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h3nderyss · 27 days ago

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you as nct 127's 9th member (headcanons)

pairing: ot8 x fem!reader . . . masterlist . . . 127 part 2 dream ver wayv ver genre: fluff a/n: romantic headcanons for each member if you were the 9th member and only girl in 127! u can imagine if ur in a secret relationship or not!

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taeyong

after long schedules he'd immediately check on you either irl or call/text to make sure you're okay, and his soft voice and concern literally making u melt.

he gets soso shy from ur compliments, usually laughs it off meanwhile it's stuck on replay in his head for the rest of the day..

he'd fix ur hair during photoshoots and pretends it's professionalism while his fingers linger a little longer..!

customizes some choreos so u guys are purposely together! he sometimes says it's "a pure coincidence"???

i feel like he'd bake cookies for u. then say the members helped. but it truly was all him.

during meetings he'd sometimes lose focus bc he's distracted by u!

during your alone times in the practice room, you'd find romantic and sweet notes taeyong had made hidden in your bag

i want to say he's the king of words of affirmation.

johnny

teaser. but as soon as u guys are alone, his teases get softer and more flirty.

DEF the type to pull a random cheesy ass pickup line out of the blue. "did it hurt? ... when u fell from heaven." (THOSE kinds)

purposely shows off his strength to u during practice, lifting heavy props as if it was nothing

if he notices u haven't drank water in a while during practice or before rehearsals or WHENEVER, he'd actually place a drink in ur hand and go "gotta keep my girl hydrated." JBJSJSBDS??

always insist on walking u home or offering to stay at his dorm if it's late. he wants u to be safe!

calls u late at night to yap sometimes, he loves to hear u laugh

pls steal his hoodie, he might act like he doesn't care but trust me, he loves it

always manages to find a way to sit next to u during interviews or flights

yuta

he just likes calling u "pretty girl" so casually? how dare he.

surprises u with small gifts! like a hairtie or hairpin, he loves when u do different things w ur hair

he'd stay close to u in group activities to ensure ur comfortable and feel included (my sweetie pie)

walking anywhere in public if there was a mob of fans, you will ALWAYS be in front of him. he needs to make sure ur safe at all times.

he'd compliment ur stage outfits. a lot. most of the time he can't hold back his smile!

he'd teach u japanese FOR SURE. if you suck at pronounciation, he's patient as hell, and find your mistakes actually cute.

loooooong hugs if ur feeling down/upset!!!!!

lowkey steal ur phone to take selfies of himself (idk??)

loves deep late-night convos abt life and dreams and allat, he'd throw in a little "you're part of my dreams too."

doyoung

always always always notices when ur feeling down, literally offers u ur fav snack or drink!

stays up late rehearsing with u, soft encouragement pushing u through.

but it's hard bc.. how could u not fall asleep to his angelic voice ?!

lovesss teaching u new things, always there to guide u through new songs and choreo, his hand brushing urs every now & then

becomes surprisingly shy when the members tease him for how much he cares abt u (hes so cute ☹️)

takes lots of candid photos! if ur not confident in yourself that day, he deletes the photos upon ur request

always saves a spot next to him reserved for YOU and ONLY YOU. lowkey subtly tho, he just wants u close tbh

ur the only one that can make him flustered when u compliment his singing voice bc it's just... special to him??

he'll literally insist on giving u his scarf or coat on chilly days, as long as ur warm it's enough for him!

jaehyun

he'd offer u his jacket even if it's freezing. he doesn't care.

literally the epitome of a gentleman?! holds the door open for u, walks on the sidewalk nearest to the road, and all that shizzle.

very often watches u quietly during practice, just gazes at u honestly

loves taking u out to places quiet and intimate and shares personal stories

gets jealous. but like SO subtly, he just becomes extra attentive if he sees any sort of human flirt with u.

he'd help with vocal practices but honestly, he just does it so u guys are in a private area tg. only u two.

jungwoo

loves making u laugh and smile

subtly touching ur hand in group activites, pretending it's unintentional

idk i feel like he's an emoji guy... expect emojis every time u text!

i feel like he'd always share food with u and offers u bites like it's so natural, yall do it a lot

if u have long hair, expect him to play with it often!

also gets flustered when the members tease him abt how much he likes you!!!!!

u guys would often have movie nights, being cuddled up tg under a blanket.

he'd start serenading u just out of the blue. bursting out a random love song and singing it!

mark

don't even get me started on how many songs/raps this man has made about you.

he'd perform some of them only for u but he's madly blushing during!

he'd ask for ur opinion on everything. he values ur thoughts sooo much

becomes so tongue-tied every compliment u give him, he actually can't function ?? mark.exe has stopped working. he'd be smiling like a loser

actually gets excited if ur paired tg for interviews and projects! his energy gets so high, it's like ur presence just gives him dopamine

he gets protective when you're overwhelmed, "let me handle this, okay?" ......heh...

he'd learn ur fav songs on the guitar and play them when ur around to see ur reaction.

i think he'd be a kissy guy. he just loves giving & receiving kisses.

haechan

oh he'd flirt with u even in front of the members

pretends to steal ur food but ends up giving u the last bite

he'd poke u every now and then, laughing at ur reaction every time

playfully try to hold ur hand in group photos, either discreetly or evidently

during karaoke nights he'd sooo dramatically sing love songs to u, he loves showing off his voice since it's one of ur absolute fav things about him

surprisingly gets serious when ur upset!

we all know how offline his insta is.. literally cobwebs forming.

but somehow he'd send you a memes late at night saying "this is us" .. is this man really as chronically offline as u thought?

he'd call u at night and just say "did u miss me yet?" this cheeky man..

gets jokingly jealous if u hang out with another member for so long, "hey, i'm your favourite, right?"

he'd make sure you're NEVER left out, he'll be hanging around with u a lot

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focusonkayjay · 1 month ago

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between the ride and the roses (3)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Word count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: argument, jungkook is mean, OC is mean. both have high egos.

A/N: part 3 is here <3 i'm having sm fun writing this. also, i got this anonymous ask which stated i was using chat-gpt for my stories. i didn't like the tone of their message so i blocked them. however, i just want to say i have not used chat-gpt for my stories. i take time out of my day to type this story because i really want to put content out there that people might enjoy reading. i want to make stories that i have always wanted to read, but never found. truthfully, i did use chat gpt for the names of a few flowers, plants and bouquet combinations though, because i'm not a professional florist and i have no idea about flowers. i hope that's understandable. anyways, thank u for reading. let me know your thoughts :)

part 3: blooming grudges

The sun is setting, painting the street in hues of orange and pink, but the peace you’re so badly yearning for is shattered by the rumble of motorcycles and boisterous laughter right outside your shop. It’s been a week since Jungkook’s shop had started running and it has surprisingly quickly become a hotspot for bikers to gather in the evenings. The constant noise and chaos spill over into your once-quiet corner of the neighborhood.

You have no idea what they do and what the point of all these gatherings are, but you dread it every single time you hear a bunch of men lounging outside your shop.

As the evening progresses, you’re in the middle of arranging a bouquet when the sharp crash of breaking pottery jolts you out of your work. Heart pounding, you glance outside and see one of Jungkook’s biker friends near the sidewalk through your window. Still confused, you stand up and storm out to see what the hell had happened.

Anger surges through your veins as you spot the man casually standing there as if he didn’t just knock over one of your handmade ceramic pots off the display stand that was right outside your shop. “What the hell is wrong with you??!!?!” you snap, glaring at the man and then at the jagged pieces of your pot just lying there, near his feet.

The biker barely spares you a glance, shrugging nonchalantly. “Relax. It’s just a pot.” he says.

“Just a pot?” you repeat, your voice rising. “Do you have any idea how much time and effort went into that? Or do you only care about things you can rev or ride?” you feel your heart thumping as your anger skyrockets.

Before the man can respond, Jungkook suddenly steps out of the crowd near his shop. His leather jacket gleams in the fading light, and his dark eyes flicker to the broken pot before landing on you. “What’s going on?” he questions, his voice low and calm, but there’s an edge of warning to it.

You point at the shards of pottery. “What’s going on? One of your friends just broke my pot and doesn’t even have the decency to apologize!” Jungkook looks at his friend, who just shrugs, then back at you. “It was an accident.” he dismisses, his tone clipped. “I’ll pay for it.” he continues and you watch his friend just leave the scene, completely unbothered.

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pay for it? Do you think that solves everything? This isn’t just about the pot, Jungkook. Every night, this street turns into a circus because of your shop. My customers can’t park anymore, and now your friends are trashing my things.” you begin, moving your hands as you speak, unable to remain calm anymore.

His jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer. “Look, I’m sorry about the pot, but don’t act like I’m the reason your shop isn’t doing well. Maybe it’s not the noise. Maybe people just don’t care about overpriced flowers.”

Your breath catches, his words cutting deeper than you expect. “Wow,” you say, your voice trembling with anger. “You really think you’re better than everyone, don’t you? Just because you’ve got your flashy bikes and your little gang of followers?” you ignore the way your heart twitches at how he had just disrespected you and your business.

His expression hardens. “Better than everyone? No. But at least I’m not the one blaming other people for my problems. You’re so focused on what’s wrong with my shop, but maybe the issue isn’t me. Maybe it’s you.”

Your fists clench at your sides. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been here for years, building this business from the ground up. And you waltz in, turning this neighborhood into a mess, and act like you’re doing everyone a favor?” you see red as you fight with him, unable to contain the flow of words that are spilling out of your mouth.

Jungkook’s voice sharpens and he doesn’t hold back. “You think I don’t work hard? That I haven’t sacrificed everything to make this shop work? You don’t know anything about me. But sure, keep throwing stones from your little glass house.” he counters harshly.

“Oh so you can say anything about my business, but i can’t? You can talk about me like you know me, but i can’t?” There’s venom in your voice as you argue and Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying to calm himself down.

The tension between the two of you is suffocating and each word cuts like a blade. As an awkward silence fills the air, you shake your head. “You’re unbelievable.” you breathily say. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” you add.

“And you...” he fires back, “care so much about your damn shop that you can’t see past your own damn ego.” You look at him with your lips parted, unable to come up with a comeback. You feel your eyes sting and nothing makes sense anymore. You hate it here. You hate him.

Before you can respond, one of the bikers calls out to Jungkook, and he turns away, his shoulders tense. He doesn’t bother looking back at you and just leaves.

Fuming, you crouch down to pick up the broken shards of your pot. Your hands tremble as you scoop up the jagged pieces, and a sharp piece slices right through your finger. You hiss, dropping the shard as blood wells up from the cut. Your eyes tear up as you watch your finger bleed. You were so done with this man and his stupid shop.

Ignoring the sting, you finish cleaning up and head back inside, pressing a tissue to your finger. You flip the sign on your door, deciding to call it a day since you weren’t really in the mood to face any new customers. You retreat to your counter, where you slump into your chair, frustrated, exhausted and seething.

Inside Throttle and Torque, the atmosphere is much quieter, now that the bikers have left. Jungkook leans against the counter, his expression stormy as he thinks of the interaction he had with you 4 hours ago. Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok sit nearby, watching him with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement.

“You look like you’re about to punch something.” Jimin says, breaking the silence. Jungkook scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s that flower shop owner again. She’s impossible.”

“Y/N?” Hoseok grins. “What did she do this time?” he questions. Jungkook glares at him. “One of the guys broke her pot, and she went off like it was the end of the world. Then she starts blaming me for everything—says I’m ruining the whole street. Like it’s my fault her shop isn’t getting customers.” he speaks, his tone filled with annoyance.

“Isn’t it, though?” Jimin teases, earning a sharp look from Jungkook. Yoongi, raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like there’s more to it than just a pot.” he states.

“She doesn’t get it hyung...” Jungkook says, his voice growing louder. “She acts like she’s the only one who works hard, like I haven’t busted my ass to get this place running. And then she has the nerve to call me selfish? Like she knows anything about me.”

“Sounds like she hit a nerve.” Hoseok snorts, a smirk on his face. “Shut up,” Jungkook mutters, but the irritation in his voice betrays him. “She thinks she’s so perfect, but all she does is complain. It’s like she’s looking for reasons to hate me.” he rolls his eyes.

“Maybe she is.” Yoongi says, his tone thoughtful. “Or maybe you’ve already given her enough reasons to hate you.” he continues. The room falls silent, and Jungkook scoffs, pushing off the counter. “Whatever. She’s not worth it.” he dismisses, not wanting to think of you or the raging encounter he just had with you.

the next day; The morning sun spills through the large windows of your flower shop as you rearrange a fresh batch of chrysanthemums. Despite the beautiful blooms around you, there’s a heaviness in your heart. Last night’s argument with Jungkook replays in your mind, his sharp words still stinging.

The little bell above the door jingles, pulling you out from your trance. You turn to see a man walking in—a face you recognize from the group that always lingers outside Jungkook’s shop and sometimes with him as well. “Hi.” he says, his voice calm but kind. “Y/N, right?”

You blink in surprise. “Yeah… and you’re one of Jungkook’s friends, i suppose.” you say, moving away from the flowers as dry your hands on your apron. You notice how his eyes fall on the bandage wrapped around your finger, so you quickly hide it by crossing your arms over your chest. He pretends like he’s seen nothing and nods, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m Yoongi. I came here because I wanted to talk to you, if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tender.

Your instinct is to put up a wall, but something about his tone disarms you. “If this is about last night—”

“It is.” Yoongi interrupts gently. “But not in the way you think.” He steps closer, his gaze steady but non-threatening. “I’m here to apologize. On behalf of Jungkook. And… the idiot who broke your pot.”

You blink again, caught off guard. “You’re apologizing? Why?” you gulp, something about this, not sitting right with you. “Because he won’t.” Yoongi says with a faint smile, though his tone carries a hint of seriousness. “Jungkook’s stubborn. He knows he messed up, but he’s too proud to admit it outright. And, well, someone has to try to make things right.” he admits, blinking his eyes.

Yoongi observes your expression, noticing how you still look quite unconvinced. His face softens as he continues. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy, Y/N. He just… rough around the edges. Give him time. He doesn’t always know how to handle things. He gets defensive when he feels cornered.”

“Cornered?” you echo, frowning. “I wasn’t cornering him. I just wanted some peace.” you defend yourself. “I know.” Yoongi agrees. “And I think, deep down, he knows it too. But he’s been under a lot of pressure with the shop, and sometimes he lashes out without meaning to. Not that it excuses anything.” he adds quickly. “You didn’t deserve what he said. Or how he treated you. ”

His honesty surprises you, and for the first time, you feel a part of the weight lift off from your chest. “Why are you telling me this?” you suddenly ask, eyeing him even though, deep down you’re trying your best to believe everything this man says.

“Because I think you’re both better than this petty back-and-forth... interactions.” Yoongi says simply, shrugging. “And maybe, if you understand where he’s coming from, it’ll help. Or not. I don’t know. I just thought you deserved an actual apology, even if it’s not from him directly.” he finishes, flashing you a small, kind smile.

For a moment, you’re silent, processing his words. Then, to your own surprise, you smile faintly. “You’re a good friend, Yoongi.” you softly say, earning a chuckle from him as he scratches the back of his neck. “Someone’s gotta keep him in check.” he grins.

After a moment, he steps back towards the door, pausing before leaving. “Take care, Y/N. And if he steps out of line again, let me know. I’ll knock some sense into him.” he nods at you and you laugh lightly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “I’ll keep that in mind.” you say, waving at him.

Jungkook sits on the edge of the counter, a wrench in hand, intently focused as he works while Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge around. The conversation flows between them, lighthearted at first, until Yoongi brings up his visit to your shop.

“So....” Yoongi begins casually, “I stopped by Y/N’s shop today.” he says. Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “What for?” he asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“To apologize.” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair. “On your behalf. Figured someone had to.” he adds. Jimin snickers, while Hoseok whistles low. “Apologizing for Jungkook? That’s new.” he laughs as Jimin gives him a high five.

“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, but his attention stays on Yoongi. “What’d she say?” he questions and Yoongi shrugs. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear your name, but we talked. She’s not as tough as she seems, you know. She’s just… tired. Your shop and the noise—it’s really messing with her.” he explains calmly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, his jaw tightening. “And she’s hurt, by the way.” Yoongi adds, his tone sharper. “I noticed her hand. I guess she cut her finger while picking up the broken pieces of the pot your friend broke yesterday.” he explains.

The guilt that had been simmering in Jungkook since last night, suddenly boils over. “Why didn’t she say anything?” he snaps, more to himself than to his friends. “Maybe because you were too busy arguing with her to notice,” Yoongi retorts, his voice calm but firm. “She’s not your enemy, Jungkook. Stop treating her like one.” he says gently, hoping the younger one understands.

The room goes quiet, the weight of Yoongi’s words settling over them. Jimin and Hoseok exchange a glance, sensing the tension. Jungkook exhales heavily, tossing the wrench aside. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” he admits quietly. “I just—” He stops, frustration lacing his voice.

“You don’t know how to back down,” Jimin finishes for him, a teasing edge to his tone. Jungkook glares at him but doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans back against the counter, running a hand through his hair. “What else did she say to you?” he questions Yoongi. He smirks slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asks, wiggling his brows.

Jungkook’s glare intensifies, and Yoongi chuckles. “Relax. She was civil. We just talked about you a little and that’s all. She thinks I’m the ‘good friend,’ by the way.” he smiles to himself.

The comment makes Jungkook’s stomach churn with something he doesn’t want to name—guilt, jealousy, maybe both. He stays quiet as the others laugh, his thoughts swirling.

He’s messed up, and he knows it. And now, the thought of you opening up to someone else, even Yoongi, twists something deep inside him. For the first time, he wonders if the damage he’s caused can ever be repaired.

It’s just another day—or at least you hope it will be. After the pot-breaking incident a week ago, things between you and Jungkook have only grown tenser. Though Yoongi apologized to you on behalf of his actions, you were still very annoyed by the way things still hadn’t changed.

His friends still gather outside his shop in the evenings, their bikes parked so close to your store it’s nearly impossible for customers to walk in without squeezing past them. You’ve been trying to keep your head down, avoiding any unnecessary interaction with Jungkook.

However, despite the ongoing tension you can’t help but notice how hardworking Jungkook is. For a brief moment, you feel a twinge of guilt as you think about the bad blood between you guys. Maybe you need to start putting your differences aside and try to get along with him.

You shake your head, telling yourself not to think about that. You leave that thought for another day, when you’re less busy and have more time to waste.

A new shipment of flowers and pots arrives after about an hour. You’re juggling the chaos of directing the delivery workers when disaster strikes. One of the crates slips from a worker’s hands, scattering flowers and dirt all across the curb—and, unfortunately, onto one of the shiny motorcycles parked outside Jungkook’s shop.

You barely have time to assess the mess before Jungkook storms out. His face is a mask of irritation, and his voice cuts like a blade. “What the hell is this?” he immediately snaps, gesturing at the scattered soil and dirt-streaked bike.

You sigh, already bracing yourself. “It was an accident. We’ll clean it up right away.” you calmly say, knowing damn well this wasn’t something you were about to get to away with. “An accident?” he repeats, his tone laced with disbelief. “You really need to start taking responsibility, Y/N. You can’t just keep saying it’s an accident every time you screw something up.” he angrily says.

Your frustration bubbles over. “Excuse me? This is the first time I’ve caused any inconvenience to you. Meanwhile, your friends park their bikes outside my shop every evening, blocking the entrance, and I don’t say a thing!” you argue.

“Oh, here we go...” Jungkook retorts, his voice rising. “You’re always whining about the bikes. Maybe if you managed your deliveries better, this wouldn’t have happened.” he scoffs loudly.

“Don’t turn this on me!!” you snap, stepping closer. “You act like this street belongs to you and your gang of bikers. Maybe if you had a little consideration for others, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation!” you stomp your feet at the last word, wanting this interaction to just end. But were you going to be the first one to stop? no.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might say something even harsher. But he just shakes his head, his expression dark. “You know what? Forget it. Clean up your mess and stay out of my way.” He coldly says as he turns around and walks back into his shop, leaving you standing there with your hands clenched into fists.

After the chaos of the day, you’re sitting in your shop long after closing time, staring blankly at the broken pieces of another pot that lays lifeless on a piece of paper on your counter —a casualty of the earlier mishap. You close your eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.

Yoongi’s voice echoes in your mind from the other day, when he’d come into your shop to apologize on Jungkook’s behalf after the first pot-breaking incident. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy.” Yoongi had said, his voice calm and reassuring. “He’s just… rough around the edges. Give him time.”

You had wanted to believe him. For a moment, you even thought there might be a chance for you and Jungkook to coexist peacefully. But now? Now you feel stupid for ever entertaining the idea. Jungkook has made it perfectly clear that he has no intention of meeting you halfway.

You sigh, rubbing your face. You didn’t like how this whole thing had been affecting you. It was draining and just sooooo not worth it.

Forcing yourself to get up, you clean up one last time and then proceed to lock up the shop, so that you can finally head home. As you begin your walk home, you notice how the streets are quiet, the faint hum of distant traffic is the only sound accompanying your footsteps.

Your thoughts are heavy, clouded by everything that’s happened. The arguments, the pot-breaking, the way Jungkook’s words today had stung more than you wanted to admit. You wonder if you’re overthinking things, but the lump in your throat says otherwise.

You hug your jacket tighter against the cool night air, eyes focused on the pavement in front of you as you walk briskly towards your house.

Jungkook stands outside his shop, ready to lock up he watches you walk down the stairs at your entrance and cross the road, not noticing his presence at all. His chest feels tight, an unfamiliar mix of guilt and something he can’t quite name. He doesn’t like how things escalated today. He doesn’t like the way your voice cracked when you argued with him.

As much as he hates to admit it, he knows he’s been unfair. It wasn’t just about the dirt on the bike or the delivery mishap—it was the way you stood up to him, pointing out how inconsiderate he and his friends had been. You weren’t wrong.

He steps away from his shop, just to get a clearer view of your walking form. He watches intently, observing the way your shoulders are hunched slightly as if the weight of the world rests on them. The sight stirs something protective in him. It’s late, the streets are too quiet, and he knows better than anyone the kind of dangers that can lurk around in the dark.

For a split second, he considers calling out to you so that he can offer you a ride home. But then his pride kicks in, the argument from earlier replaying in his head. His ego won’t let him take that step—not yet.

Instead, Jungkook makes a quick decision. He leaves his bike parked outside his shop, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and starts following you from a distance. You walk briskly, your mind elsewhere, completely unaware of the quiet footsteps trailing behind you. Jungkook keeps his distance, making sure to stay out of your line of sight.

His gaze scans the dimly lit street, the quiet unnerving even to him. He can’t help but feel protective as he watches your small frame move through the shadowy paths. Every now and then, he glances around, hyper-aware of his surroundings.

He follows you for several blocks, his pace matching yours but always a few steps behind. When you pause to adjust the strap of your bag or check the time on your phone, he stops, leaning casually against a lamppost or pretending to examine something in a shop window.

You finally reach your building, pausing to fumble with your keys at the front door. Jungkook stays back, watching as you disappear inside. Only when he hears the click of the door locking do his shoulders relax slightly. He lets out a long breath, rubbing his nape as he turns to head back towards his shop.

As he walks back, his mind is restless. He thinks he’s ridiculous for following you all the way home just to make sure you reach safely. “Why do you care so much?” he mutters to himself, kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk. But he already knows the answer, even if he’s not ready to admit it.

When he finally reaches his shop, his bike still waiting where he left it, Jungkook glances once more in the direction of your shop. A strange mixture of guilt and something warmer lingers in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he just sighs, climbs onto his bike, and decides to head home.

While he rides back home that night, a quiet resolve settles in his chest—a growing realization that maybe, just maybe, he owes you more than just a silent apology.

<- part 2 // part 4->

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction

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race-to-spac3 · 27 days ago

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Steb x Avian! Reader

Headcanons for an Avian! Reader (technically Vastaya? idk)

Content: Gn Reader, Reader’s an enforcer, like 2 really lazy bird puns if you squint,

Pre-relationship:

From grand wings wide and long, to tiny ones that fold neatly against your back– clothes compatible with them are far and few in between– much less the standardized uniform of the enforcers.

The time and effort it took to get a special request to custom tailor your shirt and jacket wasn’t worth the trouble, moreso considering being an enforcer wasn’t exactly something you cared too much about.

Though you had to admit it was a decent enough job so you decided to stick with it anyways, and luckily you did, otherwise you wouldn’t have met your favorite person.

You hardly fight the way your feather-tipped ears would perk up at the sight of him, not bothering to hide the toothy grin that overcomes your face as you bound over to greet him at the beginning of your shared patrols.

Since you didn't particularly put too much care in your stance as an enforcer, you tended to get into mischief often, and to your surprise– Steb was too– though you still don't get the sentiment considering his poise and respectability.

Something you two quickly find to appreciate about the other is yalls ability to turn your professionalism on and off like a switch, escaping the trouble of getting caught because of it. You two are quite the pair of clever rascals, your sly tricks flying over the heads of those none the wiser.

The bird and the fish, the sea and sky.

Whether your wings are colorful and intricate or monotone and basic doesn’t change how Steb will take any chance to get a good look at your feathers. His studying gaze matches your own that trails the streaks of dark cyan along his face.

While you weren’t exactly trained in any medical work, you proved to be perfect when needing a steady hand, well articulated and precise from having to learn how to navigate your sharp talons carefully.

So anytime he needs a second pair of hands, you’re the first person he asks. An honorary assistant, you like to jokingly call yourself, though he makes no effort to comment otherwise.

Sometimes when you’re on break and sitting next to each other you’ll splay your wings in a stretch, purposely flitting a few feathers to mess with his hair on the chance that his helmet is off.

He’ll scrunch his nose and flick your feathers out of the way in an equally playful manner.

While standing guard at a post, the moment it starts raining you’ll wordlessly unfurl your wing and use it as an umbrella for him, he’ll try to deny or stop you but you ignore him with persistence.

In an established relationship:

Mornings you have off are necessary lazy times.

Steb doesn’t have to admit how much he adores these times with you, you can tell by the way he’ll soothingly slide his nails across the keratin shaft of each feather, smoothing out all your plumage with such a gentleness it makes your heart soar.

Steb is oftentimes a busy man, preferring schedules and management to handle his daily life with the sole exception being you of course. Even when his attention is drawn elsewhere, he’ll notice that your wings have been a little neglected lately (not to say that they’re shabby no– far from it, it’s just that he has the eyes of a hawk)

Then when you least expect it, also being caught up in work, he'll pull you away from the stress, making you sit down at the edge of your bed and rest when you’re finally home, not letting you delve back into paperwork or the likes. ”Doctors orders” Steb signs, giving you his signature look that makes you slump in your place, half-heartedly defeated as you watch him settle beside you.

Steb opens his arms out invitingly, letting you tug him down and drape yourself across him. making sure you’re as comfortable as possible before he adjusts himself to be propped up against a pillow, giving him a clear view of your wings before he gets to work.

He’ll preen your wings with such tenderness, even if you insist that he doesn’t have to, Steb will shut you up with a series of light kisses, making you relent to his care.

A/N: throws this and runs away–

Very short I know, but I just wanted to get something out there cause I been neglecting my writing already

#steb arcane #steb #arcane season 2 #arcane #steb x reader #arcane x reader #i love avian charcters sm #i felt bad for not writing #ship name flying fish idk

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fudgechocolatepuff · 3 months ago

Text

a lovebirds bloom! (pumpkin pie edition) pt.ii🍁

keigo t. x fem. reader | wholesome fluff :)

pt.i of a lovebirds bloom , pt.iii of a lovebirds bloom

sneak peek ➸ you bump into the winged hero again in the fall season by chance, but neither of you two mind.

word count : 2.6k

Brisk air flew over your face upon wiping the window for the -mpth time today.

Although you carefully scrubbed at the glass to rid it of any visible blemishes left from the busy workday, the window remained foggy, dewy droplets sticking from the outside and obscuring your view of the street beyond.

The sky above was nothing short of clear, the stars twinkled from above in contrast to the darkening of the blue sky, now a navy-black colour.

In response to the sudden draft drawn in from the decreasing temperatures outside, your fingers wrapped around the end-loops of your scarf and pulled, tightening its hold on your neck in hopes of trapping the heat there.

If only the small window tucked in the back would close all the way instead of inviting a day-lasting breeze to nip at the tips of every customer’s ears.

Aside from the chill air that bit at the tips of your fingers, you grew more satisfied looking over the decor that you were tasked to put up, just in time for the incoming autumn season.

No matter for what season you decorated for, the warm-toned paint of light cafè brown matched every occasion.

This time—since you were put in charge of the aesthetics of the shop—you made sure that the festivity of the harvest-halloween period would radiate more than the past years’ decorations, and draw in more customers!

Perhaps, if you tried hard enough, you could draw back the attention of the winged hero.

You shook your head to snap yourself out of that ridiculous fantasy.

Okay—sure, you missed the interaction exchanged between you and the hero, but you doubted he’d ever come back, let alone acknowledge the tension he’d left behind when he dashed through the doors that spring morning.

It was embarrassing! Being stuck up on a menacingly short conversation was not of your character, especially as it was confined in your professional workspace.

But you couldn’t deny, he teased and teased your little talk together, leading himself on to flirt and flatter you. Hell, you even let him enamor you, blushing at every comment he made about you.

“He was a hero though, of course he’d do a bit of romancing, that was his way of making talk with any woman around his age!” you reminded yourself, the pride that resided in your heart shrinking to embarrassment.

After letting yourself stare at the wall and ponder whether you should quit your job and start a new life in Europe, you continued your ritual of turning off each lamp scattered throughout the shop, appreciating the orange-ish glow it reflected onto the fresh stock of pumpkins and giving the space a homely fall ambience.

You retrieved your coat that hung on the teensy wooden rack, slipping it through your arms as the tired began to rush into your body.

Hanging your bag over your shoulder, you stepped toward the double doors, not before letting your nails glide past and tap against each of the candles, a subtle waft of vanilla-pumpkin flowing through your senses.

You snatched a candle to take home, just as a souvenir, you’d pay it back tomorrow.

Flipping over the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’, the bell of the door jingled as you walked out, with a bittersweet feeling now settling in your chest.

——————

With a swift movement, Hawks’ hands tugged at the collar of his jacket, the fluffy white trim heating his lower face the tiniest bit as he flew through the crisp air of the autumn night.

He groaned in annoyance, regretting his decision of leaving all his hot-pockets at home, his frown grimacing more at the feeling of his empty, cold pockets.

Hawks hated this time of weather. Not the merriment of outdoor activities, oh no—he loved the idea of pumpkin patches and apple picking.

It was the transition between summer and winter. The drastic decrease in temperatures after the steady 70s in the past weeks left the man shivering.

He wasn’t used to the dropping temperatures and neither was the rest of the civilians below, all bunched up in their coats and arms crossed tightly against their chests. This year brought quite the chilly autumn, maybe the coldest of them all.

“A cup of the hottest, frothiest and sweetest coffee would really hit the spot,” the hero thought, scanning over the masses of people, hopping his pupils over every few buildings in seek of refuge from the cool night and to be treated to a nice dessert-in-a-drink.

Just when his eyes lit up to the sight of a coffee shop that looked quiet enough to not be noticed, something else caught his eye rather quickly.

A lady dressed in a dark coat and a slightly brighter, but full and cozy scarf wrapped around her neck that held a peculiar yet chic pattern on the woven fabric.

She appeared to be running on an empty street—or… chasing something. Hawks looked ahead of the woman, to which he spotted a small cylinder container rolling downhill that the woman must’ve been trying to catch.

To this, Hawks laughed to himself softly, not to make fun of her, it just looked a little silly! The hero’s gloved hands cupped the outside of his mouth, where he huffed out to capture at least some tinge of warmth before descending onto the street of the escaping container.

If it had been some other instance where he wasn’t bored out of his mind and actually had to patrol an area, he would have just sent a feather on its dandy way to complete a small mishap like this one.

However, he had finally found an escape.

His boots landed on the smooth pavement with a quiet ‘tap’ at the end of the street as he crouched down to reach his hand out, catching what looked to be a candle just in time.

The woman who scurried down the road slowed her steps to catch her breath.

“It’s not every night where your own candles run away from you. This yours?” the winged hero held out his hand as he flicked his eyes to the woman.

But the cheeky smile instilled on his face suddenly dissipated into a wide-eyed stare, his question almost being cut off by his shock.

The bundled-up woman breathed in once again—finally able to breathe steadily—as she extended her own fingers to take back the candle, but tensed up as her pupils recalled the dark shade of the man’s gloves, and felt her shoulder blades freeze.

“Oh… you’re—“

“The flower shop girl,” Hawks remarked, a gentler smile blemishing his face, “the cute one who gave me the bouquet that Miruko adored.”

Despite the cold sitting in the air, the warmth still made its way onto your skin. Your voice shook nervously, trying to not make this situation as awkward as much as you could.

“It.. it was nothing really, just wanted to dedicate something for a hero I really admire.”

You shifted your hands to be clasped in front of you, just below your stomach as you spoke.

“Well, she really loved it. Seriously, if I had gone to another store I wouldn’t be called the ‘best feather flower fairy.’”

A laugh ran through from your chest as you imagined Miruko’s reaction to the “flower fairy” delivering her bouquet.

“I suppose you aren’t the kind of person to give her gifts like that.”

“Nah, not really. However, I just figured to get her something with a tad bit more of sentiment for her 25th,” he replied casually, still grasping the sweet scented candle in his hand.

“Oh, that’s so sweet! I bet she really got all emotional and recited an honoring speech dedicated to you, going on and on about you being so thoughtful.”

“If the speech was followed by a smack in the arm and a 2 minute-long cackle at me being so sappy, then yeah, I’d say she got a bit teary, almost gave me a hug, even.”

“I wonder how she’ll react next year.”

“Perhaps she’ll dedicate a memoir to me and buy me a bouncy house. A gift for a gift.”

Not many were able to joke with him like that. Of course, Hawks’ fans and acquaintances always felt ecstatic to chat with him, but there was no real talk—only jokes he’s heard millions of times before.

And he’d never want to offend them, but they were either quite boring, or too overwhelming.

Either way, they didn’t treat him as if he was any other person, just a man-doll that swooped by and teased or flirted those who wanted his attention.

With you, though, he could be sarcastic and not be looked at in a ‘were you joking?’ kind of way. He had almost forgotten what it was like to connect with another person on a deeper level.

No, this was a bit more sweeter, and he didn’t want to lose that.

Your delicate fingertips shooed hair out of your face as you looked onto the street, now completely drowned out by the darkness of the night, lit only by the orange-hued street lamps.

You didn’t even notice the lingering gaze the winged man held onto your face, glossing over your features hypnotically.

He stepped to your side and met with your eyes, “Hey, I know it’s getting a bit late, and you probably have work tomorrow. I just wanted to know if you’d wanna grab a quick bite with me. I saw a cafè down a couple’a blocks down.”

Although the fatigue in your body raged deep in your bones, you could endure it a bit longer for a nab of coffee.

——————

The walk to the cafè was fairly comfortable.

He noted to you that he even saw some pastries displayed on the window. A “sugar plum fairy” you called him, to which he grumbled at the reminder of the foolish name. What a baby.

You didn’t expect to be asked about the progress of the flower shop, but you gladly told him about the new pumpkins that came with a carving kit, how you’d probably snatch one for yourself to make a design.

“Wouldn’t a starry night be easier than a character like Hello Kitty? You’re quite the artistic type.”

“Shushh! I’ve always fantasized about a glowing hello kitty with a witch hat, don’t crush my dreams.”

“Poor little florist, wants to express all of her feelings through Hello Kitty! Don’t worry, sweets, I won’t do too much on you.”

“I’m glad you understand the severity of my fixation.”

“Heroes are always empaths, ya’know?”

“You not so much!”

In response, he side-eyed you and crossed his arms.

You shuffled your hands into the pockets of your coat, when a sudden thought slipped into your mind.

“Oh, by the way, my name’s (your name).”

“Hi, (name).”

——————

Upon arriving to the cafè, you felt like you could have fallen asleep on the leather-seated-booths that gave just the right of cushioning, but at this point you were starved for sugar.

Its style was a bit more foreign like—a banner next to the cashier framed the statement that read the inspiration came from Western Europe. The beauty and emptiness of the little shop just proved it to be a gem that you’d keep a secret forever.

Somehow, you found yourself matching Hawks’ vibe with the coziness of the café. Warm, golden, fuzzy.

You darted your eyes back down to the menu before Hawks could catch you staring at him, focusing on the ‘hot options’ category.

When you looked up to ask what he’d order, he was already staring you back, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I saw that.” he taunted, a smug grin rested on his lips.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, the obvious humiliation present on your features, pursing your lips together with the intention of relieving your shame.

“It’s no problem, doll,” his assuring statement completely opposite of his teasing expression, “Do you know what you want?”

As if it was on cue, a waitress ambled her way over to your table, notepad in hand, not even batting an eye to the number two, “What would you guys like to order?”

“May I get a (hot drink of your choice), please?”

The waitress scribbled down your order and turned to the man across from you.

“Ah, can I have a hot white-mocha with an extra shot of caramel as well as a slice of pumpkin pie?”

“Alright, I’ll have those out for you two in a bit!”

You thanked her before she scurried on into the back, “It’s absolutely ludicrous that nobody else acknowledges the fact that you have a huge sweet tooth.”

“Sugar energizes my system more than caffeine, it’s just how I function.”

“Do you brush your teeth at night? Y’know, sugar can rot those pearly whites of yours.”

“Yes, mother, I brush my teeth every night,” he chuckled, adjusting the buckle of his watch.

“It can also give you a condition, don’t know if you’ve heard, but it’s called diabetes—“

“Yeesh, I didn’t know I’d come to this place just to be lectured about my tastes.”

“If it were anybody else, they’d say the exact same thing.”

“Oh, let me be.”

The two of you went silent after that, but in a comfortable moment of calm, engulfing the presence of each other and the faint chatter of the minimal customers that were also sat down in the cafè.

Hawks in that moment wondered if he twisted the crown of his watch back far enough, he could make this night last forever.

Before long, you’re both gulping down your hot beverages, a waterfall of heaven swirling in the brown paper cups in your hands.

After a short debate, the two of you decided that it was getting late, and you both had busy work days to deal with tomorrow, and so he took the pumpkin pie to-go and shared it with you on your walk to the train stop. It wasn’t rude courtesy if no one could see you two at the dead of night.

“How come you live a bit far from your flower shop?”

You chewed your piece of pie, both crust and filling, “I don’t know, honestly. I think after applying to all the jobs I had in mind, I drew little paper pieces from a hat to just decide and get it over with.”

“Decision making can be tough when it comes to jobs.”

“You get it,” crumbs of pie fell onto your coat as you responded with your mouth full.

The hero held the empty plate with sprinkles on crumbs left behind in his hand, and with your candle in the other as you two continued the walk, about 3 minutes away.

Stopping at the top of the stairs that descended down into the underground station, Hawks stopped you from going further.

“Look, I really enjoyed this little going out together, although it started out with me ending your game of tag with your candle.”

You huffed lightly looking back at the thought, a shy smile tugging at your face, “Yeah, I’m glad I bumped into you when I did.”

Placing the candle into your palms, he began to take a few steps back, and Hawks admitted to you, “I hope to see you soon, sweets, whenever time permits.”

You waved to him, “Thanks for the pie.”

He nodded his head and gave you a sweetly sick smile, before turning to walk away and prepare to fly off.

As much as you hated for this night to end, you could at least encourage him to come back to you.

“Come back to the shop soon!” you shouted from afar, hoping he would hear.

The winged hero turned his head, waving his hand and shouting back, “I will!” eventually flying away into the alluring night sky.

The next time you’d come back to this cafe, you promised to order pumpkin pie every time.

a/n: so sorry for not posting this sooner! i’ve been so caught up in my studies and i couldn’t find time to post! however i lovedd writing this and figured now would be the best time to publish this. i hope this makes up for my absence :) love you and happy october!!

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spooky-luvur · 1 year ago

Text

OPEN 24/7

(Ghostface x Reader)

(Summary: Working at a gas station at two in the morning was sooo boring- until a strange customer changes that)

The bell rings for the umpteenth time. As part of your game, you make a guess in your head. Another old beer-belly? Bud Light, but maybe Modelo. Maybe a kid, reeking of weed and you’re gonna need to ask them for ID. Those are more common than you’d like to think about.

You listen to the squeak of leather shoes against the floor, not bothering to look up from your phone until the footsteps stop in front of you.

“How can I help you?”

“Something more interesting than me?”

The tone of the man causes you to finally avert your attention. He’s neither fat and bald nor young enough to require questions, if the shadow on his face is any indication. He's giving you a look, hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Not a mean look- you’ve gotten enough of those working at this crummy gas station to know the difference. The smooth brow and twinkling eyes is enough to tell you he isn’t mad and isn’t about to yell at you about the pumps not working. Not yet at least.

You flush a bit at the call out, awkwardly slipping the device in your pocket. Thankfully it’s just you tonight, so there’s no annoying coworker to rat you out for this.

“Sorry,” you tell him, trying to sound at least a tidbit professional. “Slow night, I guess.”

The man’s lips quirk but he’s not quite smiling. You wonder if he’s actually upset about it before he nods to the shelf behind you.

“Some reds. Gotta look cool and mysterious for all the people flinging themselves at me.”

You let out a ‘ha’ at his joke and he grins. You turn to grab a pack of smokes, placing it on the counter and he pulls out some cash to pay for it. Not unusual, but usually people his age love to flaunt their fancy credit cards to prove they have them or some other bullshit reason to flash the shiny hunk of plastic at you. Normally a shitty pick-up line follows it.

“Not very good for you,” you attempt to joke. The man raises his brow and you immediately wish you kept a gun behind the counter to shoot yourself with.

“I know,” he says. “Ever found yourself hooked on something, though? Can be tough as hell to break away.” He gives a kind of wry smile that leaves you fidgeting where you stand.

“No. Not- nothing like that, no.”

The man deftly tucks the smokes into his pocket.

"Right. Well, have a nice night," he says before turning on his heel and swiftly exiting the store, the encounter happening so quickly that it leaves your head spinning.

“Alright,” you mutter to yourself, a bit too stiff to go back to your casual leaning against the counter pose.

You’re still absentmindedly staring at the glass doors when the phone rings. The blaring noise makes you jump but you snatch it up nonetheless, stuttering out a hello.

“Heya, just checking in.”

The voice of your boss makes your shoulders relax. You suddenly can’t remember what they were tense for.

“Hey Jimmy, I’m doing fine.”

“Yeah? No robbers?”

“If there was, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d be crying in the freezer.”

“Ha. Never gonna happen, kid. Not when they know Big Jim’s the one that owns the place.”

“Course not.”

He reminds you to restock the drinks before he hangs up, leaving you sighing against the phone. A couple seconds after you set it down it rings again and you pick it up fully expecting for Jimmy to answer saying ‘and another thing-‘

But it isn’t Jimmy who responds to your hello this time. A peculiar voice echoes the word back to you. It makes you pause, and a short silence follows.

“…Hello?”

Snapping out of it, you instinctively adjust your posture as though the person on the other end could discern your lackluster demeanor and reprimand you for it.

“How can I help you?”

”Who is this?”

“…Jimmy’s Station. Do you need a pizza, or…”

“No, no. Was hoping you could help me with something else.”

“Okay…what is it?” You naw your lip, nervous for some reason. Your gut twists like you’ve eaten something bad.

“You got any knives?”

“Ah…”

You glance over at the rack of colorful blades on the other side of the counter. All shapes and sizes, all dangerously sharp.

“Yes, we do.”

“Perfect. You got any pink ones?”

“Buying one for your wife?”

Seriously, curse you and your automatic attempts to desperately avoid weird conversations. The voice on the other end laughs a bit. Or scoffs.

”Maybe. Think she’ll like it?”

“I mean, probably.”

“Hm…what about blue? You got any blue ones?”

“Yes, we have blue knives.” You answer, simply exasperated now. Part of you thinks this guy is just messing with you, but these seem like regular questions well enough. It’s not like there’s a lack of strange people out there that could be asking them.

“Well, that’s just great. Hey, could you do me a favor?”

Knowing he’s probably gonna say something stupid, you reply with a ‘sure, whatever.’

”Take one of those pretty, shiny knives- one of the really nice ones, you know? Pick your favorite color, even. Take it, really feel the weight- and shove it in your gut till you bleed like a stuck fucking pig.”

The phone is suddenly a block of ice in your hand.

“W-What?”

”What?” It mocks you. “You think it’ll hurt? I bet you’d like that.”

You shake. Why the hell haven’t you hung up yet? The sick freak on the other end laughs tauntingly. Like he’s actually having fun with this.

”You would wouldn’t you? I’d take your damn guts and string them up on the wall- really spice the place up a bit, it’s so dreary. Then I’d-“

You finally rip the phone away from your ear and slam it down onto the receiver. Gulping in a breath, you rub your hands down your face to steady yourself. Stupid prank callers.

Deciding you need to get the hell up and do something with your hands you leave the counter and head toward the back of the store behind the freezers. Upon entering you shiver, considering going back out to your car to retrieve your jacket.

You haul a box of beers onto a table and begin unpacking them, the repetitive motion allowing you to lose yourself in your thoughts. For a few minutes it’s a good distraction from the voice you keep replaying in your head.

Then your phone rings. Not the store phone still on the front counter- your personal cell resting in your back pocket.

‘Ugh,’ you think. ‘What is it now, spam?’

Thinking that, you ignore call and let it continue ringing until it stops. But then it happens again, and you’re annoyed enough to whip it out and answer it.

“Listen-“

”You’re being really fucking bad.”

The can you’d been holding slips out of your grip and explodes on the floor, wetting your feet. You curse loudly and fling your phone onto the table.

“What the fuck!”

The device slides off the table and clatters onto the stone floor. All you can do for several moments is stand there and stare as if the voice would reach through the device and grab you, carrying out the acts it had told you to perform on yourself only minutes prior.

Thinking quickly you hurry over to the freezer door and lock it from the inside. Great, now the only people that can get in and get you are people that work here. You can just stay in here till morning, right? Or maybe Jim will call again and you won’t pick up and he’ll get worried and he’ll call for someone to help you and-

“Saved me the trouble.”

A pair of arms wind around your waist and you’re ripped away from the door and tossed onto the ground like a sack of food. The concrete scratches your skin painfully as you gasp for breath, glancing up to see a kind of black shroud. It’s all you allow yourself before you’re scrambling to your feet and further into the room.

Only, as you stop in front of the back door that leads to basically the woods, you realize you don’t have the one think that opens it on your person. Your mind thinks back to the key ring in the office as you hear the shrouded attacker approaching.

“Please,” you’re saying before you even turn around. Once you do you’re met with a stark white face twisted in a dramatic scream. The figure is tall, you notice as it stalks closer.

“Already begging?” It teases you in a warped voice. The same one on the phone, you realize.

“What the hell?” The fearful tears in your eyes sting angrily. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Want do you want? I’ll call the fucking cops!”

He’s laughing before you can finish.

“Really? Who am I to stop you, then?”

He steps to the side and waves his arm to the doorway behind him.

“Phones just over there. Go ahead.”

Surely. Surely he’s messing with you. You’re not that stupid, and neither is he. And he knows that you know that, if the silent laughter that makes his shoulders shake is any indication.

“Fuck you,” you hiss at him as you press your back to the locked door. Your hands splay across the cold metal as if searching for a blackhole to swallow you completely.

“Such a dirty mouth! Think it’s good for anything other than cussing me out?”

“Get fucked.”

“Are you offering?”

You find yourself paralyzed with fear as he reaches into a concealed pocket, retrieving a knife. The silver gleams in the shitty light of the freezer.

“What do you want?” You take pride in lack of tremble in your voice.

“You were so rude earlier,” the masked man says. He slides a finger down the blade of the knife tauntingly. “Hanging up, and then ignoring me? Didn’t your mother teach you any better?”

“You deserved it, freak.”

“Oh!” He laughs. “You think so? Mm, maybe I was a bit forward…” He playfully taps a gloved finger against the plastic mask like a cartoon villain.

Your heart beats painfully in your chest but you force yourself to steady your breathing and consider your options. Right now you’re stuck between this obviously intelligent freak of a man and a locked door you have no hope of opening unless you suddenly get super strength.

“I see you thinking, doll. Wanna share with the class?” By now he’s standing mere inches away and you flinch as he brings up the gutting knife to trace the tip of it along the vulnerable skin of your exposed collar.

You steel yourself, tilting your head so you’re not looking up at him like a frightened child. “Get away from me.”

The knife pauses in its path up your throat and you nearly shiver at the sharp chill.

“Away? From you?”

A hand tangles in your hair and shoves you harder against the door, making you groan in pain.

“Go ahead and have an attitude again, I dare you. Double dare, even.” He hisses, bringing his mask closer to your face. You can’t see his eyes behind the cloth. Just a black void.

“I’m sorry…” you mutter, having to come up with something quick. Maybe if you convince this guy you’re totally giving up he’ll slip somehow and you can get away. Or he’ll see right though it and you’ll end up with your insides strewn about like party streamers. That’ll be fun for the next shift.

Your breathy tone causes him to pause. After a moment his chest rumbles like a happy purr.

“Oh, that’s good. I like that. Say it again, won’t you?”

You can feel his knife poking your belly- thinly veiled threat.

“I’m sorry.” You grow bold enough to slide your hand from the wall and onto his waist. You touch the man lightly as if he was a bomb you could set off at any moment. Which he is.

“I’m just scared. Please.”

“Of course you are. But it’s gonna be okay,” he brings his other hand from your hair down to your face to traces your lips with his finger. It would have made your stomach flutter if he wasn’t holding a knife against it.

“I’m not gonna hurt you too bad. I just wanna have some fun, but you’re being such a brat.”

“I…”

Your eyes slide past him to the open doorway. Your phone still rests on the floor in that room, but doesn’t he know about that? No way he’d let you anywhere near it. You’d have to think of something, fast.

A hand under your chin forces you to look back at the screaming mask.

“I hope you’re not thinking of it. I don’t know if I can handle anymore of that tonight.”

“No…no, of course not.”

“Good. Good boy.” His hand moves from your chin to curl around your throat as if simply admiring the flesh there.

“Please,” you push yourself off the wall and further against him, straight up pressing your chest to his at this point. His hand stutters against you and you don’t feel the sharp press of the knife anymore. “You’re…making me feel so-“

“Yeah? How am I making you feel, baby?”

You smooth your hands up his arms, having to mentally scream at yourself to keep you from fawning over the firm muscle there.

Maybe he’s too desperate to get his hands on you, or maybe he’s distracted by your hands on him, but he’s loose enough to not notice the not so subtle tightening of your grasp all of a sudden.

“So…urgh!”

You don’t know where you got the strength but you throw your entire body weight at the guy in order to shove him away and pretty much fling him toward a metal rack stacked full of boxes. He yelps in pain as he crashes into it, bottles spilling out and exploding. If the bitter smell of strong alcohol doesn’t suffocate him, his now drenched mask surely will. You use his momentary stun to turn and sprint to the other room, nearly slipping on the liquid covering the floor.

Your hands are shaking from adrenaline so badly you almost lose your balance once you crawl under the table to retrieve your phone. Breathing a sigh of relief once you have it you swipe to your contacts and click on the first one you see, the scream for help on the tip of your tongue. You don’t remember if your finger hit the call button or not before you’re suddenly grabbed by the ankle and dragged out from under the table shrieking.

You don’t have time to prepare yourself to meet the terrible mask once again before you’re flipped onto your back, but that doesn’t matter. A gasp gets stuck in your throat at the bare face that greets you.

“You…”

The man’s hair is damp as it falls over his eyes and he reeks of fancy beer. He’s breathing heavily as he sits on your legs to keep you still.

“Hey, doll. Funny seeing you here.”

A brief exchange- a single purchase was all it took to become a victim? He must see the realization on your face because he grins like a bully.

“I know, I know. I did good, didn’t I? Had to stop myself from jumping over the counter then and there. Knew the wait would be worth it, though.”

“You fucking prick!” Squirming within the man's unyielding hold, he maintains a smug grin while firmly clasping your wrists. You can tell someone like him is simply reveling in his sense of control. “I hope you choke on your damn cigarettes!”

He throws his head back and laughs. If he wasn’t currently holding you captive you probably would have blushed at this man’s boyish charm.

“That’s good, I might use that. You mind if I use that?”

You attempt to kick him off before there’s a hand on your throat and squeezing. You sputter, grasping at it. The man brings his face down to yours to hiss angrily, but before he can get a word out-

“Hello? Please answer me…”

The room fills with a thick silence as both of you freeze. You both pivot your heads in unison, eyes landing upon the phone which is nearly concealed beneath the table's shadow. The screen is lit up in a call, the name of your friend that lives just down the road splayed across it. You’d laugh in pure relief if you weren’t still face to face with the man in the shrouded costume.

The man on top of you faces you with a blank look and brings his finger up to his mouth in a shushing motion. As if you’re dumb enough to yell out for help now.

“The cops are on their way, I called them a few minutes ago. Maybe everything is fine but I just wanted to make sure-“

The man quietly seethes with anger and scrambles off you to snatch up the device, ending the call. He leaves you on the ground, breathing heavily and staring up at him.

“I know where you live. I know where you work.”

He crouches beside you and there’s that stupid fucking grin again, like a child that just stole another kids candy.

“I know where you go to eat, I know what roads you take, I know where you piss in the morning. I know everything about you, doll. So please, tell them everything and give me a fucking reason.”

You hadn’t noticed his knife was back in his gloved hand until it’s being dragged down your leg, catching the fabric of your pants. You suck in a breath and look back up to meet his eye, shaking your head.

“Good. I know you’ll behave.”

He stands back up and makes to leave through the back door, swinging the ring of the key on his finger casually. He winks at you before he slips away.

“Until next time, baby.”

Thirty minutes later you’ll be seated in your friends car as they drive you home, remembering the feeling of the masked man’s hands on your skin, on your body, around your throat- until it’s seared in your consciousness. It isn’t until you’re laying in bed that night that a shiver of fear, or maybe even sick excitement runs through you when you remember he still has the key.

——————————————————————————

(chat gpt fr saved my ass on some of this 🤫)

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x male reader #x male reader #slasher x male reader #slashers #slashers x reader

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lowkeyrobin · 9 months ago

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Trevor Spengler dating headcanons?? With a paranormal enthusiast?

YESYESYESYES FINALLY TREV REQUESTS OMG YEAHHAHAHSHAH ; thank you for requesting!! hope you enjoy :)

TREVOR SPENGLER ; dating headcanons

summary ; dating stuff w trev

warnings ; language

word count ; 539

masterlist

he's literally obsessed with you

always talking & thinking about you

he's got over 500 pictures of you too

his lockscreen is a picture of you two together as well, so he's constantly opening his phone to see it

he's got a couple widgets that are just you as well 💀🙏 it's all nice and themed bc you showed him how to do it

probably picks up editing for you

surprisingly a great editor, he's 100% into shake and transition edits, no matter how long they take

your contact name is probably "y/n/n 😈🔥" because he's a teenage boy.

you can't tell me he doesn't frequently use 😈🔥🗣⁉️🤞👍💪💀 etc

he isn't big on physical affection (mostly pda) but he has his moments. he's much more into physical affection when you're completely alone or just w pheobe or lucky tho

likes slinging an arm around your shoulder or giving/relieving reassuring and comforting hugs, or some hand holding

he doesn't like feeling like he needs to prove to people that you're together or anything which you 100% understand

his love language is quality time

always watching movies, driving around together, playing video games, etc

he's not great with his words but when he says he loves you and cares about you, he's being completely, truthfully honest

you guys discuss drama and make fun of fake bitches together, in and out of school

watching those tik tok storytime slides shows and they're WILD. you're cackling and confused at the same time

go watch derrick branch to see what I mean cause holy shit those storytimes r wild

he loves teaching you all about the ghostbuster gear

and also about ghosts, their spirits, haunted objects, etc

uses big words like protons and neutrons to try and impress you and sound smart

thinks you look cute in the ghostbuster suit

you guys play around with the proton packs and play with them like nerf guns (off of course)

custom ghostbuster patches on your backpacks/special jackets

you make a drawing of him and slimer together LMFAO

trev is all miserable and hunched over like 🧍‍♂️😒 and slimer is like floating above him a bit like 😊👍

he loves it, it's on his wall

always going on adventures together

you teach him stuff about your hobbies, and he teaches you stuff about his

sharing spotify playlists>>>

making food together is like a shared couples hobby

collecting plushies because why not

matching clothes galore

and stealing clothing out of each other's closets

ruffling his hair (and washing it when he's lazy/has no motivation to do it himself)

randomly sending each other memes/gifs/emojis

sharing an umbrella

pressing your foreheads together and sitting in silence

pushing his hair behind his ears randomly to get a better look at his face

remembering little things about each other

facetiming even to just sit in silence and do your own thing

conspiracy theory dumping on him

working at the lab with lucky to understand Ghosts better

buzzfeed unsolved with Ryan and Shane 24/7. you guys (you) geek out over that shit

your first time ghostbusting, you literally just watched in awe

like ghosts are actually real?? omg

you ranting about how you wanna be a professional ghost hunter

figuring out new info on ghosts, how they function, how it all works etc

you're like a little scientist

he thinks it's so cute

#lowkeyrobin #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard #trevor spengler x reader #trevor spengler #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader

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style-chase-fashion · 2 years ago

Photo

Hello Sir/Madam! We're a #Legitimate #Professional #Manufacturers" & #Exporters" of all #kind of: #tshirt #hoodies #jacket #pants #trousers #Sportswear #fitnesswear #Activewear #Gymwear #yogawear #streetwear #officewear#Kidswear We already work withsome big brands of t shirt, hoodies, yoga gym fitness and fighting wears We do #Manufacture #Custom Product's. All #products can be customize with your custom cuts, Pattern's, Sew. Quick production time with custom patterns, cuts and sew. #Would you please advice me if you want to check my product quality We do ship internationally. Waiting for your Positive Response! [email protected] www.stylechasefashion.com WhatsApp & telegram 00923207904318 (at USA, Canada and UK) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn7Iv5LyPTv/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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kusakabesimp · 2 days ago

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Kusakabe and Nanami - Suits and Ties

Did anyone suggest I analyze suits and ties for two of our JJK DILFs? No. But will I go into extensive detail about Kusakabe and Nanami's suits? Yes, I will.

TIE SELECTIONS AND KNOTS Kusakabe - Half-Windsor

The Half-Windsor is a practical, classic knot, perfect for someone like Kusakabe, who is adaptable and efficient. Professional without being overdone, the knot size fits well with a medium-sized collar (which is logical for his build) and pairs effortlessly with virtually any suit fabric. The look stays polished and put together, whether with the suit or the trenchcoat.

The color is a conscious choice. The darker shade of green follows traditional suiting conventions, where a bold accent piece complements a simple foundation like his white shirt and black suit. It allows Kusakabe to keep a professional look while adding a subtle touch of individuality.

Even the mechanics of the knot make sense for Kusakabe. It uses less length than a Full Windsor, and is ideal for a taller and broader body shape. For Kusakabe, this means he can comfortably wear a standard tie length (57–58 inches) instead of buying a bespoke or specialty tie (67–71 inches).

Nanami - Full Windsor

The Full Windsor is symmetrical and more formal than the Half-Windsor, which aligns with Nanami's structured, meticulous personality. While it's traditionally paired with wide collars, the fuller shape also works well with medium-sized collars (again, the best choice for a broad build). It pairs best with a heavier suit fabric like worsted wool, which is expensive but surprisingly durable.

Gege did the research -- this knot works best with patterned ties featuring a larger, spaced-out print. And men's suiting conventions actually recommend a golden yellow to complement a tan suit and blue shirt combination. Nanami is perfectly fine dropping $200 - $300 on a custom tie. This is the man out there fucking up curses while wearing a $5,000 Tag Heuer watch.

Since Nanami wraps a lot of fabric around his hand, the Full Windsor’s need for extra material makes perfect sense; it works best with longer ties. In terms of mechanics, the Full Windsor is also the easiest knot to undo, making it a practical choice in a fighting situation for Nanami, who doesn't waste time on anything.

JACKETS AND LAPELS Kusakabe - Black Jacket and Notched Lapels

The mid-notched lapel is a staple of classic suiting. (I'm including pictures of his trenchcoat as it has similar notching.) Though it’s not always visible in the manga, it is reasonable to assume that his single-breasted black suit includes a left chest pocket and boutonniere buttonhole — little details Kusakabe wouldn't overlook. His choice of a black suit is practical as always: stain-resistant (keeping the cursed spirit dry-cleaning bill in check) and low maintenance.

The mid-notched lapel is easily dressed up or down, mirroring Kusakabe’s ability to adapt without losing his sense of self. Every detail shows that he’s grounded in tradition but always prepared for the realities of the present.

Nanami - Tan Jacket and Peak Lapels

Nanami’s suit features sharp, angled peak lapels, which give it a more formal edge compared to the standard notch lapels. Like Kusakabe, he opts for a single-breasted design but with three buttons instead of two (we know he loves symmetry). This choice aligns with his look in the 2022 JJK Dolce & Gabbana collab, showing that the peaked collar is a style he favors, reflecting his appreciation for both luxury and craftsmanship.

His clothing, functional yet carefully selected, serves as an investment in both quality and precision. For Nanami, a polished image goes beyond appearance. It’s about the thoughtful, intentional choices he makes both professionally and personally.

Ultimately, Kusakabe and Nanami’s suits capture their personalities in different ways. Kusakabe’s style is about practicality and ease, with just enough polish to stay professional. On the other hand, Nanami goes for something sharp and more structured, with a high attention to detail. Each piece of their suits speak to the thoughtfulness behind their choices, reflecting the balance of simplicity and sophistication they each bring to their lives.

I DO NOT authorize use of this meta for other writing!

#kusakabesimp #jjk meta #look I know I'm crazy but tbh don't care #jujutsu kaisen meta #kusakabe atsuya #atsuya kusakabe #nanami kento #kento nanami #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk manga #jujutsu kaisen manga #kusakabe jjk #jjk kusakabe #jjk nanami #nanami jjk

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pastlivesxpastlie · 16 days ago

Text

I don’t wanna get in your way…

Vessel x m!reader • strangers to lovers

A snowstorm. A broken heater. Two lonely guys. What could go wrong?

strangers to lovers, instalove, shy!vessel, concierge!m!reader, they’re both clueless doormats, close proximity, snowed in together, flirting, teasing, consent and checking in, making out, slight praise kink, blowjob (vessel + reader receiving), brief deep throat, “mate” as a silly pet name

taglist: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @ivys-thick-juicy-thighs @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @kittydothedishes @intake-of-breath

🖤 18+ MDNI🖤

You’re not quite sure how you and everyone else in your sleepy tourist-trap of a town missed the announcement about snowstorm, but here you are fielding calls at the check-in desk about vacancies at the cabin (there were none), if the roads were clear over there (they were not), and if you’re open (“I answered didn’t I?” But you’d never say that). You have time for half an inhale after hanging up with someone before the phone rings again. After a closed mouth scream you answer through clenched teeth with a syrupy customer service voice.

“Thank for you calling Lodges at Eden, yes we’re open and yes we’re freezing here too, how can I help you today?”

“Uhm. Well,” the man on the other line starts. You look down at the phone and see the blinking light next to “Cabin 1.” Shit. It’s a guest. “Sorry to bother, mate, but uh…the heat’s playing up in Cabin 1. Is there a chance someone can come look at it? If not it’s totally fine or-“ Shit! It’s the handsome English guy who visits each December.

You wipe a hand down your face to muffle the heavy sigh. If this guy is having heat issues, then soon the rest of cabins probably would, too. And…you’re the only one working today who’s cared to learn how to work on the heat until the HVAC company can come out. So you’d have to face him after being snippy on the phone and face the bitter cold, all in one fell swoop.

“Sure, no problem. I can be over there in 10 minutes, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you. Really, take your time.”

This dude was too polite. You know how cold it can get even when the heat is working, and it’s almost like he’s resigned to it. You get your gloves on and shrug on your heavy jacket, setting out for the cabin. When you knock on the door, you’re greeted by your too-good-for-this-world guest who is pilled in a hoodie, sweats, a beanie, and a knit scarf. A lopsided smile tugs at his lips as he keeps one arm tucked against himself.

“Hey, you got here fast.”

“Of course I did—you need help.” You walk in and are immediately hit with a blast of cold air. It’s not the HVAC was out, the heater was out, leaving the blower working overtime to emulate a meat freezer. “Fuck,” you exclaim rubbing your hands together, “sorry. That was inappropriate but holy shit it is uninhabitable in here!” This gets a little chuckle from the guy. How is he not livid right now? You go to the thermostat and attempt to override the AC with your code, but it’s no use. You’re no HVAC professional and you don’t want to bullshit the guy. “Alright, so, it’s off now, but that doesn’t mean it will necessarily warm up in here.”

The tall guy nods and sucks in his lips, pondering something. You catch yourself studying his face, the gentleness of it. He looks like he couldn’t be moved to anger in the first place. He shudders from the cold and takes a shaky breath before speaking. “Right. Makes sense. Well, in that case, could I get some extra blankets? Don’t really want to venture out for new lodging and…I doubt you even have other vacancies or…”

“How are you not ballistic right now?” You ask with a hint of wonder.

He blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “S’not your fault, mate. Genuinely, I’ll be alright with more blankets.” His face is beet red from the cold and his shyness. It’s sweet. Something stirs in your belly. Sure you have fleeting crushes on guests—sometimes they’re flash-bang thoughts of how it would be to share the cabin with them for a night, other times you wonder what it would be like to explore your little town with them, hand in hand, seeing it through new eyes. But this was a very general warm, gushy, “heart-eyes,” feeling. Maybe you just felt bad for the guy. But then again he was being more than nice…he was being sweet. You take a deep breath and bite the bullet.

“Look. I don’t feel great about just giving you some blankets and calling it good. Hell, I don’t even think our spare space heater would do much. I…I’m renting a little apartment above the concierge office…check-in…thing… the heat in there always works. Too good sometimes. Stay there for the night. Or however long you need. And I wil—“

“What about you!?” He looks at you like you’ve asked him to do something unspeakable.

“I can…stay in here or…sleep in the lobby. No one is going to come in there when I close up. Because, it’s locked, and—“ you rub your neck and stare at the ground like it’s incredibly interesting. Your new tall friend cuts you off.

“If it’s for the night, just let me sleep on the couch or something. Come on, mate. Don’t…don’t set yourself on fire to keep me warm. You don’t even know me.” There’s a pause. He mindlessly licks and bites his lower lip as he studies your face for a second. “But, seems like we could friends.”

“…Yeah. Friends,” you say, breathless from his stare. “Well…I close up in about 30 minutes, but I have to put a work order in for the HVAC so, might be close to 45 minutes before I’m back in my room. So…you could uhm…” He looks around a bit awkwardly.”

“Right, yeah, I’ll, pack my stuff. Not a lot. Just here to write and…well you didn’t ask…” he says quickly as he starts stuffing things in a backpack.

“Hah, no worries. Just come to reception when you’re ready.”

“Yeah, cheers, man. Thank you.” No man has ever given you such a sincere thank you. Not here at least. Here, you were the fix-it and go-get-it boy. People said “thank you” but that’s because they knew you were just doing what you’re told. This guy seemed to genuinely appreciate you already. It was a strange, warm feeling. It felt nice, but that didn’t mean you needed to imagine him bundled up under a blanket on your couch as he typed away at his computer or what it might feel like to warm his hands with yours. It’s just a nice, friendly feeling. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

About an hour later, you’re wondering if he’s actually coming. You run through the different scenarios. Maybe the heater fixed itself (unlikely). Maybe he found somewhere else to stay (unsafe considering the roads, but fair). Or he noticed how you looked at him for a bit too long between sentences (highly likely, valid, and worthy of banishment). But the creak of the lodge door pulls you from your worries, and there he is. He gives you the same shy lopsided smile and awkwardly stands at the check-in desk. “Hi…do you have a honeymoon suite with a hot tub and mini bar available?” He asks sheepishly. His little attempt at breaking the tension is adorable and makes you chuckle.

“I am sooo sorry, but that suite is for couples only. So unless you’ve got someone you can call…” you tease. He rolls his eyes and laughs.

“Quite the single-phobic policy. Bet you came up with that one, yeah?” he shoots right back with a cocked eyebrow.

“I did. I get the satisfaction of hating lucky, happy couples when I book them and disappointing single people when I turn them away.” You shrug. “Just bring everyone down with me.”

He snorts but his face goes back to serious and stoic. “What a charming young man. Bet the girls love that.”

“They would if they could get me,” you joke as you look at your nails. He gets your meaning immediately and shakes his head.

“Oh, so we will definitely be friends then.” You’ve never locked up the lodge faster, but you don’t make it up to your room just yet. He presses you against the door, his excitement resting between his thigh and your ass. You let out a shaky sigh as his hands run down your sides. It’s a firm grip that tightens when he leans in pants against your ear. “How big’s that bed of yours up there, hm?”

“Big enough…” you grind back into him, “for spooning. Someone on top of the other. Take your pick.” He growls against your neck and timidly lets his hand trail below your belt. “Wait!”

He pulls back quickly with his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” He looks miserable and worried, making your heart melt.

“No, no,” you shoot forward and cup his face. “I just need to know your name.” He smiles has your thumb rubs over his bottom lip. You give him your name and lean forward a bit more. “And who do I have the privilege of sharing my bed with tonight?” His hands run down your back and cups your ass.

“Call me Ves,” he purrs before placing a sweet, chaste kiss on your pout. “….was that ok,” he asks, whispering shyly. Your eyes are still squeezed shut as you process how sweet he is all while being so goddamn tempting. You can only answer by leaning back in for another kiss. His face feels perfect in your rough hands, which are weathered from the cold and having to do so much work around the lodges. But he wants you to stay put. His arms snake around you as your fingers move to hold him right behind his ears. Ves moans in your mouth and gives your ass a firm squeeze. “Fuck, mate,” he pants.

“Hmm…is that what you’re into? Playing with your ‘mates’?” You chuckle with your tongue out.

“You have no idea.”

It’s a race to your attic apartment. Ves pops you with a little spank as he gets past you on the stairs. “Idiot. You won’t know which way to go with out me,” you call up to him. Damn this weasel of a man is fast. When you get to the second story corridor, he’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a sly smirk across his perfect lips.

“Does it always take you that long?”

“Are you always that fast,” you tease back as you unlock the door. Ves steps into your humble abode and puts his stuff down. It’s much toastier in here than most of the cabins, which almost seems unfair. He looks a bit sheepish, like maybe he’s changing his mind. “Hey…alright there?”

Ves looks up with a little smile. “You’re being…outrageously kind to me. And…hot. Why me?”

The question gives you pause. You consider your answer for a bit because you’re not doing this for moral gain and certainly not just to get laid. “I’ve worked a lot of stressful shifts here. I’ve had a stressful life. You’re one of the few strangers who has never asked me for anything. You were ready to freeze to keep me ‘inconvenienced,’ which by the way was just your perspective. So I ask you this…Ves…why not you?”

This elicits an eyeroll and tsk. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Like what?”

“The kind that…fuck…makes a pathetic man like me fall in love too fast.”

“Takes one to know one, perhaps…?”

In two quick steps he’s on you again. One hand holds the back of your head while the other snakes under your shirt. His hands are still cold, making you shiver. Ves pulls away for a second to chuckle at you before licking softly into your mouth. You capture his tongue between your lips and move as if you’re sucking him off. A throaty pathetic moan reverbs against your lips before you both stumble to the couch in a jumbled embrace. Ves stands up just to look down at you with a ravenous stare. “You want it?”

You’re out of breath as you sit lazily on the couch, head spinning. “Want…want…what?”

Ves smiles a little and his chest heaves a bit faster with his breath. “You know…don’t you.”

The thrill of finding another non-straight stranger who is your type clouded your judgements and inhibitions but it comes crashing down when you’re faced with this decision. You weren’t much of a thrill seeker like this. Hook-up culture wasn’t your thing but this felt different. Something rewarding could maybe come from this. But you also felt safe enough to say, “no. I don’t want it. I’ve never…never done it with another guy…but I know I want you, Ves. Would you still have me? Even if I’m…I’m not ready?”

The softness and tenderness in his face makes you want to cry. Is this moment even real? Ves shakes his head and chuckles softly. “You could make me sleep on this couch right now and never touch me again, and I would still wait for you to be ready.”

Your mouth quirks up in a surprised smile, your words sputtering a little as you take in the nicest thing you’ve heard from a lover. “What are you, a poet? And…why me?” you whisper.

Ves waves off your first question with a groan. “Why not you, hm?” Without moving your gaze you unbuckle your belt and start to take off your jeans. Ves kneels between your legs and takes over getting you naked. He’s not wasting anytime. You can see the flames of lust in his eyes as they land on your cock for the first time. He licks his lips and cracks his neck. “Got a preference? Hands versus mouth, that is.”

You want to say ‘anything please daddy whatever you think,’ but that’s a bit much right off the bat. “Uhm uh…no preference. Love both, honestly.”

Ves nods and grins as he moves closer. He massages your warm, hairy thighs and bites his lips as your tummy moves up and down quickly. “You like that? Muscles are tight…you work too much, huh?” He moves his hands up to lift your shirt, smiling and moaning softly as more of your skin is revealed. Leaning over, he places feather light kisses down your chest and stomach, his hoodie creating a soft, warm barrier between his body and your shaft. You’re desperate to feel him but there’s something about a guy on his knees looking cuddly and adorable and being desperate for your cock. He makes a show of kissing your belly and making his way to your lap again. He lets his left hand trail lazily along your stomach as he finally takes your cock. His eyes close but his face betrays how he really feels—he’s in heaven. A soft moan vibrates against you as he works only a bit of you at a time. This shallow mouth fucking is teasing but you feel like he’ll make it worth your while. He pulls off and lets a line of spit coat the head of your cock to keep it nice and lubed. Ves jerks your cock with a deft touch that makes your brain go blank. It looks exquisite in his wide hand…he makes it look exquisite.

“Ffffffuck, babe” you moan with your eyes rolling back. Your hand tangles with his hair when he sucks you again. You have no intention of maneuvering him, but you’re desperate to show any kind of affection. He doesn’t look up at you as he sucks you off, just closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy you. A strangled moan rips through you as Ves lowers his head further, letting the head of your cock just tap at his throat. “God…fuck Ves slow…slow down….”

Ves quickly retreats and sits back on his knees, panting. His lips are puffy and wet…he looks like a good boy. “Sorry.” You reply by sitting forward and pulling him in for a kiss. He pulls at your bottom lip with his, making your growl softly.

“Don’t apologize. You should be proud.” You move his hair a bit out of place to caress his temples. “Never apologize for being a good boy.”

Ves shakes his head and mixes a laugh with a sigh. “None of that, please.” You lean over and give him a chaste peck.

“I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you? With that Ves is on his feet pulling down his boxers and sweats. He moves to take off his hood but you stop him. “I like how it looks,” you say plainly before fixing your gaze to his throbbing cock. Before long it’s in your mouth…and he’s louder than you expected. His whimpers and grunts fill the room, interrupted only by your own moans and the occasional wet crackle of your throat being gently fucked. He can’t get his speaking voice above a whisper.

“You’re….you’re so good. Oh that’s it…fuuuuuck, love.” Ves holds your head with both hands and looks down at you. “I think you’re the good boy…you like hearing shit like that, huh?” His voice gets louder. “Like being used and praised?” He wrenches you off of him and stares at you as he tries to catch his breath. “Where’s your bed, mate?”

If you weren’t cock-drunk and totally gone for him you might be mad that he was still calling you “mate” but there was something about this chance encounter between barely-acquaintances that made it irresistible. You hop up and lead him to your room where you pull back your covers and land face first in your pillows. Ves pinned you against him, his hard cock rubbing against your ass as he writhes on you. He kisses and bites as your neck when your head falls back. His hand finds your cock again, and you revel in the warmth. “Feels s’fucking good,” you moan out. Your hand quickly shoots behind you to stroke Ves’s cock, but he stops you.

“Roll over, darling,” he growls against your skin. “Want to watch you.” You squirm and turn around to face him—he’s already stroking himself. “Show me what you like.”

“A-a-a-re you sure? You don’t want m-“

“Shh shh shh shh. Stroke yourself for me. Let’s watch each other.” You nod and bite your lip as you stroke yourself for him. After doing this an infinite number of times yourself, fucking your fist in front of Ves…it’s erotic. Pure pleasure for the sake of pleasure. He murmurs for you to “C’mere.” Desperate little kisses pepper your lips as the head of Ves’s cock rubs against your own, making your both moan into each others mouths.

“I’m not going to last long,” you huff.

“Me neither…s’fucking hot.”

“No, that’s you…”

Ves growls softly and quickly lifts his hoodie. “I’m imagining what you’d look like…ffffuck….bent over for me.” As he soon as he voices his fantasy, you’re imagining it too and bucking your hips into you fist harder.

“Keep talking.”

“You’d be…so…so good for me,” he whispers, “so fun to play with…just…fuck reach around and—“

He’s cut off by your gasping moan and how hot your cum is running over his knuckles…soon enough he’s cumming, too.

After you get cleaned up, you come to a little. What did you just do? Ves notices how solemn you’ve become and rubs your back. He asks if you want him to leave. You lean in, holding his face, and kiss him deeply. “Stay with me. Let’s figure this out together.”

Ves threads your hair through his fingers and studies your face. “Together.”

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boozenboze · 1 year ago

Text

That Fuckin Rat

Tf!141 x Fydor Dostoyevsky M!reader

Summary: It’s hard to believe that Makarov isn’t the main one behind the attacks, and that he had a little friend who had plenty of tricks up his sleeve’s.

Females DNI

Terrorists, we all hate them. Reasons all being obvious. Some were too sneaky, smart, and overall just a pain to society. Makarov was one of them, the man’s name being heard plenty times before. He was smug, extremely condescending, and practically unreadable. It had taken years for military to actually keep up with his antics.

Though of course, there is always someone else helping behind the scenes of someones dirty work. His name wasn’t known, hell there was barely any information on the man at all. What was known, was that he was assisting Makarov with his plans, though his motives were unclear.

______

It was a peaceful day on the streets of Chicago. People going out for a run, getting ready for work, kids going to school. Just usual things that you’d see on a week day. A man was sitting inside, legs crossed as he sat with his hands in his lap. He wore a white button up shirt, white pants, and ushanka hat. A waiter brought some tea to his table, her eyes having been locked on him since he’d walk in.

He was clearly a looker, from his natural facial features to his style. It all looked and gave distinguished gentleman. His eyes were slightly droopy, making him look tired, but the small smile he had on his face sad otherwise.

He nodded at the waiter, silent thanks as he took the cup in his hand, eyes closing. As he took a sip, another woman entered the establishment. She was older, wearing a blue button up shirt with a white jacket. Her dirty blonde hair brought up into a bun giving her a clean, professional look. She sat at a table near the Russian man, setting her computer down and typing something before calling a waiter over.

The man glanced over at the new customer in the establishment, humming before setting his tea back on the table. Due to his hair, the people around him would automatically miss the earpiece he had in his left ear. He spoke very lowly, so his words weren’t audible. Though as soon as he stood up he was met with a hand grabbing his arm, forcing him to sit back down.

His eyes widened, looking over to so a man. He was clearly older, hence the beard and more gruff appearance. His eyes were blue, and he wore a beanie atop his head.

“Excuse me, may I hel-”

“Close your mouth, listen closely.” The man spoke gruffly, hand still gripping the slimmer mans arm. “Your gonna exit out the back door, don’t draw attention to yourself. We don’t need things getting bloody, not here.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the s/c skinned male replied.

“And why would I, comply to such a request… hm?” The male questioned, looking down to see the mans other hand, that wielded a pistol. The h/c haired males facial expression held one of calmness with a mix of annoyance. He shifted his gaze to another table, noticing how a darker skinned male was eyeing him down, he squinted for a moment before looking forward again, sighing. He smiled, chuckling slightly, though there was no humor behind it.

“Ok…lets go.”

—————

Being dragged into the alleyway between two buildings wasn’t part if the plan, but here he was.

“I see you got him.” A woman, the same woman with the dirty blonde hair said as she followed out the door. The darker skinned man spoke up, looking back at her, hand’s keeping the Russian man from trying anything. The e/c eyed male had his head slumped downwards, eyes locked on the concrete beneath him.

“Getting closer our goal aren’t we Laswell.” The dark skinned male said, looking at the woman. He pulled the h/c haired male by the arms, making the males back bump into him with a light thud.

The woman, now identified as Laswell hummed. “This is part of it, though it’s quite obvious that we’d need more than just..” Laswell stopped talking, looking at the h/c haired male who hadn’t said a word since they exited the establishment. Another individual, with a mohawk was glaring at the man now in their custody, as well as another large man who was in the dark corner of the alley.

There wasn’t any struggle to put the man into the vehicle that the 5 peple had arrived in. He was seated in the back seat in the middle, now being trapped between the dark skinned male and the man with the mohawk. The woman sat in the passenger seat, while the older man sat in the drivers seat. The large man with the skull mask, sat in the very back of the vehicle, silent, though his presence was known.

They pulled out of the alleyway, the vehicle now going onto the road. After just listening to the 5 individuals address and converse with one another, it was clear that he’d just been taken by Military. He found it very odd that they found him in such a place at such time. He was always extremely careful when he made arrangements for…shipments, though he supposed anything was possible.

“So…would you mind telling me how you all found me?” The h/c haired male questioned, keeping his haze ahead. There was no response, only the sound of the engine revving being heard. The male scoffed, rolling his eyes before muttering “rude”.

——Timeskip——

Cuffed by the wrists and ankles on a chair in an interrogation room wasn’t something M/n was planning on.

What a pity, fools did all this just to catch little ol’ me? I must say I’m flattered. M/n thought to himself, sly grin creeping onto his face as he threw his head back and chuckled.

“Hello~ anyone there? You’re not the only ones who have plans ya know!~” m/n called out, not getting a response due to him being the only one in the room….Well, not exactly, if you count the cameras that the 141 was watching him from.

————

“So, who wants to give it a try.” Price spoke, his response being silence from the other 3 men. Gaz looked to the side awkwardly, Soap whistling in attempts to seem like he wasn’t listening, and Ghost was standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed. He looked annoyed, possibly because of the current situation. The man’s voice irked him, and not in a good way.

This man had assisted Makarov…only God knows how many times throughout the years, and now he’s here. Something was wrong though. They caught him too easily, and the way he just cooperated didn’t really sit right.

They’ve heard the rumors that had circulated around him, one person describing him to be soulless. Like a vampire, which is one spot on comparison since he looks like one. The look in his eyes had anything but genuine emotion, more malice then anything.

Ghost had seen it all, quite literally during his time on the field. He had no tolerance for slackers and cockiness, and when things needed to get done, they were sure as hell gon done with him. So as he emerged from the darkness of the corner he was in, attention being drawn to him due to the slight ruffling noise of him moving.

“I’ll handle this.” Ghost spoke, voice rough with his Manchester accent being firm. Seems like the lieutenant wants to get this over with as soon as possible, as he left the room. As the door shut behind him, Price smirked and shook his head in amusement.

“Don’t think LT’s gonna blow the guys head off eh?” Soap asked jokingly, not completely forgetting whom they were dealing with.

“Think you mean the other way around.” Gaz replied, looking at the security cameras, seeing the door open to the room their capture was in.

————

M/n looked towards the door, eyebrows raised as he watched Ghost enter the room. His larger figure towering over him in an intimidating manner. Despite this, M/n wasn’t nervous at all. Instead, a cocky grin came upon his features.

“Well this should be interesting.” M/n spoke, tilting his head to the left, hat following in suit as Ghost sat in the chair across from him.

The bigger man crosses his arms, glaring at the man who seemed completely unfazed by his appeal. Ghost was intrigued, sitting back before speaking up.

“Let’s make this quick, you’re working with Makarov and you’ve been supplying him with explosives.” Ghost spoke firmly, voice being the loudest thing in the room besides their breathing.

M/n smirked, looking at Ghost with mischief within his e/c eyes.

“Indeed I have.” M/n spoke, shifting in his chair to sit up straight. “I must say i’m quite impressed that you sll were able to catch me.”

M/n stared right into Ghosts skull, eyes practically stabbing into his entire being. Ghost didn’t falter, reciprocating the stare behind his mask.

“So, do you all plan on keeping me here or-”

“Makarov’s planning an attack somewhere, but we haven’t been able to get a lead on where.” Ghost said, cutting him off quickly. “You work with him, your his supplier, therefore you know where he is.”

Ghost spoke sternly, staring M/n down with a cold and empty look. M/n hummed, chuckling and throwing his head back before looking down into his lap.

“I do, but I have no intention to tell you.” M/n stated, Russian accent making his voice sound oddly mesmerizing. Sexy if anything.

Ghost stared at him, a few minutes of silence going by before he stood up and walked over to M/n. He stood above him, looking down at the restraint man before wrapping his hand around his neck. The s/c skinned male let out a groan, feeling the hand tighten around his neck. He let out an airish chuckle, glaring up at Ghost who glared back.

The male took in a large amount of air when he was released, clearing his throat before speaking up.

“Well that isn’t very polite now isn’t it?” M/n spoke, looking up at Ghost with slightly hooded eyes. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want.”

M/n rose his hands in defeat, cuffs making a slight clinking sound when he did. Ghost hummed, going back to sit in his chair.

“If you’re gonna talk, do it now.” Ghost said, being completely serious with his words, belligerence underneath his current calm demeanor.

M/n grinned, fixing his position in his chair.

“Makarov is actually planning on attacking close by.” M/n said, looking Ghost in the eye. He didn’t miss how Ghost’s eyes widened, brown irises holding shock.

“You pulling my leg?” Ghost questioned, sitting up. His demeanor changed dramatically, a sense of urgency now in his actions. M/n gave him a blank face, tilting his head before smiling.

“Yeah, besides its not like you’d be able to find him anyway.” M/n said cockily, giving a mischievous smirk. “You soldiers are too easy to get over on, and the only reason you believed me is because I’m hot and have Russian accent.”

Ghost felt like he was seething now, glaring at M/n before standing up.

“Fucking rat.”

Ghost spat before leaving the room. This wasn’t like him, but something about M/n really got under his skin.

A/n: this was lowkey rushed, and I have some editing to do 😅

#gay #male y/n #cod x male reader #gaz x male reader #lgbtq #mw2 x male reader #captain price x male reader #male reader #soap x male reader #ghost x male reader

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