, emotions are subjective and man made, therefore, feeling those emotions should not be the problem when it comes to challenges arising. You should understand that you are the one creating those emotions.

For example, let’s say that I am dealing with a breakup. The usual response would be to cry about it and think about them constantly, be angry and try to seek revenge or be petty, maybe sleep around and brush them out of my mind, etc. But this would stem from how secure I am with who I am and how our relationship was like. Though, if I were secure, then I would understand what had happened, use that sadness as an opportunity to improve, and learn the lessons. Embrace the fond memories, or perhaps use those memories to find someone better for myself. But then again, this is my idea of how a breakup would go if someone was healthy or unhealthy. How do you see it? You have to ask yourself this.

Once you have asked yourself this and finally understood it, ask yourself another question. “Why do I feel the need to distance myself from those that actually care for me? What am I seeking when I do this, and how is it helping me?” Asking this will help you understand if you actually want a relationship in the first place and help trigger those fears in a safe manner instead of you pushing yourself to be someone else when you answer self-aware questions.

Now that you have asked these and fully understood them, allow me to speak about your friend, and then it will be your choice. And if you need to stop this reading and come back after a month, then please read this when you are fully ready.

This person has been by your side when you ruin your past relationships. They are someone who will stop what they are doing to be by your side or help you when your past comes back to you. Sometimes, they will pamper you with fresh fruits or hot meals and hope it can soothe your mind away from those thoughts that have been affecting you lately. They are someone who will soothe your tears with kisses or caress your tears away with pure determination; someone who sees the bright side of things when you think it is better to be realistic and pessimistic. They are someone who texts you faster and makes sure your feelings are taken into consideration, as well as your family (if you are close with them) or your pet that may be sick at the moment, and if not, your pets. They will buy you the things you adore without any expectations or seeking your validation (your exs were like that). They are someone who will be firm with you when you make a mistake but not allow you to walk over them. They are someone who sets boundaries with you and others, and though it does not go well with others, they keep their head high and focus on what is more important to them. They are someone who hates the concept of gossip and makes sure to not engage, and when they are pulled into it, they act oblivious and make sure people see them as ‘dumb’ or ‘silly.’ To them, it is better to be seen as that than engage with something repulsive like that. They are someone who makes sure they uplift people, especially behind their back, and you have seen it multiple times, thus causing your heart to fall for them.

Yeah, you are crushing on them hard since you were young but have been pushing away from your past experiences. Some of you are actually in love with them but keep gaslighting yourselves because it is easier for you. And ironically, ‘Love Someone’ by Lukas Graham popped up. It fits quite well with how they view you and how you view this whole situation. I believe there is nothing else to channel because once you listen to the song, everything will make sense.

Masterlist.

[impish-baby]

I'm so glad you're alright! Take all the time you need and take care of yourself! I would like to request a fic on a vampire couple and their kidnapped adopted kiddo who can regress into a very small headspace? Like about 0-5? Thank you for your time and do make sure to drink some water today, these days are kinda hot.

Vampire Dad Caregivers x recently turned! Reader Drabble - 🍼🦇

"Oh, I know, I know, little one.." Thoren, moving his fledgling to be cradled against his chest. Quiet echos go through the bond of hungry, hungry, hungry. How cute. But the most precious of all is the occasional love, love, sire.

You had been such a fierce thing at first, clawling and scratching at anything you could reach. Just a misguided child not knowing what's good for them, you're sure to thank both your fathers for taking you under their wings after you've come to your senses a little more. He's certain of that.

Thoren knows that won't be for a long while though, you're nothing more than a fresh babe born into a new world.

"Here.." Your fangs are still coming in, he bites his own wrist before holding it up to your mouth for you to drink from. "There, darling, papa will make sure your belly is full so you can grow up to be a big scary vampire like him." A chuckle, "well, maybe not that scary, I don't think something as cute as you could even frighten a mouse."

It really is adorable watching you eat, if only you wouldn't yank his hair.

"Now, sweetheart.." Thoren grunts, gently trying to pry your hand away from the lock threatening to be pulled from his head. "That's not nice, is it? We don't pull Papa's hair, it hurts." His mother wasn't lying when she said babies can have a ridiculous amount of strength when they want to, your hand has a death grip on him.

"My love, would you fancy a bit of help?"

Rune's lithe figure rises from a shadow dancing along the wall, gracefully coming over to the bed. "You should be wiser than having your hair down around that little devil."

"Don't scold me." Thoren sighs with relief when his partner manages to get his hair free and ties it back for him. Thank the gods. "I thought I'd be safe for one feeding."

"Right.." Rune giggles, stealing you out of the other vampire's arms. "Pup, you have to bully your Papa while I'm here so I can laugh at him! Come on, we're partners in crime, aren't we?" He presses a plethora of kisses across your cheeks, a wide grin splitting his face as you squeal at the sudden affection. "Come on, we can play a little before it's naptime."

(A/N: I hope this was ok, anon!! It's actually freezing where I live- (at least it feels that way.. most of the year it's 110+ here) but thank you for the reminder, I do need to drink more water! ^^)

[luxcuriousao3]

Expanding on this.

warnings: perv!König, noncon groping, somno, titfucking

-

Best Friend!König who’s obsessed with your tits.

You’ve known each other since childhood, and while he shot up in height, you shot up in bra size. And König noticed. Mien Gott, did he notice.

He was around fifteen when he realized for the first time just how nice your breasts felt against his big body when he hugged you, so soft and warm. He started taking any excuse to give you long, drawn out hugs—though of course he told himself it was just because he loved you so much. You were the only person who didn't bully him, after all.

He rationalized how his gaze started to end up on your cleavage more often than your face, too. He was just so tall, that even if he tried to look into your eyes—and he did, Schatz, he really did! You have to believe him, he tried so hard—he could see straight down your top, anyway.

And, well, he was no saint—just a man. And your tits were so pretty.

Could you really blame him for looking? He just wanted to admire you…

He always insisted on driving you places once he got his license—he was a good friend, after all, and he liked being useful. That he got to throw his arm out across your soft chest every time the car in front of him stopped too suddenly was just a bonus.

As the years passed by, his obsession grew—especially after he found porn. Most nights, he fisted his long, fat cock to videos of women who looked like you having their breasts played with, abused, worshipped. He preferred the latter, but he couldn’t deny there was something thrilling about the idea of slapping your soft tits and watching them jiggle. He would be sure to kiss them better after, though.

Once, after a particularly rough mission, König showed up at your place beaten to hell, eyes scarily hollow. You immediately let him inside, pulled him down onto your couch, and held him as he cried. He laid his head on your chest, seeking the comfort only your breasts could give him, and you shushed him softly as you petted his hair. He wished desperately in that moment that he could pull your top down, latch onto one of your cute little nipples, and suckle to his heart’s content, but he settled for leaning more and more of his weight on you until you had to lay back on the couch, him on top of you with his face buried in between your tits as he feigned sleep.

He was far too heavy for you to move yourself, and clearly, you felt bad for him, because you let him stay like that the whole night rather than wake him up.

On your twentieth birthday, König made sure he would have two whole weeks of leave, so he could spend time with you and your perfect breasts. He didn’t have the best relationship with his family, and you didn't have a roommate at Uni, so you let him stay in your dorm. You weren’t going to make your best friend sleep on the floor, of course, so the two of you shared a bed. Nothing untoward happened until the fourth night, when you both got outrageously drunk. You curled up in the tiny bed together when you got back from the pub, and promptly knocked out.

When you woke up the next morning, though, it was to one of König’s massive paws slipped under the neck of your dress, cupping your left tit.

To say you freaked out was an understatement.

You jumped up like you arse was on fire, hollering at him, demanding to know what the fuck he thought he was doing. König, who had been dead asleep, actually fell out of the bed, looking up at you for once, his big, perpetually sad eyes wide with complete confusion and a little bit of fear. When he realized what you were accusing him of, he started stuttering apologies, mortified with himself. You thought it was because he had unintentionally groped you in his sleep, which was partially true. But the main reason he was so upset was because he hadn’t even gotten to enjoy it. He’d held your beautiful breasts for the very first time and he hadn’t even known! The thought made him tear up, and you quickly forgave him, telling him that you believed him—"Accidents happen."

Every time it happened after that, König let you believe it was still an accident.

The more time he spent in the military earning his fearsome reputation and seeing terrible horrors, the bolder he grew. Now, when he visited you in your flat and gave you those sad puppy eyes until you let him sleep in bed with you rather than on the couch, he did not merely cup your breast at night. He played with your nipples, rolling the sensitive little buds between his fingers, tugging and pinching and delighting in the sleepy sounds of pleasure you let out. You tended to wake up if he got his mouth on them though, so he restrained himself—at least until he was able to get you drunk. You slept like dead when you were wasted, and he had free reign over your amazing tits. He squeezed and sucked, kissed and licked, even fucked them, once. He’d been a little drunk too, that night, or he wouldn't have risked it—but seeing his massive cock nestled between your breasts was like a revelation. He found God in the warm embrace of your tits, and he made an offering in the form of his seed, spilling it all over your chest, neck, and lips.

It felt blasphemous to clean his come from your skin, like he was desecrating a sacred altar, but he knew you would hate him if you discovered what he’d done. And he couldn’t have that—he loved you, he always had and always would. You and your heavenly breasts.

[ihrthoney]

for us

pairings: namgyu x preg!reader

warnings: angst & fluff :p

an: i started my first big girl job but im motivated so ill try to post more :)! i haven’t posted in a minute and i hate pregnancy tropes but i make the exception for squid games lol. i will make a part two!

nam-gyu was many things, an addict, a partier, an idiot and a sweetheart. the sweetest ever, actually.

unfortunately for you you worked at club pentagon, which is how you met the physical embodiment of an acid trip.

who he was when he was sober was something you cherished and kept close to your heart. it wasn’t hard to weave your way into his rotten lungs, but soon enough you became his air, his new high.

after learning you never did substances, he switched positions at the club and asked you to get a safer job, not wanting you to inevitably cave to the horrible things that he tries.

you scold him of course, reprimand him and argue about hating how he acted when under the influence. for a while he managed to stop, wanting something serious and stable.

but then he met thanos, he came home obnoxiously intoxicated. nam-gyu was so star struck that he saw a famous rapper that he didn’t understand why you locked him out of the room, until he woke up the next morning with a headache he only got when he was on drugs.

apologies spewed out of his mouth, wishing for a second chance. his wish was granted, he found another outlet for “extra money” and promised you both a fresh start.

until the extra money vanished off the face of the earth and now he was in incredible debt.

the few months of bliss now gone, thoughts of continuing such an unstable relationship this far into life didn’t seem like a good idea. the arguments were bad, mostly on your end as you couldn’t get him to stop begging and spilling empty promises,

“i’ll make the money back and i’ll work harder to make more for you, please baby i’m so sorry.” the sight of him on his knees and holding your legs would’ve been kind of sweet if this wasn’t the millionth time he’s promised to be better.

to his disappointment, you walked out of his life that night, asking him to only find you when he grew up.

he was determined to make the money back, nam-gyu had no hesitation when calling the number on the card.

-

seeing thanos’ face on the big screen in the unfamiliar room brought a bitter taste in your mouth. you felt bad, seeing as he had the talent but like your ex he succumbed to the high instead.

your ex. that fucking moron. that piece of shit doesn’t even know you’re carrying his damn kid.

a week after you walked out of his life, you guys met up one time to exchange clothes and what not but one thing lead to another and here you were in hospital debt. finding a stable job was hard, especially when you worked as a bartender most of your adult life.

the stress was eating you alive, renting the nice place you had was not cheap and the nice landlord could only be nice for so long because you had to start paying more.

the past few months have been rough and you really wish you had the support of your ex even if he wasn’t the greatest, he was yours and that’s all that really mattered.

standing in line to sign the consent forms made you nauseous, afraid of what’s to come. as you’re walking back to your bed, you get stopped by a hand on your shoulder,

“yn?”

you feel your heartbeat quicken as you turn around and look at your ex boyfriend.

“why are you here?” his hand is still on your shoulder, slightly moving up and down your arm.

he always had a thing for keeping a hand on you, he said it grounded him.

“the same reason everyone is, debt.”

the expression on his face makes your chest ache, he looks so concerned that it makes you a wee bit mad, “what debt are you in? you’ve always been financially responsible!”

he was right, out of you two you made the smarter choices. it dawned on you that you had yet to tell him you’re pregnant with his kid.

“yn? what happened? did someone scam you? i know some people that could find them.” his tone deepening as he becomes more serious, “no! it’s not like that. it’s complicated..”

the worry in your voice makes his eyes fill with worry, “baby, you can tell me.” the name makes you push away from him but the distance is immediately gone as he closes it, pulling your hands into his own. you can’t look him in the eye, scared he’s going to be mad at you.

you’re going to keep it no matter what but the thought of him hating you and your kid makes your heart crack.

the swirled hormones make everything seem so much more intense, tears start to fill your eyes which makes his widen. his hands, ever so warm, hold your face and tilt it so you’re looking at him.

“what’s wrong, i’m here ba-“

“i’m pregnant, nam-gyu.” he pulls his hands off of your face like he was burned, an expression of hurt and anger swirls in his eyes,

“who’s the father?” you look at him like he’s stupid, which only makes him more upset. “why are you looking at me like that?”

does he seriously think i got with someone else?

nam-gyu is distraught, the thought of you no longer being in love with him makes him sick. the fact that you’re carrying someone else’s child makes any will to live disappear. suddenly he doesn’t care that he owes money to anyone, there’s no chance to get you back. “does he treat you well? are you happier?”

“i’m not seeing anyone new, nam-gyu.”

“you shouldn’t be playing games if you’re pregnant. you could hurt yourself or the baby.”

despite his own lack of rationality when making choices, he was always so careful with you.

you threw any rationality you had and spit out the truth,

“it’s yours.”

now he was looking at you like you were stupid, “what?”

“the baby. it’s yours. you’re the father. i’m carrying your child.” he blinks at you slowly, taking in the information you just dropped on him,

“it’s.. you’re carrying.. our baby?” nodding your head, you step forward and take his hand and guide it to your stomach.

“after we broke up, i started to feel sick so i took a test. i didn’t know what to do, i couldn’t find a good job near my place, moving is too expensive, i was afraid to reach out to you. i owe the hospital so much because i’m paying by month but i ran out of savings and then this guy came up to me and gave me a card to make money.”

by the end of your ramble, nam-gyu pulled you in for a tight hug, smoothing your back with his hand. softly, he coos into your hair, “i would’ve never denied you. had you called, we could’ve figured this shit out together.”

you argued back, “how was i supposed to know that? you promised me over and over again but nothing changed!”

despite missing the warmth, you again create a distance by pushing him away from you, although it’s no use given how he holds your arms but he still keeps the distance out of respect for you.

“i have changed! i’m here, i’m going to win that money and i’ll take care of you.” his eyes plead, the hands that hold you start to shake.

“you’ll win it? alone?” the logic hits him and he laughs at his own idiocy, “we’ll win, i’ll make sure we both get out of here. we can put the money together. it’ll be more than enough for us to start over!”

you’re skeptical, sure the chance of winning is there but.. is your trust in him still there?

“if we win-“

his hands move from your arms to your stomach, “when baby, when we win-“

your eyes roll at his optimism, “if and when we win, you need to quit drugs. cold turkey. no excuses, no more second chances. if you so much as look at a drug, i will kill you and raise this kid alone, do you understand me?”

he mocks a soldier, hand to his head and stance straight, “yes ma’am!” the pose barely lasts as he starts to giggle, following you to your bed while holding onto your hand.

there was more to come, you had a feeling that much money wouldn’t come so easy, but things felt just a tad easier with him.

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[sombrashe]

content dark themes, virginity loss, drug use, america mention

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves blowjobs

theres just something about a nice warm throat that makes his dick jump in his sweats. and then theres something about your nice warm throat and suddenly hes like a teenager again.

the way he acts when he wants one is borderline annoying. he whines a bunch and gets extra clingy especially when you're busy. he'll place his hand on your knee and kiss your neck ever so softly just getting you riled up.

never gives back. he'll give head when he deems it worthy but beyond the occasional anniversary head you're shit out of luck. you've given up asking for it a while back and honestly it's fine. he does still get you wet he just doesn't use his mouth to get you there.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who has a corruption kink

his dream is to take a virgin and fuck them so good they're ruined for any other dick. he's had a lot of practice by the time he meets you. when you agree to sleep with him is the only time he willing gives head. he needs you to feel safe and secure if he's going to be a permanent fixture in your mind.

he'll watch from the sidelines whenever you're talking to someone at the club. holes burning into the back of your skull leave you stuttering and suddenly unsure of yourself in the conversation. you'll excuse yourself completely unaware why you're acting like this and go back to him with your tail tucked between your legs.

he pesters you to try new things sexually all the time. honestly this man probably has you trying things you were always against. he has such a way with words when it comes to getting you to open up. he'll give you everything you need to get you to say yes even if it means making promises he doesn't plan to keep.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves period sex

it's not just the blood that he likes. it's how sensitive your tits are leading up to when your period starts. it's when you're complaining about feeling bloated and how much you're breaking out. it's knowing you're going to be pliant and sensitive the entire time.

this is the only time he actually pits effort into sex. towels down to cover your sheets? done. water and some pain medicine on standby? done. fresh clothes and pad for after your shower sitting on the sink? done. anything to get him to his main goal of getting his dick wet.

his favorite part is how little foreplay he has to do before he can slip it in. he still does of course because he doesn't want to hear your whining. but it takes a lot less time and he loves that. calls your blood natural lube and gets to work rearranging your insides.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who has a pornhub premium account

he's has the same account for years. never comments or donates just saves videos that he watches over and over again. it's filled with american pornstars always speaking filthy english while getting pounded and korean cam girls whispering sweet nothings into the mic as they bounce.

he doesn't give up his porn watching for anyone. instead he'll simply tweak his search engine to better reflect the relationship he's currently in. chubby white girl gets dicked down, black doctor gives her make patient a blowjob, korean cam girls moaning like sluts. he doesn't watch it often when he's in a relationship because he honestly expects sex from his partner at some point pretty early into the relationship.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who's always high during sex

he loves seeing his partners pupils blow wide as he places another tablet on their tongue. drugs only being used because they trust him that much. he always keeps up with them up until they physically have to stop so they don't overdose.

he's always on something and you can normally tell what it is based off his eyes and the way he acts around you. clingy namgyu is because of coke. irritable namgyu is because of heroin. horny namgyu is because of weed. hyper namgyu is because of ecstasy. he's been every which way in front of you and you don't seem to love him any less.

when he fucks it's methodical depending on how fucked up the drug makes him. sometimes he's almost robotic with the way his thrusts are calculated and other times he acts as though he has no bones in his body the way he bends and positions himself to reach deeper.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who's insecure af

he will literally never admit it but he's a very very insecure man. he brags to high heaven about how good he is in bed but deep down he's unsure of himself. whenever you compliment him or his abilities in bed his ego spikes.

he needs constant reassurance in little things like "i love you." "you look handsome today, baby." or "god that was amazing." not overtly reassuring but instead subtle to not get him in his head. he never asks for it so it's up to you to figure it out which in of itself annoying but you do whatever you can for your mans <3

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves to hear you talk

he's not a talker when it comes to any real aspect of his life. but in bed all you get are heavy breaths and the occasional whine or moan. he chooses his partners on how little they annoy him and how much yapping he can stomach. with you those rules go out the window. the first time you sucked him off you talked so much he had to shove your head down to shut you up.

during sex you love making noises and whine for him. begging is a lot of your talking. please and yes the two words that make up most of your vocabulary. he loves leaving you a babbling mess of cum and spit. when he's doesn't want to listen he'll shove you head into a pillow. it doesn't shut you up just makes everything muffled and it ends up spurring him on further.

[infiniteglitterfall]

crib sheet for those not in the know:

the subtext of these twitter comments is that any mention of Israel, of places in Israel, or of going to Israel, is "Zionist propaganda"

Therefore, calling a Jewish-Indian household "Jaipur-Aviv" is Bad because it mentions Tel Aviv, a city built entirely from unoccupied desert land purchased by Jews.

this comes from the idea that acting as if Israel exists is immoral (i.e. that tolerating Israel's existence is violent colonialism)

There's no other country on earth that anyone considers it immoral or violent to mention

There isn't a movement against acknowledging or having visited the United States, Canada, England, Russia, Iran, Afghanistan, etc.

Zio is a KKK dogwhistle popularized by David Duke forty years ago. Using it makes it more difficult for others to recognize and avoid white supremacists -- and often means that you're not recognizing and avoiding white supremacists.

I've watched every episode of Friends ten times at a minimum. I am not exaggerating. I feel pretty safe in stating point-blank that nobody at any point even utters the word "Israel" on that show.

Also, Rachel is not Jewish. I am kinda dying to know what the fuck that person thought the "Zionist connotations" in their relationship were.

WAIT A MINUTE STOP THE PRESSES. RACHEL IS JEWISH!??!!!

lmao this is killing me, I used to be so sure she was Jewish and then I googled it and people said she wasn't!

The nose job subplot read as an intentionally Jewish regional reference; Rachel refers to her grandma as her bubbe; the show's creators have said she's Jewish; she had been going to marry Barry Farber, who is "definitely Jewish;" her last name is Green, "a common 'Americanized' Jewish name;" she apparently wears a star of David I've never spotted in episode 3; and also, her name is Rachel.

Okay well, thanks to the borderline Nazis up there for teaching me that Rachel actually IS Jewish! I knew I needed to rewatch the series!

Bonus: they don't say Israel, but they DO say Israeli once.

The Big Bang Theory apparently had an episode called The Jerusalem Duality, in which "Sheldon applies himself to winning the Nobel Peace Prize for solving the Middle East crisis by creating a second wailing wall (also called the 'Western Wall') in the Mexican desert. Dr. Gablehauser and Dennis Kim stop by. Sheldon explains his concept to them; convinced that, like the baseball movie 'build it and they will come', adding that he plans to lure the Jewish people by 'making it nice...we'll put out a spread'."

The only real references Big Bang Theory makes to Israel are, again, in the "acknowledging it exists and being willing to go there" genre:

The Nanny had a lot of topical political jokes. In one episode, Fran Drescher says, "Yasser Arafat? ...He could use a facial, or better yet a chemical peel. We're already giving him the Gaza Strip, would it kill him to take a shave?"

Weirdly, this was 8 years before Israel did unilaterally pull out of the Gaza Strip and destroy all its settlements there.

Regardless, this is more a joke about her character being overly focused on appearances and fashion. Especially given that she simultaneously gets corrected on the fact that Arafat wore a burnous, not a turban.

There's also a 1995 episode in which Maxwell wants to get his teenage daughter "away from boys" by sending her to a convent over the winter holidays. Fran strongly disagrees about the convent, but does think a trip would be good for Maggie, like her own teenage trip to a kibbutz had been. The whole family ends up going to a kibbutz, which I can only imagine the people in that thread would consider to be pure "hasbara."

Seinfeld, though, is by far the best reference they make here. Because this is a quote from the 1992 episode "The Limo":

This is the only "Zionist" reference I can find in Seinfeld. So it's the most likely thing these folks are objecting to as "Zionism" in Seinfeld episodes.

ZOG, or Zionist Occupied Government, is another huge white supremacist term that has made its way into the extreme part of the pro-palestine movement. The founder of Students for Justice in Palestine has also publicly stated that "Congress is an Israeli occupied territory."

Wow. I learned a lot more than I expected to there.

according to the replies on this tweet literally every tv show has Zionist Propaganda™️ so i guess the hamasniks are just going to have to twiddle their thumbs for entertainment

edit: some of the nonsense from the replies

do not call yourself progressive or inclusive or revolutionary or anticolonial or whatever other fucking “I’m A Good Person” label de jour you’ve chosen if you say shit like this. you cannot talk like a Nazi and then insist you’re just an antizionist.

[octuscle]

Exchange student: Athens (GA)

Benjamin was not particularly happy that he had come to Georgia as an exchange student. Athens... He had wanted something in New England. Or at least in California. But he hadn't been able to choose. Athens had taken him.

The introductory week had been a disappointment. His fellow students were almost exclusively from the neighborhood, the boys were interested in football and hunting rifles, the girls in boys. It was all so clichéd that it was hard to express. But there was actually a very good grand piano in the assembly hall and Benjamin had been given permission to use it for his daily exercises after a short audition. He had not yet met his roommate. He wasn't due to return to university until a week later because of some family business. Benjamin was hoping for someone who was also interested in classical music and expressionism. Or at least someone who was also studying literature, art history or something similar.

It was the night from Saturday to Sunday when the door opened with a huge crash at around 02:00. Someone threw a duffel bag onto the bed and turned on the light. Benjamin blinked startled at the sudden light. He couldn't see anything against the light. But it smelled of sweat and a few other things he couldn't identify. The shadow took off his shirt, threw it on the floor and sat down on the other bed. Benjamin's eyes adjusted to the light and he began to recognize something.

"Well howdy, you must be Ben. I'm Hunter, no lie, that's my name, partner. Shoo, it ain't even 2 o'clock yet. What in tarnation are ya doin' in bed?" Benjamin was disgusted. He would have to share the room with a redneck. He turned around and mumbled, “Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to sleep.” Hunter just said, “Well, that’s on you if ya overlook somethin’, darlin’,” rummaged in his duffel bag and disappeared again. It must have been around 04:00 when he returned. Now it also smelled of booze. Benjamin pretended to be asleep, even though Hunter was making a lot of noise. After he had finished clearing out his things, Benjamin heard him burp loudly a few more times. And soon he was snoring.

When Benjamin's alarm clock rang at 07:00, Hunter was still snoring. He was lying naked on the comforter. Benjamin had to admit with envy that he was well trained. His butt was firm. His upper body was deeply tanned and Hunter was pale below the waist. A guy who worked out in the fresh air. Benjamin's cock got hard. He quickly grabbed his scrubs and headed for the washrooms. He wanted to be at the Georgia Museum of Art early. When he returned to his room, freshly showered, Hunter was lying awake on his bed. Jerking off his morning wood. “Well, howdy there, early riser! Ain't that somethin'! You fixin' to hit the pavement for a run?” Benjamin turned around, embarrassed. Because he didn't want to disturb Hunter while he was wanking. And because his own cock was leaking precum into his boxer shorts. “No thanks, I wanted to go to the museum.” “Real neat, we got one 'round these parts? Been here a whole year and didn’t even know. Might just tag along next time, if y'know what I mean.” “That would be nice,” Benjamin replied as he hurriedly got dressed and left the room. He had to go to the washrooms again before he went to the museum. He really needed to wank. He thought about Hunter.

He wasn't really focused in the museum. At the beginning, he made sketches of the halls and the works of art on display. He was actually surprised by the quality. There were top-class works here. But when he caught himself doodling a stag in his notebook the third time, he decided that he would probably be better off getting some fresh air. He took his rucksack out of his locker and left the museum. The fresh air did him good. Benjamin walked along Campus Road. He passed the Georgia Museum of Natural History. It was still early. He went inside.

Natural history wasn't really his hobby. But Benjamin was fascinated by the dioramas of the local animal world. He enthusiastically made sketches of the deer. Why the hell had he already made them at the art museum? And why were the deer he was drawing now often hunted prey? He probably just couldn't get Hunter out of his head. He was getting a hard-on again. Benjamin made his way back to the dormitory. Hunter and he hadn't got off to a good start. But now he would like to put that right.

"Down at th’ park wit’ the boys, tossin’ sum balls ‘round. Y’all come on by if ya wanna join!" The note was on Ben's pillow. There was a lot else lying around the room. It was as if a bomb had gone off. Hunter was obviously not the tidiest of people. There was a camouflage T-shirt on the floor. Benjamin pressed it to his face. It smelled of sweat and masculinity. He couldn't help it. He had to jerk off again. This time it came with unexpected force. Shit, on the floor, on the bed, his cum was everywhere. He took one of his dirty towels from the laundry basket and tried to clean it up as best he could. And then he made his way to the park. He had to watch Hunter play football with his buddies.

Benjamin had to search a bit to find Hunter and his friends. But it was worth it. A gang of young rednecks in the prime of their youth, on their way to becoming real men. Their muscles were glistening with sweat, their mullets sticking wet to their heads. “Yo, Ben!” Hunter shouted when he saw Benjamin. Benjamin was amazed that Hunter had recognized him. Hunter ran up to him and did a fist bump, which Benjamin returned somewhat awkwardly. “Hey there, what in tarnation are ya doin’ just standin’ ‘round like a bump on a log? Get yourself changed and hit that field!” Benjamin said that he had nothing to change into. “Floyd, you knucklehead! You got your gym gear?” Hunter yelled across the pitch. He, who was presumably Floyd, yelled back “Sure thing!”. Hunter went to a bag and threw it to Benjamin. “Here ya go, this oughta fit ya, Big fella!” Benjamin was a little embarrassed to just change in the open field. But there was no turning back now. The last time he had played football was five years ago. And he had been bad. Really bad. Now he was standing on a field in sweaty, oversized clothes belonging to a guy he didn't know called Floyd and had to play football with a guy he hardly knew, but had already wanked off on twice today. The ball flew towards him. Benjamin caught it with a leap. “To me!” roared Hunter. And with a powerful and precise pass, the ball flew to Hunter. “Bloody hell!” thought Benjamin.

The sun was about to set. The boys were lying on the grass, drinking some kind of isotonic thirst quencher. They had all taken off their shirts. Hunter's head was on Benjamin's stomach. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, buddy! You best be chowin' down more and hittin' them weights less. That belly of yours ain’t got no softness to cuddle up to!” “In your dreams!” replied Benjamin, tousling Hunter's wet hair. Damn, he was well on his way to becoming a jock... Benjamin and Hunter spent the evening together, when the sun went down, they went to the movies and then out for a burger. Benjamin had never spent a Sunday like this before. It felt wrong. But it felt so good!

The next morning, Hunter's alarm clock rang at 05:30. “Dude, running and gym!” he said as he shook Benjamin awake. Benjamin had done more sport yesterday than he had ever done in his life. But without argument, he put on Floyd's dirty and sweaty clothes and the two of them set off. Benjamin actually had his first lecture at 08:30. English poetry of the 19th century. But he couldn't leave Hunter to bench press on his own. And so it was 09:00 when he arrived in the lecture hall. In his sweaty gym clothes. Without his homework. His professor asked him to join her after the lecture to explain to him clearly that this was not the performance she expected. And that he would stink. Benjamin raised his arm and took a deep breath from his armpit. “You're damn right,” he said, nodding appreciatively. His cell phone vibrated. “Fucc dude, 4got my laptop.  Bring it by, bruh. Warnell school of 4estry and natural resources” Benjamin knew where that was. Behind the natural history museum. Next lecture wasn't for another hour. Benjamin sprinted home, grabbed the computer from Hunter's desk and ran into the department. “I'm at the entrance, bro,” he wrote. ‘Cum 2 the library,’ Hunter replied. Benjamin followed the signs. Floyd was waiting outside the library. “Hey y'all, thanks a million! You’re a real lifesaver for Hunter and me. And I gotta say, them clothes are lookin' sharp. And that mullet? Pure gold!” Benjamin blushed and said that he would do the washing today and Floyd would bring the clothes back clean tomorrow. Floyd laughed and said that they had only been on for a week, a bit early to wash them. Benjamin joined in the laughter and headed off to his next lecture. Bloody hell, what had Floyd said. Mullet? What mullet? He ran his fingers through his hair sweaty from running. It was sticking to the back of his neck. Benjamin searched for a window pane to look at his reflection. Shit, he had a similar hairstyle to the boys.

Tuesday morning was Hunter and Ben's first lecture, “Ecosystems and Habitat management” in Professor Castleberry's Wildlife Ecology and Management class. They both got quite a telling off for missing the first lecture the previous week. Hunter's excuse was that he couldn't leave his parents' hunting lodge because of the storm. The story of how the bridge had been washed away sounded super realistic. Ben had to bite his tongue not to laugh out loud. He knew that Hunter simply hadn't wanted to leave without killing the big stag. Ben's excuse was less original. The fact that he was wrongly enrolled in art history and literature led to great laughter in the lecture hall. A guy with “corn-fed Midwestern boy” literally tattooed on his forehead couldn't be in a worse place than in a lecture on 19th century English poetry. Luckily, the two best buddies were given two adjacent seats. They hadn't showered after the gym today either. Very few of their fellow students wanted to sit next to them. But it was their lucky day anyway. Although the registration deadline had actually already passed, they both still got a place on the excursion to the “Population biology and ecology” field trip at the weekend. They could hardly wait for Friday. Finally a chance to get some fresh air and hopefully a good piece of game. Their hunting rifles were already threatening to rust.

A few of his fellow students knew that his real name was Ben. But everyone here called him Buck. Hunter and Buck. It just went together. The two of them studied together, pumped iron together, played football together. They hunted together. And yes, they also fucked together. But only without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

Pics by @ki-kink

[hivemuthur]

If it’s okay to request, may I request hcs or something with Viktor where he’s dating an autisc reader?

Okay, first of - I have no idea what I have done to be granted such trust, thank you so much Anon! I have been provided amazing advice from @rennethen while writing this and done some research and I hope, I hope, I hope it meets expectations.

ViktorXAutistic!Reader HeadCannons

viktorxgn!reader mature, fluff and again: Viktor setting impossible standards for real-life men

author’s note: I have decided to not include tics, as they come in so many variations and I didn't want to impose anything upon Readers, but I can imagine Viktor being a total sweetheart about them.

word count: 1,4K

—

Since your first meeting, Viktor has been smitten with your bluntness and your ability to take his acrimonious jokes apart without a hint of incredulity in your voice. The way you keep asking subsidiary questions until you dig through the layers of his sass to the actual thing he meant to say  leaves his soul naked as day, every single time. Finally, an inquisitive mind, he thinks to himself, as you go for the killing blow:

“So, what you’ve meant to say is that you find me attractive?”

“Eh, I suppose that is what I meant,” he admits dumbly, scratching the back of his neck. “Though usually I tend to be a little bit less straight forward.”

“I prefer straight forward,” you tell him with wide eyes.

“I… I shall remember that.”

Viktor soon realises that being asked a lot of questions makes him blush in a funny way and his chest gets all fuzzy. So, he begins to share every little aspect of his work with you. The more questions you ask, the warmer his heart gets and somehow the way you get excited about his ideas is worth more than any other academical pat on the back he ever received.

Before asking you out for the first time, Viktor conducts a thorough research, not very different to the ones he conducts for the sake of a thesis. He finds out what are your favourite places and favourite spots to sit. He books two reservations, just in case.

He does the same thing when you try out a new place. Just in case. It has proven useful only once.

As a man who values routine, he finds it absolutely endearing that good things remain in your orbit for a long time and discovers that being greeted with his own name by the barista is actually a nice little feeling.

When he asked you if he could kiss you for the first time, he held his breath while you were reconsidering. He found it hard not to laugh stupidly and nod his head a couple times too many when you responded with the same question.

He cupped your face and brushed his thumb on your lip tentatively. At first, he just rubbed his nose against yours. Then, his cheek, as he pulled you closer. You decided his hair smelled nice and that he could proceed. You didn’t know what to do with your hands at first, because he was wearing an incredibly itchy jumper, so you settled on his neck, and he took it as an invitation to kiss you deeper.

When you told him about it he gave the jumper to Caitlyn, and even though the sleeves are not long enough for her, she wears it often. Gradually, Viktor is in the process of exchanging his wardrobe to touch-friendly materials, currently he is half-way through. He wears the offensive clothes to meetings with Jayce, because Jayce will hug even a hedgehog.

You teach Viktor the value of comfort, not just in the clothing department. Suddenly he finds that his blankets are softer and that his flat increased the base number of cushions.

He religiously cuts the tags out of your clothes and his work is so precise it’s as if the tag was never there in the first place.

Viktor will still periodically ask for a permission to touch you, only to hear “Yes, please.” And it still makes him blush.

He keeps two notebooks—one on your current food fixations. He writes down a start date of each and marks every little alteration. He examines the lifecycle of each dish, as you eat it every day for a month and suddenly stop, to move on to the next one. On the back of the notebook he has a list of old reliables.

The second notebook, he treats more seriously—it’s a journal of stimming. He makes a note of each gesture in order to recognize your emotions better. After a while he is able to tell if you are feeling overwhelmed, just excited or trying to concentrate.

He is completely bemused by the fact that you always know what entered the bowl first—the cereal or the milk.

When you unconsciously repeat words back at him in his accent he makes it intentionally heavier, because he finds in unbearably cute.

After some time, he’s learned to recognise when you are masking. When it happened for the first time, he allowed himself a pinch of panic. Only when you unravelled at home, he sighed, partially relieved, and made a note of it in his journal.

Viktor carries a pair of noise cancelling headphones when you go out together. He puts them on you if you get overstimulated and presents you with something else to shift your focus into—a tight hug, a smell or he presses gently on your shoulders to steady you.

If you happen to have a meltdown at either of your homes, he wordlessly prepares you your favourite food and stays close enough for you to reach. Sometimes, he does a full body scan with you, to see which part requires the most attention.

There are certain sounds that Viktor makes which you particularly like—the click of his tongue, the intercepting ‘ehs’ and ‘ahs’—and once he connects the dots between him making those and a smile that always blooms on your face, he produces as many as he can, while still sounding natural.

He enjoys just existing with you. Sitting in the same room, while he works, and you read is his definition of a happy place. Just glancing over to you, your tongue filling your cheek as you read something particularly interesting, the small sounds you make at turning points in the story make his heart flutter.

He finds himself involuntarily memorizing the lyrics of the songs you play on repeat. He has no idea who the artist are, but he knows their songs by heart now. It makes him feel old, in a funny way.

It completely disarms him, when you return his gifts. After three futile attempts to give you something of popular romantic demand, he scolded himself for not changing the method soon enough. Instead of jewellery, he encourages your special interests, through getting you books on the topics or taking you places that embody your passions.

On the other side of the coin, your gifts are deeply appreciated. Every little pebbling trinket has it’s special place in the box on his desk. He takes them out periodically and counts how many times a tiny detail in the chaos of the outside world has made you think of him.

For dates, Viktor chooses times and days in which the world is less crowded. Instead of a busy Saturday night, you go out in the middle of the week. After a particularly failed attempt of gifting you perfume, Viktor takes you to a balm perfume workshop, where you can make scents for each other that are buildable and unoffensive to sensitive skin.

He’s built an intimacy with you that is based on trust and constant checking. He takes care of the mood and gives you enough stops to reconsider on the way.

You both talk a lot during sex. A change of mind is natural and there is enough space made for it. He has learned a lot about himself, and his self-esteem strengthened, when he realised that, ‘I don’t like it,’ doesn’t mean ‘I don’t like you.’

If, for whatever reason, the communication turns nonverbal, you both have come up with a system of pats that signals where each of you should direct your attention.

Your inquisitive mind helped him find three additional positions, in which he feels comfortable and painless, and it eludes him entirely how he could have missed them.

Viktor’s favourite part of aftercare is cuddling you naked. He adores the way your warm body melts into his. If you add head scratches to it, he will fall asleep in your arms. He breaths in the smell of your hair and his heart beat evens out with yours.

[pencil-n-pen]

hii! i hope you are doing well. i love your overworked series so much. it's very relatable to me on what the circumstances the reader is in and all i do eat the series all up(munch munch) how about like a study date for them? that would be cute

Hello honey !! Thank you so much for this request, I was so excited to write it <3 Hope you enjoy!

STUDY OR DATE

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄ ౨ৎ ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠄⠂

summary: you ask Leon to go on a study date with you at a coffee shop. Things don’t go as planned, but work out just fine in the end.

cw: i think this qualifies as a drabble not a oneshot it’s short :( but sweet :) sorry some angst slipped in there, one of Leon’s ex friends says some kind of mean things about you but Leon comes to your defense, honestly that’s it this is pretty fluffy

a/n: i just know leon absolutley slams those frou frou coffee drinks. i say this as a frou frou coffee drink enjoyer

no the Baby I'm Yours reference was not intentional

masterlist | previous (not actually a SERIES series, just takes place in the same universe)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was you who proposed the idea of a study date.

"I think it might be nice," You'd said, staring at your shoes and shuffling in place as people file out of the last class of your day- the one you share with Leon. "I usually study by myself, but I think it would be good to... get out of my room, for a bit. Um. And then we could study together?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

This is one of his current favorite sentences. "Training you to stand your ground, princess. Nothing bad is gonna happen when you do."

You squeeze the strap of your backpack. "Telling...? But also asking, because I don't know if you're free."

"Even if I did have plans I would cancel them. Where were thinking of going?"

A burst of heat rises to your face. "That cafe? Near the east side of campus?"

He leans down, giving you a quick peck on the nose. "I think that's a great idea."

The walk to the cozy cafe isn't too long, but it is cold. You shamelessly use the winter chill as an excuse to cuddle up to Leon.

"As if you need one," He mumbles, squeezing you close to him.

When you arrive to the shop, the bell dinging signifying your entrance, Leon tugs at the backpack on your shoulder.

"Gimme that. I'll snag us a table that has outlets. Order something for me?"

You don’t have to look to know the hand in front of you has his credit card in it. And you know better than to refuse. He likes spending money on you, for whatever reason. You’re not complaining, really, it just eats at you a little bit. Just a little.

But it’s also really, really, really sweet. The kindness tends to override the guilt, in his case.

For yourself, you order exactly what you want- Leon has a second sense for when you order something that's for the sake of preserving money rather than what you actually want. You'd asked him once where his seemingly never-ending supply of money came from, but he'd just kissed you on the forehead and told you not to worry about it. You kind of still worry about it, but never enough for him to notice.

For Leon, you order exactly what he wants but will never admit to liking- an iced caramel macchiato. The way coffee shops like Starbucks make them, not the traditional way. More milk and sugar than coffee. It's funny watching him slug his way through black coffee with a splash of milk when you know for a fact the milky, sugary coffee drinks never last longer than about five minutes when they're in front of him.

The cafe isn't that crowded, so it doesn't take long for your drinks to be ready. You take them from the bar with a thanks, then slide into the table Leon snagged for you.

His eyes catch on the drink.

"What is that?"

"An iced caramel macchiato."

"And why, exactly, did you order that for me?"

"Because you like them."

"No I-"

"Don't even pretend."

He takes the drink with a grumble, but reaches across the table and squeezes your hand once, a quiet thank you.

You take a sip of your own drink, then take your supplies out of your backpack and get to work.

You work fairly quietly, Leon occasionally sliding random snacks he, apparently, just keeps with him across the table to you. At one point, he gets up and returns with a plate that has a few of the pastries you were eyeing earlier on it. How he even knew exactly which ones you wanted is a mystery to you.

An hour or so after he gets the pastries, the bell dings, signifying someone's entrance.

"No way! Leon, is that you?"

Leon's face twists into something sour and angry, and a small stab of apprehension slices through your chest as the voice is accompanied by approaching feet.

"Josh," Leon says evenly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "Haven't seen you in awhile. On purpose."

You turn, eyeing the man that's standing behind you, a few other guys standing a little ways behind him, all leering for a glance.

The Josh in question just laughs. "Oh, whatever Leon," His gaze catches on your face and his eyes widen.

"No way. Are you seriously here with the pretentious--"

"You mean my girlfriend?" Leon leans forward in his seat, his jaw set and his fists clenched where they rest on the table. "Be very careful about your next words."

Girlfriend?

Josh blinks. "I meant nothing by it, man. I'm just surprised to see you here with her, is all."

Leon looks absolutely murderous. "And why would that be?"

"Just because, you know. We always talked about how annoying her attitude was. And that rivalry thing you guys had."

"I remember ditching you guys when you started ragging on her, yeah. Fuck off, Josh."

Josh raises his hands. "Jeez, okay man. I was just surprised. You're seriously choosing that girl over us?"

"This woman, yes. We were never friends like that. Forgive me if I prefer being with someone who doesn't make me consider the legality of finishing a college degree in prison."

Josh seems upset by Leon's statement, but Leon holds his ground. He jerks his head towards the rest of the gaggle. "Go."

Josh scampers away, metaphorical tail between his legs.

Leon immediately turns to you, brows furrowed in concern and body un-tensing. "Are you okay? Did he upset you? Do I need to kill him?"

You blurt out the first and only thing you got from that entire exchange.

"I'm your girlfriend?"

He re-tenses.

"Do you... not want to be?"

"No!" You shout, a little too loudly, because Josh and his friends look back over, but the ensuing glare from you and Leon is enough for them to look away so quickly you think you hear Josh’s neck pop.

"No," you say quietly, "I um. I'd really like to be your girlfriend. I just. I didn't know what we were."

He gets that fond look in his eyes again. The one he gets before he says something sappy.

"Baby," He says, reaching across the table and grabbing your hand. "I"m yours. I mean that. I didn't formally ask you out because I figured you wanted to take things slow."

"I did. At first."

He smiles. "Then princess, my princess, may I please be your boyfriend?"

You can't help the giddy giggle the escapes your mouth. "Yes."

"Oh thank god," He says, wiping fake sweat off his brow. "It would've been awkward to have a heart attack and die in this cafe."

"That seems a bit extreme."

"Not really. Have you seen my girlfriend? Cardiac events are a normal reaction, I assure you."

You don't get much studying done for the rest of the day.

--

After that, there is a noticeable increase in study dates and date-dates. Leon is weirdly good at picking date spots and ideas.

The first time he introduces you as his girlfriend at a party, Ada shouts so loudly you think she might burst someone's eardrum. Your roommates all squeal with excitement when you tell them.

Chris, being Chris, says "Weren't you already dating?" when Leon tells him the news. That seems to be the general consensus.

You're on another study date right now, Leon's face doing that cute little scrunch thing when he's thinking about a math problem, and you set your pencil down just to stare at him.

He's your boyfriend.

You're his girlfriend.

He looks up at you, chewing on the end of his pencil. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No," You say, a little breathless. "M' just looking at my boyfriend."

He grins, leaning across the table to give you a kiss, soft and slow.

You're normally not one for PDA.

But maybe you'll allow it. For your boyfriend.

ᯓ✦

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

You sat at the table, doing your best to appear interested as your date droned on about his latest work achievements. Something about managing accounts, sealing big deals, and being “essential” to the success of his company. You’d lost track of the details five minutes in, your polite smile starting to feel like a workout for your face.

“…but you wouldn’t get that,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, like you were a child. “Teaching kids and all. It’s like... coloring books and snack time, right?”

Your smile faltered, and you tightened your grip on the stem of your wine glass, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “Not quite. It’s actually pretty challenging—teaching is about shaping young minds, not just... crayons.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, nodding like he wasn’t really listening. “But you have to admit, it’s not exactly high stakes.” He leaned back in his chair, a smug grin stretching across his face. “I mean, no offense.”

“None taken,” you replied tightly, though the bile creeping up your neck said otherwise. You took a slow sip of your wine, hoping the glass might serve as a buffer between his words and your patience. Spoiler: it wasn’t working.

Inwardly, you cursed yourself for agreeing to this. What had Ava said when she pitched the idea? “Girl, you’re way too cute to be single and wasting away in that apartment of yours. You need to get out there. Shake things up. And this guy? Total catch—tall, successful, and probably rich. You’re welcome.”

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Ava’s relentless confidence had rubbed off on you, and the idea of putting yourself out there sounded... productive, if not promising. After all, your secret crush on your cute neighbor wasn’t going anywhere.

Carmy.

You couldn’t help but think about him as Ben prattled on about his “huge network.” Carmy was quiet, focused, and sweet in a way you didn’t think he realized. But he was also impossible to read. Sure, you’d had a few conversations here and there, shared a laugh or two, but he’d never made a move. You hadn’t either—paralyzed by the thought of misinterpreting things and embarrassing yourself.

Which is how you’d ended up here, with Ben. Wonderful, condescending Ben, who clearly thought your life’s work was a joke.

“And this place,” Ben said, gesturing around the restaurant with a smug grin. “Pretty great, right? Super exclusive. I know a guy who knows the chef here. Heard he’s like, a genius or something. Figured we’d go all out.”

You glanced around the dimly lit space, suddenly more aware of the upscale decor—the polished wood tables, the soft amber glow of the overhead lights, and the quiet hum of conversation that seemed to fill the air like music. It was... fancier than you’d expected.

The Bear.

You’d heard of it, of course—who hadn’t? It was one of those places people raved about, where getting a reservation was an accomplishment in itself. The kind of place where you know the food would be incredible, but the bill would make you question your life choices. Nice, but you were pretty sure you could only afford, like, a cup of water here.

Ben leaned in closer, grinning smugly. “This chef guy? Supposedly some kind of prodigy. I don’t know the details, but people say he’s a big deal. Good thing I’ve got connections, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, noncommittal, as you glanced toward the bustling kitchen. A wave of heat and light spilled out from behind the pass, where you could just make out the shadowed figures of chefs moving in synchronized chaos.

As you sipped from your wine glass, trying to find something redeemable about Ben’s endless self-promotion, you wondered if maybe Ava had oversold this whole “dating adventure” thing.

Carmy spotted you the second you walked in.

He’d been at the pass, focused on plating an intricate dish—a delicate arrangement of seared scallops and edible flowers—when his gaze drifted toward the dining room. His hands paused mid-motion, a faint crease forming between his brows as he recognized you.

You were hard to miss, sitting near the window in a corner booth, your posture poised but just slightly tense. Dressed in something a little sleeker than usual, you looked... different. Not in a bad way—never in a bad way— Not that you ever looked anything less than beautiful, but tonight, something about you seemed… striking, enough that he found himself staring longer than he should’ve.

His eyes flicked to the guy sitting across from you. The guy who was laughing too loud, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place, gesturing with wild hands as he talked. You, on the other hand, wore a polite smile that didn’t quite light up the room as it usually did.

Carmy’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure why the sight of you with someone else tugged at his chest the way it did, but it lingered, heavy and unwelcome.

It’s none of your business, he told himself, forcing his focus back to the dish in front of him. You weren’t his to worry about.

You weren’t his at all.

Still, his gaze flicked back toward your table, almost involuntarily, catching the way your date seemed oblivious to your discomfort. Carmy’s stomach twisted at the thought. He didn’t know what he expected—maybe for the guy to notice the way you played with your napkin or to tone down his boisterous tone—but it wasn’t this.

“Chef?” Sydney’s voice broke his focus, sharp but professional.

“Yeah,” he muttered, snapping back to reality. His eyes returned to the plate in front of him, the arrangement now slightly skewed from his distraction. He adjusted it quickly, his movements precise but tighter than usual. “Thanks, Chef.”

As Sydney moved on, Carmy risked one last glance at you. The corner booth, the dim lighting, the guy who couldn’t seem to shut up—it all felt wrong. But he pushed it down, buried it under the quiet rhythm of the kitchen, telling himself it wasn’t his place to care.

And yet, he did.

He cared enough to, like some kind of creep, step out of the kitchen and hover near the hallway that led to the restrooms. It wasn’t a plan—not really. He told himself he just needed a breather, a moment to clear his head and shake off the knot in his chest. But he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself.

The low hum of the restaurant buzzed in his ears as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn’t even know what he’d say if you saw him. Maybe he’d play it off, and act like he just happened to be there. But then, what were the odds you’d even notice him? You were here with someone else, after all.

It was ridiculous, he knew that—irrational even— he should go back, really what the fuck was he thinking--

But the sound of heels clicking softly against the floor pulled him from his spiralling thoughts. His breath hitched as you turned the corner, and your expression turned to one of shock when you spotted him.

“Carmy?” you said, stopping mid-step. Your voice carried a note of surprise, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe, or even relief at seeing a familiar face in such an unfamiliar situation.

“Hey,” he said, standing a little straighter, as if he hadn’t just been loitering near the hallway like a guilty teenager. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You blinked, your eyes flicking over his clothes—the crisp white uniform. The realization dawned on you, and your brows lifted in surprise.

“You work here?”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting his weight slightly. “I, uh... I own it.”

Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “You own it?”

“Yeah,” he said again, a bit softer this time. His lips twitched into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “I started it a while back. Kind of… a long story.”

You took a moment to process this revelation, glancing around the restaurant as if seeing it in a new light. The warm lighting, the carefully plated dishes you’d glimpsed on their way to other tables—it all made sense now. Of course, this was Carmy’s place. It was thoughtful, deliberate, but somehow unpretentious.

“Wow,” you said, meeting his gaze again. “That’s... impressive.”

Carmy shrugged, his hands slipping into his pockets. “It’s just work. Nothing fancy.”

“Nothing fancy?” you repeated, a small laugh escaping as you gestured toward the elegant decor. “Carmy, this place is gorgeous. You’re way too modest.”

"Thanks," His lips twitched into a faint smile, but his eyes lingered on you, searching before he added, “You didn’t look like you were having a great time out there.”

You blinked at the sudden change in topic, your surprise melting into something closer to embarrassment.

“Oh,” you said, glancing toward the dining room before meeting his gaze again. “Yeah, it’s... it’s a date.”

Carmy’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, though his expression didn’t waver.

“Figured,” he muttered, his voice steady but low.

“Not a great one,” you admitted, your lips quirking into a dry smile. “Blind date, courtesy of Ava. It’s... fine, I guess. He’s just... not my type.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What’s your type, then?”

The question caught you off guard, your breath hitching slightly as his words hung in the air. You laughed softly, deflecting. “I don’t know. Someone who doesn’t treat teaching like it’s a hobby or call it a job anyone can do.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk, and he shook his head in disbelief. “He did not say that.”

You groaned dramatically, closing your eyes as if the memory physically pained you. “Oh, but he did. Word for word, and I quote: ‘Teaching is important, I guess. But it’s gotta be, like… easy, right? Summers off, finger painting, all that?’ And then—then!—he laughed. Like he’d just unlocked the secret to stand-up comedy.”

Carmy blinked, his smirk fading into something closer to incredulity. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” you said, sighing dramatically. “You’d think he was trying out his Type Five for open mic night. And the pièce de résistance? He throws in the classic ‘no offense.’ Like that’s a verbal Ctrl+Z or something.”

That earned a real laugh from Carmy this time, his shoulders shaking slightly as he shook his head. “What the hell? So, this is what you’re dealing with?”

“Oh, but I’m thriving,” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm waving your hand dismissively. “Peak romantic energy. Nothing like being told my career is a glorified arts-and-crafts workshop to really get the sparks flying.”

Carmy leaned slightly against the wall, crossing his arms as he listened. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—irritation, maybe, or quiet disbelief. “And you’re still out there?”

“Excellent question, Chef Carmy,” you said, pointing at him with mock gravity. “I think it’s a mix of morbid curiosity, sheer stubbornness, and maybe a touch of guilt. I mean, he did spring for the wine. Even if he did refer to it as a ‘top-shelf pour.’”

That made Carmy snort, his head dropping slightly as he tried to compose himself. “Top-shelf pour, huh? Sounds like a real charmer.”

You laughed softly, though there was a bite of bitterness in it. “Oh, totally. It’s been a real dream date. Honestly, if he makes one more crack about teaching being ‘easy,’ I might just—” You mimed strangling someone, your hands curling dramatically as you added a mock growl for effect.

Carmy chuckled, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you shot back, your grin sharpening. “It might get me out of this date, but I’m pretty sure assault charges aren’t a great look for me.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point.”

Your playful energy dimmed slightly as you glanced toward the dining room. “Anyway, I should probably get back out there before he starts mansplaining the wine list to the waitress. Again.”

Carmy’s lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh, but instead, he straightened up quickly, the weight of his role as head chef settling back onto his shoulders. “Yeah, I should... head back to the kitchen too. Got a lot to wrap up tonight.”

You turned back to him, your expression softening. “Thanks, by the way,” you said, holding his gaze. “For... checking in, I guess. You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged a gesture that looked casual but felt like it carried more weight. His voice dropped slightly as he replied, “Yeah, I did.”

The words hung there for a beat, his meaning lingering just beneath the surface as the two of you locked eyes. The air between you felt heavy, almost tangible, like a thread being pulled taut. You wanted to say something—anything. Maybe a joke to break the tension, or maybe the truth: that you liked him, that you wished it was him sitting across from you tonight, making you laugh instead of testing your patience.

Unbeknownst to you, Carmy’s thoughts ran dangerously close to yours. He’d been replaying every interaction with you since the day you moved in next door, every laugh, every casual smile. The thought of you with someone else—someone who didn’t seem to notice the little things about you the way he did—made his chest tighten in ways he couldn’t explain.

But before either of you could give voice to the thoughts swirling in your heads, the faint sound of your date’s voice carried through the hallway, breaking the moment like a needle scratching across a record. You winced slightly, the weight of reality pulling you back.

“Ugh. That’s my cue,” you said, shooting Carmy an exaggerated grimace. “Duty calls.”

Carmy nodded, his expression carefully neutral, though the flicker in his eyes betrayed the emotions he was trying to keep in check. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks,” you said with a wry grin. “I’ll need it.”

Despite his words, his gaze lingered on yours, as if searching for something unspoken. For a moment, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d say something more, but instead, he stepped back, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“See you around,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, your heart squeezing as you turned to head back toward the dining room. “See you around.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were leaving something unfinished behind. And Carmy, watching you go, felt much the same, his hands flexing at his sides as he fought the urge to call after you.

When he finally turned back toward the kitchen, his jaw tightened, the moment still playing over in his mind. He rubbed the back of his neck, willing himself to focus as he pushed open the swinging door. The familiar clatter and hum of the kitchen greeted him, but it did little to drown out the thoughts circling his head.

He barely made it three steps before Richie appeared, leaning casually against the counter with his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Richie drawled, crossing his arms. “What’s the matter, Cousin? Lose track of time out there? Or were you too busy making googly eyes at the customer? Can't blame you thought, she's gorgeous.”

Carmy’s jaw ticked, his shoulders stiffening. “Shut up, Richie.”

--------

Your date’s voice droned on, a monotonous background noise to your growing sense of regret. Why had you agreed to this? Why hadn’t you just stayed home with a glass of wine and a good book?

Just as you were contemplating an excuse to leave—feigning a sudden headache, maybe, or an urgent call from a friend—a waiter approached your table. It wasn’t the same one who had been serving you throughout the evening, but an older guy with an easy smile and a glimmering of mischief in his eyes carrying a small plate in hand. The plate held an assortment of beautifully arranged pastries, each one delicate and intricate, like a tiny work of art.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you said, your brow furrowing as you looked up at him.

“It’s from the chef,” the waiter replied, his tone polite but with a glimmer of something knowing in his eyes.

Your eyes widened slightly, your breath catching as you glanced instinctively toward the kitchen pass. Sure enough, Carmy was there, leaning slightly against the counter, his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his gaze was fixed squarely on you.

Your heart gave a little jolt, heat creeping up your neck as you turned back to the table.

Your date, meanwhile, was entirely oblivious to the silent exchange. He grinned widely, puffing out his chest a little as he gestured to the plate. “See? Told you this place was top-notch. They must’ve recognized me. Perks of being a regular.”

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing. Instead, you bit back your amusement, your lips twitching into a barely restrained smile as you reached for one of the pastries.

“Right,” you said lightly, turning the pastry over in your hand. “Must be your VIP status.”

As you took a bite, the pastry practically melted in your mouth, a perfect blend of buttery richness and delicate sweetness. It was so good it almost made you forget the company you were keeping—almost.

“You know, this kind of attention doesn’t happen just anywhere. It’s all about knowing the right people.”

“Mmm,” you murmured, taking a bite of one of the delicate confections. It melted in your mouth, rich and buttery, with just the right amount of sweetness.

When you glanced back toward the pass, Carmy was already gone, disappearing back into the kitchen as seamlessly as he’d appeared. But his gesture lingered, wrapping around you like a quiet reassurance, a small thread of comfort in an otherwise unbearable evening.

And for the first time that night, your smile wasn’t forced.

A/N: Heyyy I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to all those people who comment, like and reblog. Like fr you all make my week. Always looking for some ideas so please feel free to ask.

Also, please tell me if you want to be tagged. Be safe out there, please the world is too crazy at the moment. <3

Tags:

@hiitsmebbygrl16 @urthem00n @svzwriting29 @tyferbebe

@akornsworld @khxna @ruthyalva96 @beingalive1

@darkestbeforethedawn16 @turtle-cant-communicate spideybv28 veryberryjelly @daisy-the-quake

[am-i-interrupting]

Helllooooo!!! I was wondering if you could maybe write something of Silco x Reader where reader suffers from headaches and he gives them a shoulder/head massage 👀 it’s can be fluffy, sensual, sexual…. However you want!! Xoxo!!!😘

Scattering Tension

With Silco’s busy schedule and chaotic life, one would assume he was the one who needed the constant care in any relationship. Did he need to be pulled to bed? Yes. Did he need to be reminded to eat? Occasionally. However, that was not the case.

He was actually a very attentive lover. He was in touch with your and your body seemingly better than you were. He would be able to spot the signs before you and drag you away to rest before things got bad.

Today was one of those days. You were unable to focus. Everything just went through one ear, around the boiling pain, and then right out the other.

The pain was behind your eye. It carved through the tissue into your brain. You could feel the blood rushing through your veins and the pain pulsed with it. It wounded its way into your teeth. The muscles of your jaw pulled tight. That tautness went down the back of your neck and into the tissues of your shoulders.

You felt a pair of cold, long fingers press into your temples. The pressure forced apart nerves. A moment of relief was granted to you as they no longer bounced against one another.

You leaned back. A soft chuckle was given in reply.

Two fingers pressed against your temples. Another two curled at the connection of your jaw. The knuckles dug into the tight muscles. A thumb was behind your ear. It was soft and caressing in comparison to the pressure of the other fingers.

“You work yourself too hard,” Silco’s voice said.

His chin brushed against your hair but you could still smell the smoke and ash on his breath. It brought you comfort.

You wanted to give some witty reply about a pot and a kettle or something of the sort but the knuckles which worked your jaw were too nice to part with. Instead you simply groaned.

The fingertips at your temples moved further down. They rubbed at the soft tissue until they met the hardness of your cheekbone. They passed beneath your eye and down.

The knuckles left your jaw but not before circling up one last time to the place at the top where your muscles were gathered. A final, hard press was given to them like a farewell kiss.

You were made aware of every piece of gathered muscle, tissue, and even the veins which rolled between and through as Silco’s hands wrapped around your neck. His thumb pushed and a hum left you. The tension was slowly ebbing away. A tide of pain and pleasure came to you as it did.

“You’re too good at this,” you said.

His hands flattened. He gathered up your skin and grabbed. The flat of his hand rolled at the back of your neck. His fingers pushed into the underside of your jaw.

“What can I say? I’m good with my hands,” you could hear the sly, pleased grin on his face.

You couldn’t even retort. His was right. In all the underlaying ways he was implying, he was right. He was a man who knew how to use his hands and use them well.

[mixingandmelting]

Hii,

I'm not sure if your requests are open but I wanted to ask you if you could write a Dick Grayson x reader one where the reader is the daughter of one of Bruce's business partners and they meet at some sort of charity gala and he's instantly smitten with her.

Feel free to ignore this if you have too much to do.

Thanks ❤️

Witty, charming, and someone who matches his humor. He didn’t think he’d hit the jackpot tonight. Initially he had simply wanted to keep you company after seeing you all alone at your table. He expected either shy and sheltered or spoiled and flirty.

“A table for one at a gala?”

“What do you mean? Can’t you see I’m actually with three others?”

“Oh really? And they are…?”

“Me, myself and I.”

It comes with a pleasant surprise how the roles reverse and it’s him getting entertained by you. He lost track of how long he stayed at your table, unable to stop himself from chatting with you. You’re where the party’s at in this boring event and it confuses him how no one else has attempted to strike up a conversation with you for this long. Not that he’s complaining; he’s plenty satisfied to have you to himself. Your jokes draw genuine laughter from him while your laughter is just as infectious. The way your eyes sparkle and crinkle as you do- he rests his head onto his hand, admiring it and not wanting it to disappear. He can’t get enough. 

There’s no barrier or rich people’s behavior seen despite you introducing yourself as the daughter of one of Bruce’s many business partners and him as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son not too long ago. Not even an hour in and you both are acting as friends that haven’t seen each other in ages. Perhaps even more if he plays his cards right tonight. Take you out for a nice walk. Grab something to eat. If you’re into it, watch a movie. All of the ideas that come from him jesting about rich people never imagining or having no knowledge of what the common people do for fun only for you to snort about how else were you to learn to talk and behave like them then. 

“Earth to Dick?”

Oops. He flushes under the smirk that dances on your lips, caught red-handed for day-dreaming his date with you. Not that you’d know the last part, but still.

“Am I starting to bore you yet?”

Yet? This whole time you were trying to get rid of him? The grin you give as you take a sip of whatever’s in your flute tells him otherwise. Returning one of his own, he’s about to respond before someone behind him calls your name. 

Turning around are your parents, walking side-by-side with none other than Bruce who raises an eyebrow at him. Ugh. Great. He most definitely won’t hear the end of this one. Looking back at you, he catches a spark of wistfulness in your eyes that quickly disappears as you give him one last smile. 

“Seems like that’s my cue.”

“Wait.” He’s conscious with his grip on your arm, gentle yet firm to grab your attention. “If you’re into it, mind giving me your number and we can hang out later?”

You bite your lip when you’re thinking. Good to know; definitely something that won’t leave his mind for a while. He tries not to show how giddy he is when you extend your phone out towards him. Giving him a tiny wave, you leave while telling him you would text him. The rest of the night goes uneventful as he mingles with others, half paying attention to what they say as he continues to think about you. Others including his family who wouldn’t stop giving him crap. 

It’s once he reaches back to his place and comes out of the showers, he gets a text. Drying his hair with a towel in one hand, he looks to see your name with a sunglasses emoji under your number. His heart somersaults and he fist pumps the air. He can regret not sleeping tomorrow morning, for now all he wants is to talk to you and make the date between you and him a reality.

[lemon-berri]

Perfume

Gojo Satoru has been standing in a perfume shop for the better part of half an hour now, looking for a specific bottle. He carefully scans the shelves, cerulean eyes searching through the different labels carefully, and still he can't find it. A pout crosses his face, and he hums in dissatisfaction. Maybe they've stopped selling it? Surely not...

"Hi sir! Can I help you find something?" The sound of a shop assistant interrupts his thoughts, and he turns to find an older lady in a store uniform, smiling up at him. She'd noticed him from afar, the tall man carrying a bouquet three times the size of his head in one arm and about a dozen gift bags in the other- he was hard to miss. Now, her gaze lands on the golden band on the ring finger of his left hand, and she attempts to connect the dots. "Is it an anniversary?"

Satoru shakes his head, a proud grin replacing his earlier pout. "Nah, I don't need a special occasion to surprise my wife - though I have forgotten the name of her favourite perfume..."

"It happens all the time!" The lady reassures him. "Could you describe the scent?"

Satoru hums. "Well... its like... watching the sunset, or being embraced by warmth, or thousands of compliments, and butterflies in your stomach.."

"I..." The shop assistant nods along, trying to help despite the fact that he's describing concepts rather than scents. Not to mention he isn't making much sense.

"Wait- actually I think I have a picture." Satoru takes his phone out and the shop assistant visibly relaxes. She takes one look at the picture he shows her, already knowing where to find the particular bottle. "She has good taste.."

"Don't I know it." Satoru grins more. He purchases the bottle, watching as the shop assistant carefully wraps it and places it in a gift bag with a nice little bow. He thanks the lady before leaving the shop, satisfied with the amount of gifts he's purchased today.

The sun is already low in the sky, and day will soon turn to night, but Satoru's day is far from over. He walks with a bounce in his step, whistling to himself and earning the attention of everyone who passes him by. But he doesn't pay them any mind, he's on a mission after all. The one he loves is waiting.

This route is familiar to him, so he isn't paying much attention. His mind replays the days events instead, from teaching classes to fighting curses, to his impromptu shopping trip. Around him, blossoms have started to grow on the trees. It'll be spring soon, longer days and warmer weather, a sign of new begins and good things to come.. right?

Its dusk by the time he reaches the room.

"Hey Angel, I'm sorry I took so long today."

He places the huge bouquet of flowers in a vase on the windowsill, next to the many other floral arrangements he's bought this week- it's starting to look like a florist shop in here, but you've always liked flowers so he doesn't care much. The more the better.

"You'll never believe what happened today. Get this, I walked into class, ready to teach the first years. Only they weren't there. Turns out all of them overslept." He chuckles, taking a seat. He places the various gift bags next to the chair. "I guess it's not too surprising, given there's only three of them. But it was funny listening to the three of them running down the hallway..."

But he gets no response. You're laying on the bed in front of him, resplendent as a painting, bathed in the golden light from the window. Like a sleeping doll. Just within reach yet so far away.

It has been two months. Two months since he'd heard your voice, or seen you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. Two months since you had been sent on a mission against that strange cursed spirit, only to go missing for two days, and when they'd found you.. you'd looked just like this. Completely unharmed but unresponsive. Not a scratch on your frame, but refusing to wake up.

Nobody knew what had happened to you. And the cursed spirit had vanished. Perhaps you'd exorcised it. After all it's not natural for a curse to leave a victim unharmed and flee, especially without a trace. But then why weren't you waking up?

He was told talking to you would help. So that's what he does. It's all he can do.

"They opened a new bakery near our place. Thought I think I'll wait for you, so we can go together. Don't make me wait too long, yeah?"

Satoru comes every day, as evidenced by all the flowers and cards and gifts. When you wake up, he wants you to be surrounded by things you love, things that make you happy. You've always loved flowers.

If he's not here, or working, he spends every free moment trying to track down the curse. Or figure out what happened, some way to bring you back. Goodness knows he's tried it all.

He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest, reminding himself you're still alive. At least some part of you is still here, with him.

"You know.." his expression relaxes, eyes finally showing the sadness he's so desperately been trying to hide. "It's hard without you. The students miss you, and I do too, we're all worried about you..." he sighs.

"But don't worry about that, okay? Focus on getting better. Come back to me."

Satoru spends a few more hours here, telling you about his day, making a few jokes here and there, and filling you into the most recent episodes of the show you love. His voice fills the quiet room, and he tries to imagine what you might say if you were awake.

It's early morning by the time he leaves reluctantly, but work will start up again soon, and he has to get at least some sleep because he knows you'd be mad if you knew he wasn't resting. He leaves the gifts by your bedside. All except one bag, the small one with the little bow on the top. That one was actually a present for him.

Later, when he gets home, he'll spray a little on your side of the bed. That way, at least you'll appear in his dreams.

Seasonal depression has hit me like a truck this year. So now everyone else must suffer too. 😈

I hope you all enjoyed the angst! As usual this is not proofread, please don't point out my mistakes I'll cry.

Thank you for reading 🩵

Banners by @bunnysrph

[ashtxrie]

we stay locked in

— alternatively, enhypen as (my) high school classes!

PAIR. high school! enhypen x gn!reader (rest under cut) GENRE. humor, high school au, blurbs WORD COUNT. 1.3k total NOTES. hello enhablr i am BACK. sorry guys this is alternatively known as a super self-indulgent enhypen as my classes this year so i don’t crash out in semester 2 post

이희승 — lee heeseung

philharmonic orchestra. he’s there for the vibes (and to fulfill his performing arts graduation credit requirement) but he’s secretly super invested in music theory. the type to say “i didn’t practice at all lol” the day of the audition but still eat that shi up anyway?? people tell him to stop the cap but honestly, he has the raw talent to pull it off as well so nobody really knows. he WILL be that person clocking people who use the restroom for the nth time in the middle of the firebird suite though, but man, sometimes people really do need that bathroom break for their mental and physical wellbeing. as his stand partner, he’s really good at covering for you if you make a mistake and even takes mutual blame for coming in early even though it was definitely your fault for taking a nap during your 5-measure rest... he’s that one student who gets to conduct the orchestra when the conductor is absent (or “sick” on a vacation to disney world) and the ensemble actually respects him enough to take him seriously.

박종성 — park jongseong

ap us history. we all know this man loves history; he would actually be the type to read the textbook for fun and not just search up summary pdfs or upload the whole dang thing to chat gpt! i feel like quizlet would be his best friend and would probably terrorize all his other friends to build their quizlet flashcard streaks with him. lowk he’s just in this class so he can flex random history facts on uninformed people I’M SORRY he secretly enjoys somewhat resembling the “umm actually!” meme. but honestly you go jay, being educated IS rightfully a flex. i feel like he’d actually talk to the teacher after class just to ask a clarifying question or just to confirm something totally random; he’d be like “was there really a u.s. entomological warfare field test called operation big itch?!” and the teacher would absolutely love him for that. on practice dbq days, he’s the best person to have on your team — you know you’re set when he gives you the look and little nod that communicates that he 100% got this. 

심재윤 — sim jaeyun

ap calculus bc... THIS MAN WILL GLAZE THE HELL OUT OF AP CALCULUS BC. just like how he is adamant about his physics glazing, math is no exception. tell me why he’s legitimately taking advantage of ten minutes at the end of class to get started on his homework? put that TI-84 AWAY and look me in the eyes. he’s the one classmate who’s super nonchalant and sporty and sits in the back of the classroom, but is secretly an academic weapon. “jake sim, wonderful work. you were the only one in the class who got 100.” HELLO??? good thing you always go over to him for a post-exam debrief, because he’s basically the answer key anyway. during class, he’d be quietly doing his own thing and joking around with the people around him, but the teacher lets it slide. everyone in the class is conflicted between loving and hating him, but he’s genuinely so nice and is always eager to help the people around him who need it — that still doesn’t stop the entire class from naming him their D1 opp though! 

박성훈 — park sunghoon

ap biology. the one who spites people who obliterate the curve. he’s also the best frq peer-grader though, he’s going off of vibes! if you mention anything remotely close to the answer key, you bet he’s giving you the point because people suffer enough already. sunghoon is surprisingly good at the labs though, he managed to not kill a single fly in the mendelian genetics lab and he’s super diligent at counting them too. your other lab mates had exhaled a bit too harshly one time and the sedated flies went FLYING across the lab table from under the microscope — you swear sunghoon’s eye twitched because he had JUST sorted them all by phenotype. he didn’t say anything to them though, and just started recounting the flies again because he’s just a chill guy like that. what people don’t know about him is that he actually scores high enough to potentially set the curve, he just chooses not to raise his hand when the teacher asks for top scores because he’s #taking one for the team. what a legend. 

김선우 — kim sunoo

advanced journalism. producing a newspaper? more like an excuse to know ALL the gossip and put everything under the name of investigative journalism. it’s literally his JOB to be on top of all the school events and the niche hobbies and passions that students have, and he absolutely loves it. combined with his social personality and strong writing, he’s for sure the editor of the “spotlight” category. and honestly, he’s the best the school has had in a long time. his feedback is always something to look forward to too — as one of his staff writers, your drafts are handed back with a colored pen circling a particular phrase you used, with the words “someone cooked here” or “OH YES GIRL” written in the margins. he brings the best food for after-school mandatory work days too, from donuts to chips to canned drinks — sunoo knows that the people need the snacks in order to gain enlightenment mid-article! his pages in the newspaper are also the most visually appealing too, this man knows how to use adobe indesign. 

양정원 — yang jungwon

ap english language and composition. with how diligently he uses duolingo, i have no doubts that jungwon will succeed in ap lang. imagine if he applies that study technique to memorizing rhetorical devices? he would be reading something completely random like the instagram terms of service and going “omg wait guys this is anaphora” like okay english king. and the effort he puts in shows in his results too. when jungwon checked his grades to see a 100% on the timed write while every one of his friends complained for a whole week about getting an 80, he knew he was locked IN. he participates a lot during class discussions too, so everyone knows who he is. as a fellow #taking one for the team legend, he always agrees to be the sacrifice to share out to the class the table group’s ideas. also — something not exactly english-focused, but he’s also so alarmingly good at time management. like how is he maintaining a solid sleep schedule and clear skin while watching alchemy of souls during his pomodoro breaks? the world will never know. 

西村力 — nishimura riki

ap chemistry. hear me out he signed up for this class thinking he could blow stuff up. he did not, in fact, get to blow stuff up all year — the blowing was done instead in the form of a huge blow to this man’s gpa. like what do you mean there’s solubility rules, polyatomic ions, vsepr geometric structures and their BOND ANGLES, plus gas law equations to memorize?! he went slightly delirious mid-semester and came up with insane, unhinged references just to drill all the content into his memory, from connecting acetate (CH3CO2-) to his “esteemed rizz mentor” heeseung (3 letter e’s in his name and he breathes out CO2!) and imagining his friends on a fucking seesaw to memorize the <90 and <120 degree bond angles. he tried explaining his logic to you (rapping out the equation for the van der waals real gas law?) and you just went along with it. he actually pulled through though with a B+ at the end of it all, but he swears to never have jake in charge of his course selection ever again. 

TAGLIST: @star-sim @boyfiejay @jlheon @jwsdoll @dimplewonie @suneng @en-gelic @mygnolia

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 12]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of prior character death, mourning/ grieving, going to a grave site.

"Good afternoon. How can I hel- Hongjoong, what can I do for you? I wasn't supposed to come in today, was I?" Your eyes widened as you scrambled for your phone, wanting to check what day of the week it was. Maybe you were not supposed to open your store today.

You've only been working at the mansion for about 2 weeks so you were still getting used to the schedule of going there to work.

"No, no, (y/n). It's not a work day today, I actually came for another reason." He cleared his throat. You nodded your head slowly, waiting for him to say something.

"I know your store is open today but my mother's grave is completed, I was just told this morning." He informed.

"Oh, already..." You replied.

"Yeah, I guess it's faster than I expected. But anyway, I was about to go see and was wondering if you would like to come with me." Hongjoong asked.

"What...?" It took a while for his question to sink in. You were not family, why would he ask you?

"If you're okay with closing your store, the decision is up to you. I could bring you another day if you'd like." He offered.

"No, it's not that... Uh..." You didn't really know what to say or how to react.

"(y/n), if you're not ready. That's fine too. We can go another day." Hongjoong spoke in a much softer tone. He could sense and see the distraught on your face but didn't know the true reason why you were hesitant. Seonghwa was the one that suggested he ask you along to his mother's grave site.

It was good advice. But Hongjoong was worried, would you judge his indifferent reaction when you were both there? What if you cried and he didn't?

"N-No, I'm ready. We can go. All the orders today have been collected. Just... give me a sec." You collected yourself to reply him.

"Of course. Take your time." He said. You nodded and gestured for him to take a seat at the work table while you went to lock the front door up and turned your sign to 'CLOSED'.

"I'll just make a bouquet for her." You informed him and went to pick out the flowers.

"Let me pay for it." He stood up, fishing for his wallet.

"No need to." You shook your head as you headed to the work table. Hongjoong watched as you skillfully trimmed the flowers and put them together, wrapping them with a nice, sage green paper.

"Would you like a separate bouquet from you?" You asked him when you were finished.

"It's fine, just one from you is sufficient." He replied, looking at his phone to avoid eye contact with you. You didn't protest or argue, merely nodding and going to grab your things. You hung up your apron and went to the bathroom to adjust your clothes and hair.

"I'm ready to go. Thank you for waiting, I wanted to be a little bit more presentable." You smoothed your dress down.

"There's time to go back to your place to change, if you want to." Hongjoong informed you as you picked up the bouquet to cradle it in your arms.

"I'm good. Thank you." You bowed your head. Once Hongjoong and you were outside, you locked the back door.

"This way." He led you to the car. Despite Seonghwa's advice to take a driver, Hongjoong insisted on driving his own car on his own.

"Thank you." You gave him a small smile when he opened the passenger seat door for you to enter. You laid the bouquet in your lap, careful to not let the flowers get ruined.

"Wow." As Hongjoong went to the driver's side, you looked around the interior of the car.

"You have a nice car." You blurted out.

"Thanks." Hongjoong, for the first time that day, smiled. He even let out a little chuckle at your abruptness. Of course it was a nice car, a Porsche 911 Heritage, it wasn't easy for Yunho and Mingi to procure it. But it was one of Hongjoong's dream cars and he loved putting the roof down to drive in the country side.

"Would you like to put the roof down?" Hongjoong asked as he started the engine. Your eyes sparkled with curiosity before you shyly nodded your head.

"Alright." Hongjoong pressed the button and you watched as the roof folded and tucked itself in the trunk.

"That's cool." You said. Thankfully, it wasn't sunny out. And you didn't know that Hongjoong was doing all this to lighten the mood.

"Let's go." Hongjoong played some soft hip hop songs in the background before beginning to drive. You carefully held the bouquet as you looked out the window.

The wind felt nice against your cheeks and it didn't feel so stuffy as it would have been in an enclosed car.

"Tell me if it's too warm or uncomfortable and I'll close the roof." Hongjoong said as he drove.

"Okay." You nodded. Even though the car ride was enjoyable, you couldn't help the way your heart was racing as you got nearer to your destination, it was like an impending doom.

Your fingers nervously drummed against your knees. You told yourself you needed to maintain your composure and your emotions in front of Hongjoong, even if you didn't know what your reaction would be when you get there.

"I... didn't prepare any offerings... We can stop by a fruit store if you want." Hongjoong said.

"It's okay. Maybe next time." You replied. You didn't ask Hongjoong why, he must have his reasons for not preparing anything, and you didn't want to make him feel guilty either.

Soon, all the buildings disappeared and you saw all the graves come into view, all lined up on the green fields.

"We're here." Hongjoong parked the car by the side of the road.

"Take your time, (y/n). There's no need to rush." That was the most he could comfort you with. He knew if he went any further, he would be crossing the line.

"T-Thanks." Your voice was shaky, an indicator of your nervousness. You looked out at the fields, not knowing which was Mrs Kim's.

"Okay, let's go." You looked at Hongjoong. He nodded and got out of the car, coming over to open the door for you.

"Follow me." He checked his phone for the directions that the cemetery director had provided him earlier this morning. You walked behind him, careful not to disturb or trip over the other graves. Hongjoong would occassionally stop and look over at you to make sure that you were okay.

"Should be right here." Hongjoong stopped and checked the name on the grave, it was his mother's name and her picture. You looked, indeed it was her.

"Go ahead." You said before Hongjoong could ask you to go first. It was only right, he was her real, biological son.

"Um..." Hongjoong felt so awkward because he didn't know what to say. You moved back a little in case he wanted some privacy.

"Hey... I brought (y/n) here. You probably want to see her more than me at this point... I'll let her do the talking, there's nothing much for me to say to you." Hongjoong mumbled with a bow.

You couldn't really hear what he said but it did sound like he mentioned your name to her, not that you would pry.

"I'm done. Not much for me to tell her." Hongjoong said to you. You nodded and stepped forward.

"I'll move to give you privacy-"

"Please don't... Could you... stay here? Please?" You cut him off, almost begging him. He was shocked by your request, he assumed you would have wanted to speak to his mother privately. But nonetheless, he nodded his head and just stood behind you.

"Hi, omonim. How have you been? I hope you've been well, I'm glad your resting place is finally complete. I-I brought you your favourites." You stuttered as you laid the bouquet down.

"I miss you... Sometimes... I wish it's still you walking through the door..." You smiled softly as tears welled up in your eyes.

"But I hope you're at peace now, free from everything." You quickly wiped your stray tears.

"I'll come visit you more often, bring your favourite tea and snacks. Just like when you used to come during lunch or tea time to chat with me." You smiled through the tears.

Hongjoong watched from the back, you genuinely had a connection with his mother. You spoke more fondly of her than he ever did.

It was like you were her real child while he was the stranger.

"Sorry." You wiped your tears and stood up to face Hongjoong. Seeing your tears, Hongjoong felt a slight ache in his chest. A feeling he has never felt before.

Screw it, Hongjoong wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his chest. Right now, he knew you needed comforting, he didn't care about lines and boundaries. He could feel you hesitate for a few seconds before your hands gripped the material of his suit jacket and you softly cried into his chest.

As he held you, he looked over at his mother's grave behind you. Not once, since the news of her passing, has he cried. While you have cried a lot for her.

Yes, maybe the feeling in his chest was some sort of twisted guilt for not crying over his own mother's passing.

"Sorry." You cried. You didn't want to breakdown and cry, much less cry on Hongjoong's chest but you couldn't help all the emotions.

"It's okay..." He replied in a whisper.

Hongjoong and you stood there, he didn't make a move until you were ready to let go first. And once you regained composure, you did that. You pulled away and wiped your remaining tears away.

"I'm so sorry!" You said, horrified at the wet patch that was now on Hongjoong's shirt and the crumpled ends of his jacket where you had gripped too hard.

"It's fine, (y/n). Don't worry." He assured, patting your head. You felt your cheeks heat up at that gesture.

"We can go now..." You said softly.

"Are you sure?" He asked. You nodded your head. Hongjoong let you say goodbye to his mother, he didn't want or feel the need to, then you both headed back to the car. After you got in, Hongjoong kept the hood up, unsure if you wanted to just relax in the car.

"Can we put the top down again?" You requested. He hummed and pressed the button to put the hood down. With that, he began to drive out of the cemetery.

As he drove, Hongjoong glanced to the side, seeing you close your eyes as you felt the wind against you.

"I don't know how I'll be in a normal car again." You suddenly spoke with a smile on your face.

"Well, whenever you want to go for a drive, let me know." He chuckled. Hearing you say that, Hongjoong decided to take a longer route for you to enjoy the scenery for a bit.

"Would you like to go for some food or do you want to go home?" He asked.

"I don't mind going for food, if you don't have to go back to work." You turned to him with slight worry on your face.

"They don't need me. Let's go." Hongjoong said. You didn't know where he was taking you but you were fine to let him choose, you were not a picky eater.

"Hope you're okay with street food." Hongjoong told you as he parked the car by the street and pulled the hood up. You looked up at the restaurant selling street food, you were not expecting this. For some reason, you had the impression that Hongjoong and his brothers only ate at expensive places.

"I love street food." You replied. He smiled and came out, going to open the door for you. The both of you found a table by the side to sit together.

"Hongjoong sshi, what can I get you?" An older lady came to take your order.

"What would you like?" Hongjoong asked.

"Gimmari and soondae, please." You requested. Hongjoong added that to the order, adding on some other regular stuff like odeng soup and tteokbokki.

"Coming right up." The lady and Hongjoong exchanged friendly smiles before she walked to the kitchen.

"You come here often? The lady seems to know you." You asked as poured the tea into cups and handed one to him. He received it with a bow of his head and took a sip of the cold tea.

"Yeah, you probably thought that I only eat at expensive restaurants, don't you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, you kind of stick out with your suit..." You mumbled, embarrassed that he somehow knew what you were thinking.

"Well, I don't blame you for assuming that. My brothers and I do usually eat at nice restaurants because of business and somtimes because my brothers own those restaurants. But that doesn't mean we don't enjoy our street food." Hongjoong said.

"Your brothers own restaurants?" You asked.

"Yeah, there are others too. They branch out into all different types of industries. It's good for overall business and they're passionate about it." Hongjoong shrugged.

"Wow... That's impressive." You said. You suddenly felt so small, you were just a florist. Who were you compared to them?

"Here we go." The lady came with a tray, placing all the dishes in front of you two.

"Thank you." You and Hongjoong said together. She smiled at the two of you and left. Hongjoong reached over to take the cutlery from the box and handed a set to you.

"Eat up. We can order more if there isn't enough." Hongjoong encouraged. A nice silence settled over the two of you as you ate.

"The food is really good." You said as you chewed.

"Told you." There was almost a proud smile on Hongjoong's face. You watched as he avoided all the vegetables on the plate. You tried your best not to snicker, remembering how Mrs Kim told you that Hongjoong never liked to eat his vegetables. But you didn't want to ruin the mood by mentioning Mrs Kim.

"I just don't like vegetables... If I can choose not to eat them, I don't." Hongjoong said, noticing you were staring.

"Ah! I wasn't judging..." You shook your head. Hongjoong snorted, thinking he caught you in a lie. But thinking about Mrs Kim again made you feel a little sad.

"My mother told you that about me, didn't she?" Hongjoong knew from the expression on your face.

"I..." You didn't know what to say.

"It's fine, (y/n). At some point, I have to come to terms with the fact that your relationship with my mother is vastly different from mine." He said. You looked down, not wanting to meet eyes with him.

"It's not your fault and I shouldn't have made you feel like it was." He continued, remembering what the other Ateez members told him.

"No, Hongjoong. It's okay. I... I understand." You said.

"Let me go get more soup." Hongjoong stood up, taking the bowl to go to the front. You looked at his back as the lady refilled your shared bowl then she reached over to pat his shoulder with a smile on his face as they conversed.

"Hyung! What a coincidence to meet you here!" Loud voices were heard from the entrance and your gaze shifted to see Yunho, Wooyoung and San standing at the entrance of the store.

"What are you guys doing here?" Hongjoong hissed with a frown on his face.

"We just went to the casino and wanted to drop by for a bite. It was really a coincidence." Yunho grinned.

"I don't know what you're up to... But go away." Hongjoong glared. He took the soup and headed back to your table. But of course, they didn't listen to the captain.

"Hey, (y/n)." Yunho greeted. You gave a shy wave to all 3 of them.

"Do you mind if we take a seat?" Wooyoung asked. You nodded, gesturing to them to sit down.

"You can tell them to go, you know?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at you. Your eyes widened, you definitely did not have the courage to tell the 3 of them to leave.

"She won't do that. She's not as mean as you, hyung." San scoffed. You've only been working at their house for 2 weeks so you were still getting to know them. One thing for sure was that despite their fierce looks, they were all really nice and for some reason, really liked to mess with Hongjoong.

"Get your own food." Hongjoong scolded, slapping Wooyoung's hand when he wanted to steal of a piece of soondae.

"It's o-okay! I d-don't mind." You stuttered, shaking your hands. They were the ones that approached you first as you were working, showing their friendly side and trying to become 'friends' with you.

"I want kimbap." San said. Yunho raised his hand to add more food orders. Your eyes widened at the amount of food they added on.

"They're big eaters." Hongjoong said to you.

"I can tell..." You giggled, watching Wooyoung pour their tea. San's injuries looked a lot better, compared to when you first went to the house and bumped into him.

"Your order is here." The lady came back and put all the food down. Your eyes widened at all the dishes.

"You'll get used to it soon." Wooyoung winked. You blinked in confusion while Hongjoong flicked a toothpick at him.

"Don't listen to him." Hongjoong said, checking his phone.

"You guys snuck out? Hwa is looking for all of you." Hongjoong looked up from the device with a frown of disapproval at the 3 sitting at the table. The 3 just gave innocent shrugs, continuing to eat their food, while Hongjoong replied to Seonghwa.

"Do you always sneak out of work?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"When you own the company, it's called an 'extended lunch break'." San corrected with a playful smirk. Hongjoong let out a long sigh and shook his head.

"Please don't think the entire company is like that, most of us are actually hardworking." Hongjoong said.

"Hey, we're hardworking too, hyung. We just like to take breaks." Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, not all of us are workaholics." Wooyoung added. Hongjoong facepalmed, there was no way he was winning against the 3 who were against him.

"Since we're done with our food, I can take you home now, if you want." Hongjoong said to you, ignoring the others.

"Aww, wait for us. We're almost done too." Yunho added.

"We can wait for them. I'm not in a rush to go back home or anything." You said.

"(y/n), you shouldn't be giving in to them, it's not good. Don't start giving into them and what they want." Hongjoong adviced. You giggled at his words, he was speaking about them like he was their father. It was nice to see such a dynamic between them, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were very much like parents to the rest.

"Nonsense. Don't listen to him. We're great, the life of the party! You'll always have fun with us." Wooyoung winked, slinging his arm around your shoulders.

"That somehow does sound unsettling." You chuckled, making the rest at the table laugh.

"Wooyoung. Arm." Hongjoong pointed out with a threatening glare. Wooyoung did obediently remove his arm from you.

"I'm taking (y/n) home." Hongjoong declared.

"See you next time, (y/n)." The 3 were honestly not that bothered, they would see you when you came to work at the mansion anyway, much to Hongjoong's annoyance.

~

Series masterlist

[thegreyjoyed]

Hidden bird in a pub

John Price x Reader

Cw: Reader is called “Bonnie” and “Bonnie lass” /hinted at being a woman — NOT PROOFREAD or edited

Idk the word count because I wrote this in one sitting in the notes app

Reblogs and comments appreciated!

You and John had been married for several years now, having dealt with him and his bullshit (as you lovingly put it) for “far too long”.

You two had met when John had been freshly promoted to a lieutenant in the army. Actually, you had met the day he had become a lieutenant while he was out celebrating it at a local pub you worked for as a bartender and a busser on slower days.

You still remember his order, a pint of the most expensive beer you had at the time and the soup of the day- a loaded baked potato soup served with a quarter of a baguette and some bacon and chives.

It had been your recipe for the soup as the pub was family run and a well beloved place in the community. You were connected to some local breweries and bakeries who you would get freshly made bread from for your cheeseburger buns, bread bowls and sugary sweets.

You remember being rather enamored by this man- John, you learn later on in your shift. You thought he was handsome, and he had been hitting on you much of your shift either way. At the end of it, he had earned himself a date with you and from then on, it was history.

Now you and John had been married a decade and you had been there for all of his achievements and all of the military balls. However, once he became a captain and had his own team(with the exception of Simon) he had you carefully hidden away so he could truly separate his work and personal lives.

You and John had built a strong life together, if you so wished- you didn’t even have to work and could just be at home. You stayed at your job, eventually becoming a general manager and helping out wherever. You knew all of the regulars who had been there for many years now and some “newer” faces of regular’s wives and even children with how long you worked at the pub.

The bell rung around five in the evening. You looked up and chirped out a greeting, surprised at seeing your own husband followed by Simon with a black surgical face mask and two others you heard of. Johnny and Kyle, you would guess by the haircut on Johnny(?) and the darker skin on Kyle(?).

You picked up four menus and two drink menus and made your way over once the men seemingly got settled. It was slowly becoming busier, it was a Thursday night afterall.

“John! My favorite regular, Simon, how good to see the two of you. And some newcomers!” You said with a bright smile, handing over the menus to the men. Simon looked at you, his eyes narrowing at you. John smiled and nodded, “Aye. These are my sergeants, Johnny and Kyle.” He introduced, pointing to each of the two younger men.

“Hey there.” Kyle greeted nicely, a simple smile on his face before he returned his gaze to the menu to look over all of the food options. Johnny gave you a toothy grin, “Hey Bonnie.” He grinned in return, “Anything you recommend?” He questioned

You hummed, tapping your signature pen- an army green pen engraved with your husband’s initials in gold- on your chin as you thought. Something you had stolen from him a while ago- a pen he had actually been looking for. John narrowed his eyes a little at the sight of the pen, knowing damn well it was his.

You moved to the side a little and pointed at the menu. “Our soup of the day today is fantastic, it’s a loaded baked potato soup, can be served in a bread bowl or a normal bowl and comes with a quarter of a fresh baguette from a local bakery. It’s one of my favorites.” You say and pull back from the side.

“John, would you like your usual with the soup of the day today then? Simon, usual?” You question to the two men, pulling a little notebook out to write the order.

The two men nod and grunt out their yes’s. You write the order down, “Just let me know when you two are ready to order, I’ll put it all in at once.” You say with a smile as you pull away from the table.

Johnny and Kyle look at each other and then to the two older men. “How long have you two been coming here for that Bonnie lass to recognize you?” Johnny questioned as he leaned in a little. John gave the younger man a look, “Over a decade now.” He answered and Simon shrugged a little. “Seven years.” He grunted out as he pulled his surgical face mask off.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “Over a decade, Cap? Is it that good of a pub?” He questioned. John hummed gruffly, “You’ll see.” He answered simply. “Kyle, did you see her pen?” Johnny questioned, nudging the man beside him.

“Yeah? What about it.” Kyle questioned as he flipped through the two menus presented. “Look at the damn menu, idiot.” Kyle muttered to Johnny, nudging him back. Johnny clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes as he looked at the menus as he was directed to.

John leaned back in his seat, taking the time to admire you as you helped around, budding food and taking orders and stepping behind the bar occasionally. A few minutes later you came back, pen and notebook in hand. “Everyone decide on what they want?” You question as you approach. “Birdie, you’ve got my order and Simon’s.” John murmured, earning a sweet smile from you before you turned to Johnny and Kyle.

The two men got their orders out before you smiled and dipped away. Kyle gave John a look, “Birdie?” He questioned, his gaze dipping to John’s left hand where his silicone wedding band was, the real ring sitting around a chain on his neck with a pair of his dog tags.

“Yeah? What about it?” John questioned in turn as their drinks were delivered by someone else, you were busy somewhere else and out of sight. Kyle hummed, gazing at the wedding band quietly before looking back to his captain and where you were, now in sight of the men.

John huffed a little, shaking his head, “You’re smart. You can figure it out.” He muttered into his drink, a tall pint. Johnny looked at Simon, who just gave him a look. A look like he thought Johnny was stupid.

“That’s your wife? How come we never met her before?” Johnny burst out, getting a glare from Simon. “Because I don’t want my bird in danger.” John grumbled as you came back over with a tray full of food. You began to set the food down carefully, giving each man their orders.

“Bird. When did you take this from my office?” John questioned, snatching the army green pen you had in-fact stolen from him. “Few months ago.” You answer with a sweet smile. “I’ll give you it back when we’re home.” You muse in return.

John rolled his eyes and gently squeezed your hip, you had to leave after a few minutes of conversing with the table to help the rush. Eventually the rush died down and your shift soon over. Your husband had left a bit ago after squeezing your hip and giving you a quick kiss after paying the bill for the lot of them.

Eventually you headed home, your husband had beaten you there. You shut off your car and head inside with the army green pen tucked into your pocket as you pull your keys out and unlock the door. You step out of your shoes and venture into your cozy home.

John came from upstairs, looking freshly showered in his boxers and a bit sleepy. “Hello there, my loving husband.” You muse as you approached and gently grabbed his waist, pressing a kiss to his lips.

John lazily smiled and kissed you in return, “birdie..” he rumbled lazily as he pressed kisses all over your face and your shoulders. “Y’smell like beer and grease.” John muttered, making you laugh. “Yeah okay, big bear. I need a shower.” You giggle and gently shove your husband away to go upstairs to shower in the lovely master bathroom the two of you had designed together.

You got your shower, your husband had been scrolling on your phone while sat on one of the plush shower mats there were. “Are you fucking up my algorithms, big bear?” You tease with a laugh as you dry off and dry your hair off. You got your pajamas on, one of his shirts and some of your underwear.

John grumbled and shrugged a little as he followed you like a lost puppy. “I like messing around on your phone.” He answered as he crawled into bed after putting your phone to charge.

You laugh a little as you got in beside him and earned yourself another kiss as he nuzzled into you. “You’re so lucky I love you far too much.” You mused softly as you two kissed gently on the lips, the taste of spearmint in both of your guys’s mouths.

John groaned into the kiss as he slowly rolled you over onto your back, flattening you as he always did. He nuzzled into your neck and kissed your throat. The two of you settled and eventually fell asleep, just like that.