#he also just ties it in a bun for him sometimes

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Mr. Russell

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: when you’re digging into secrets of dangerous people, you might get burned or…

Warning: this is pure filth, SMUT, 18+, cursing, spanking, reader being tied up, maybe dark theme?, unprotected sex, mafia!George, no use of Y/N

A/N: I am sick this week and laying bored in my bed made me wrote this. I hope you enjoy it!

My mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that I woke up tied to the bed, in the bedroom I have no recollection of getting into, completely naked.

“I see, you’re awake, darling.”

The voice of a man was heard beside me. Laying on my stomach with my head towards the direction of the window it was very hard to turn to that voice, but I tried my best. It was George. George Russell. The mafia boss everybody warned me about. And I didn’t listen.

“Tsk, tsk. You were a very bad girl. Poking into secrets that you know nothing about. You should’ve been careful. But.. you were so goddamn curious, weren’t you? So, I thought that you’d be happy to experience some of that secrets for yourself.”

My mouth was dry, I swallowed hard as I listened to him. Working as an investigative reporter, it was my job to look through some cases to make my articles interesting. There were some rumours, that Russell had his own sex club, and that alone wasn’t so bad, but also drugs were involved along with some torture and violence, leading to deaths of clients and sometimes even of the “employees”.

Reels of my thoughts was interrupted by his hand on my cheek, caressing it lightly, tracing gently along my jaw.

“Speechless now, huh? You know, I can make you talk.”

“No, no, I’m gonna talk, just don’t, please.”

My voice sounded desperate and hopeless, exactly what he wanted. Trying to move my hands, the restrains dug more into the delicate flesh of mine, the soft whimper leaving my mouth.

George chuckled, when he got up from the bed, walking around it to stand right behind me. I couldn’t see much, but I bet that he liked what he was looking at. Next thing I know was his hands slipping under my stomach, pulling me upwards by my hips.

“Ass up, darling. You’re a sight for sore eyes. This is how you should be - naked, desperate and completely at my mercy. But no, you’d rather dig into shit to get informations for your stupid articles about me.”

“G-George, I-“

“For you, I’m Mr. Russell.”

And with that he slapped my ass. Hard.

“Fuck… Mr. Russell.” Choked whimper escaped my mouth as I was shocked, what just happened.

“That’s my good girl.”

His hands caressed the flesh of my ass, squeezing it and massaging it. My face was flushed with embarrassment, because, believe it or not, I liked that. A lot.

“You wanted to say something, darling? I interrupted you.” He spoke so casually, like this whole situation wasn’t even happening.

“I wanted to say, that- that I never intended to interrupt your business. I didn’t want that informations for articles, it was just my own curiosity.”

“And I am supposed to believe you, huh? Because I can’t, sweetheart. I saw the drafts you wrote.”

“But-“

Another slap across my ass. This time I felt the tingling and my toes on my feet curled from it as I bit into my lip to suppress a moan.

“You’re a fucking liar, darling. And I hate liars.”

I wasn’t able to say something else, because he spanked my ass for another five times. Delicate flesh of my behind stung and surely was red, his hands marked deeply into my skin. I was panting, tears burning in my eyes, because it fucking hurt. My body, on the other hand, had its own way to betray me.

“Ah, darling, you’re a naughty girl. Look how wet you got just from a little spanking session. We’re gonna have a lot of fun together. Unfortunately, I think that you’re not gonna get back to your usual job. Maybe I will keep you as my fucktoy from now on.”

I wanted to protest, but he was always a step ahead of me, his fingers now teasing my leaking pussy. That made me shut up instantly. Just as his fingertips traced the way to my sensitive bundle of nerves, I moaned softly and I knew it made him smile.

“Mmm… I can’t wait to claim you. You make me unbelievably hard, baby. Consider yourself special, it’s not happening often, because I’m not quite impressed by anybody.”

His voice was laced with lust and desire, it was like a music for my ears, getting straight to my core, to clench around nothing, craving him, aching for his cock to fill me.

“Please…”

“Please what, darling? Use your words. Tell me, what you want.”

Embarrassed by my neediness, I buried my head into the pillow, feeling the tension in my shoulders from the way I was tied up to the headboard.

Humming in disapproval, his fingers slid through my soaked folds, poking at the entrance, my back arching from the sensation.

“You need to say it, baby. Without that, I’m just gonna tease you to the oblivion. I can do that all night.”

Now I could feel his breath fanning over my aching core, my arms pushing against the restraints.

“I want you to eat my pussy, George, fuck, please. Please!”

I let out a loud plea, begging him to taste my arousal, to relieve the tension in my lower belly.

He just tsked at my desperate attempt, his fingers smearing my wetness across my ass cheek.

“You forgot about something. I thought I made that clear earlier.”

My mind was hazy from the desire and arousal but then I remembered.

“Please, make me cum with your mouth, Mr. Russell.”

“I knew you’re a good girl, darling.”

With that words, I felt his hot lips on my wet pussy, lapping on my bundle of nerves, while sliding his fingers inside me, stretching me out. Loud moans of mine filled the room, it was like ecstasy, my legs trembling from how good he was. I tried to move my hips a little, to get more from him but his strong arm kept me in place, just like he wanted. At first he made slow circles around my swollen nub, his fingers deep inside me, poking at my sweet spot, but then he picked up the pace with his fingers, while he was practically latched on my clit. That was too much, overwhelming feeling and I was a moaning mess, gasping for air, closer and closer to my climax.

Suddenly he stopped, getting away from me and I shifted in disapproval that he didn’t make me cum.

“W-why-“

“Shhh. Don’t worry. You’ll get to cum. But I want to feel that around my cock.”

I heard him undoing his pants, freeing his rocking hard length and as far as I could see, he smeared his cock with my juices he still had on his fingers from a while ago. It made him go feral, nearly cumming instantly of how erotic that was.

“Please, Mr. Russell. Fuck me. Fuck me like a whore.”

I didn’t care about my reputation or my image after this. I needed him, his cock seemed perfect to fill me up good and it was all that mattered now. My pussy was so worked up, dripping with arousal that I would do anything to have him.

“You’re my whore. Remember that.”

He said almost breathlessly, teasing me with his cock as he neared with it to my entrance. With one slow motion he pushed into me, stretching me to the limits, while I was nearly screaming from the overwhelming pleasure. I heard his huff along with chuckle, he was really satisfied with his making, giving my ass one slap before he started moving his hips against mine.

My brain went blank, my sight blinded as I let out a choked moans, saying his name in raspy voice, my throat dry from all that.

“You love this cock, right? Nobody can ever make you feel like this. Nobody can ever make this pussy so wet like me.”

His words made my mind spinning, I was so cockdrunk that I was drooling into the pillow. Each of his hard thrust was like a heaven for my sweet spot inside me, getting me closer and closer to release.

“Oh- my-“

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you? Huh? You think you deserve it?”

I nodded yes, desperately.

“Hm. Cum for me, darling.”

With another stretching thrust I felt my pussy tightening around him, slipping over the edge of my arousal, giving me the most toe curling orgasm I ever experienced. My body was writhing underneath him, his hand slapping my ass again to heighten my pleasure even more.

As I was coming down from my high, I also felt him twitching inside me, his pace picking up, riding to his high.

“That’s it, baby girl, I’m gonna fill you up, you’re gonna be dripping. I- ah- fuck!”

George couldn’t even finish the sentence, how he was caught off guard when my pussy squeezed him once more, ending with him painting my inner walls with his precious seed. He nearly collapsed onto me, how much he was done, breathing heavily like if he just ran a marathon.

After a while I decided to speak up. “G-George… my arms.. it hurts.”

George got out of the trance as he carefully slid out of me, kneeling beside me to untie the restraints on my hands that surely will leave marks. Then he laid down on the bed, pulling me closer to him, making me whimper a little, feeling my body sore and stiff.

“Was it the way you imagined it?” George placed a soft kiss in my hair, caressing my back lovingly.

“Mhm… much better than that, actually.” I hummed with smile.

“I enjoyed it too. We should do this role play thing more often. I felt powerful as a dangerous mafia boss.” He chuckled as he spoke.

“My dangerous Mr. Russell. You know how hard it is to say that when you’re begging for something?”

“You didn’t think that I would go easy on you, did you?”

He captured my lips in tender kiss, giving me all comfort and love I needed after that rough session.

———

Please don’t use my writings without permission! Pictures not mine, they’re from Pinterest.

[the-sun-is-also-a-star]

sirius ties remus' shoes for him (particularly around the full) because his knees trouble him and remus braids sirius' hair for him because his ma taught him how.

[carmenberzattosgf]

NSFW alphabet : carmen berzatto

Content: fem reader, pure filth, size kink (easily skippable), daddy kink (easily skippable), dom/sub dynamics,

Word count: 5605

A/N: This is really filthy. I got a bit carried away as you can tell by the word count. Enjoy ! <<3

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

He’s a clinger. Carmy gets needy and touchy after sex, so he’s not going to leave your side. After normal sex, he lays on top of you for awhile because he loves the closeness of the physical contact. He’s pressing kisses all over your neck and mumbling how much he loves you over and over again. When it’s finally time to get up, he’s bringing a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean up between your legs. He’s so sweet and tender in moments like this, diligent in cleaning up the cum from your thighs. 

After a dom/sub type of scene, Carmy takes such good care of you. Beforehand he stashes everything he needs beside the bed so he doesn’t have to leave you afterwards. He stores the supplies in a wicker bin: pH balanced sensitive skin-safe wipes, a bottle of water, protein bars and other snacks (i.e chocolate), soothing ointment, your favorite t-shirt of his, hair ties, and even one of those instant ice packs if you need it. 

If you’re in that floaty place, he narrates every single thing he’s doing. Even though you can’t speak, he still wants to make sure you’re aware of what he’s doing before he does it.

“Okay, baby I’mma put your hair up into a messy bun to get it off your neck.”

“It’s going to be a little bit cold at first but I’m using these wipes to clean up between your legs.”

“I’m going to roll you over so I can take care of your bottom, and put some ointment on for you. I’ve already got a pillow to support your stomach.”

Carmy is so gentle while he takes care of you. It’s his favorite part of a scene, not getting off, but tending to you.

“Sweetheart, I need you to try and sit up so you can take some sips of water. Can you do that for me?” 

You’re stubborn and just wanna fall asleep in that floaty place so Carmen literally has to prop you up with pillows and force a straw between your lips. 

“Three big sips—there we go. Atta girl, good job.”

The best part of aftercare is saved for last, cuddling. Carmy lays you on top of his chest so you’re not laying on your raw backside, and softly pets your hair until you fall asleep. 

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He likes his hands. They do everything for him in the kitchen. They’re skilled and precise. Carmy is not the type of guy to be really into parts of his body, but his hands are alright. 

Now for you, he genuinely loves all of your body. Your face, your eyes, everything. However, he’s a major boob guy. He likes them in all sizes. He just loves tits (peep the mommy issues). One of his favorite parts of sex is getting to leave bite marks all over your chest. Send him a nude with your tits in it? Bye! He’s a goner. 

Thighs come in close second. He grips your thighs so hard during sex that sometimes you can make out small finger sized bruises in the mirror afterwards. Much like your boobs, he loves to mark up your thighs with hickies. He knows that he’s the only one that gets to see those marks so he leaves a bunch. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s obsessed with cumming inside of you. The sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt for the first time permanently rewires his brain. He’s convinced there’s no better feeling that filling you up with his cum. He’s nasty about it too, pressing any that has dripped out of you back into your cunt with his fingers. 

“Gotta keep you nice and filled up for me. I don’t want anything to go to waste. Here—“ He reaches for a pillow and lifts up your hips, placing it under your back. “There we go. Now it can’t spill out.” 

If he can’t cum inside of you, he cums on your stomach. The thing about Carmy is that he cums a lot, like the volume is massive. When he cums on your stomach, you’re covered in him. He’ll be fisting his cock for a good twenty seconds before the spurts of cum finally slow down. It’s all over you, dripping off of your hips onto the sheets. The first thing Carmy does is reach over for his phone on the bedside table. He takes a picture of you from the neck down, completely painted with white. The picture immediately goes into his locked camera folder. 

Finally, Carmy would rather cum in your mouth than on your face. He doesn’t want to get any in your eye. He’s truly a sweetheart (sometimes). Once, you stuck out your tongue full of cum for him, and his hard on came right back. His body was ready to go again after seeing his cum drip off of your tongue, down your neck, and into your cleavage. He’s a simple man at heart.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really wants to try shibari with you, like really bad. He’s been researching heavily into it, about all of the knots and the types of rope. He doesn’t want to get into serious stuff like suspension, but he wants to cover your body in pretty and elaborate knots. Carmy’s mainly focused on the types of shibari that restrains your arms behind your back, making your chest jut out. He wants to surround your breasts with intricate knots. He might mess around with some patterns on your hips and thighs, but he’d rather tie up your arms, not your legs.  

He’s drawn to shibari because it’s almost mixing art intimacy ( because shibari doesn’t have to involve sex or pleasure). It’s a time that he can spend getting close to you while you’re letting go and trusting him completely. The tying up process isn’t short; it can take awhile. He thinks it would make your relationship stronger, and also let him be dominate in a way that’s different from just straight up sex. 

It will take him a very very long time to ever bring it up to you, though. He doesn’t want to freak you out or make you uncomfortable. He understands how much control a person is giving up when someone restrains them. 

In all seriousness, you probably ask him about it after you see a tab open on his laptop. He’s already left for work for the day and forgot to close out the tab. You grab his laptop, wanting to do the daily mini, and when you open it up, you’re met with an in depth rope tying tutorial. 

You decide to tread carefully on the topic when he gets home from work that day, since it seems like he was keeping it a secret. Once he’s gotten a shower, Carmy curls up with you on the couch to watch a little tv before going to bed. 

“I saw something interesting today, Carm.”

“Yeah? What might that be, baby?”

“Well, I was using your laptop to do the daily mini like I always do, and I saw a tab pulled up. Something to do with ropes?” Carmy instantly tenses up like he’s entered freeze mode. 

“Oh—uh, uhm. Sorry you’re probably like—freaked out now and—“ Carmy says quickly, without taking a breath. He’s on the verge of hyperventilating. 

“Baby, baby. Calm down. You’re all good. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” You start to comb through his hair with your fingers, massaging at his scalp in a way that relaxes him. “Why don’t you tell me all about it, yeah?” 

He does just that, explaining shibari and all the research he’s done into it. Carmy’s a bit surprised when you agree to it without any hesitation. 

“You know you don’t have do to this for me. I’m not going to be upset if you say no.”

“I trust you, Carmen. I love you and I know you’ll take care of me and keep me safe. If I don’t like it I’ll be honest with you.”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

This one is going to heavily depend on when you get into a relationship with Carmy. When he’s newly in New York, trying to become the greatest chef of all time? He’s horribly inexperienced. He barely knows how to interact with the opposite sex without getting red in the face. However, he’s eager to learn! He might not know exactly what he’s doing in the moment with you, but he wants you to feel good. He’s determined to make you orgasm. He asks what feels good and what doesn’t feel good. Carmy’s not afraid to ask you questions during sex either.  

Now if you meet him after he’s back in Chicago, he has more experience under his belt. New York and all of the places he traveled to during those years away from home gave him opportunities to become more confident with sex. Although, he still gets nervous about it, especially when he’s sleeping with someone for the first time. The awkwardness hasn’t gone away completely. 

At this point in your relationship with Carmy, he knows what he’s doing. He pays attention to your body and the way you react to his touch. Carmy learns what you like before you even have the chance to tell him. Every touch of his hands is purposeful to bring you pleasure. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Missionary. No question about it. He wants to be able to look at you while he fucks you. He loves the closeness of the position, getting to feel your legs wrapped around his waist. It’s so intimate, and Carmy craves that intimacy. His favorite part of missionary is when you both are so close to the edge, with your foreheads resting against each other. He gets to look in your eyes and praise you. “You’re so pretty. So fucking gorgeous—fuck, baby.” 

“Taking me so well— always take me so well.” “Love you, love you, love you so much.” 

Oh, and his other favorite part about missionary is getting to kiss you. He fucking loves kissing you during sex. Sure, it’s messy, with teeth and lips clashing together half the time, but he cannot get enough of your mouth. That moment when you have to break the kiss to moan out because of how good he feels inside of you is what he loves about kissing you in missionary. 

Carmy also enjoys anything that lets him see your face. With your legs over each of his shoulders, he’s found he can hit even deeper inside of you. Don’t worry, he puts a small pillow underneath the small of your back to make you comfortable. The angle makes your eyes roll back. 

If he’s honest with himself he fucking loves the position where he practically forces your thighs to meet your chest. His cock his so fucking deep inside of you he just has to make comments about it. “That too deep? Yeah? Can you feel me in your stomach?” Oh, and when he starts pressing his hand on your lower stomach so you can feel him moving in and out of you? The sensation is almost too much. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

This is Carmen Berzatto here. He’s so serious about everything, and that applies to sex, too. He’s just not the type to joke around during sex. He craves the intimacy of sex and doesn’t want to make light of the connection. That doesn’t mean sex with Carmy is overly serious. More so that he would rather not incorporate humor into sex. 

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carmy is so neat and meticulous. He literally cuts pieces of tape with a knife so it has a clean edge. With all things considered, he keeps it neat downstairs. Definitely not bald, but he trims up frequently. He cannot stand it when it’s crazy down there. 

For his partner? He does not give a fuck about the grooming of down there. Not one single bit. Do whatever you want and he will still be a happy man. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

So intimate. Genuinely, he’s so romantic. Carmy’s kissing all over your body, praising every inch of your skin. It’s honestly jarring at first how intimate and intense he can be in the bedroom. Carmy puts his all into sex, much like he puts his all into the kitchen. He holds you so close the entire time. If you’re riding him on the couch? Yeah, he’s got both arms wrapped around you so your chest is pressed to his. This lets him make eye contact if he wants, or lets him moan into the crook of your neck. Carmy literally wants as much of his skin touching yours as possible during sex. Even if he has you on your stomach, he’s not going to settle for just doggy style because there’s not enough contact. Instead he’s leaning over you holding you up so your back presses against his chest. He sloppily kisses your shoulders and the back of your neck from this position. 

Let’s talk about eye contact—he’s staring right through you. He’s just so observant and doesn’t want to miss a single expression you make. God, the look in his eyes during sex practically puts you under a spell. He looks down at you through the bottom of his eyes with blown out pupils. 

So yeah Carmy makes sex extremely intimate every time without fail. 

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Most of the time when Carmy jacks off it’s all about efficiency. He’s not trying to take time out of his day to get off. He’s the type to get off in the shower after work. It’s quick and rough, but he knows how to get himself off fast. 

Now, when you first come into his life? His routine changes a bit. Before you two start dating, Carmy masturbates to the idea of you. He honestly hates himself a bit for it, but it happens on accident. 

He hops out of the shower after work, puts on a pair of boxer briefs, and sits down on his couch. He didn’t touch himself in the shower, wanting to build up the tension a little bit.

When Carmy starts touching himself, his hands move slowly. Recently, he’s learned how much he likes teasing himself. So, he palms over his covered length, applying the right amount of pressure to make his hips twitch. Without even realizing it, Carmy’s mind wanders to you. 

You’ve been plaguing his mind all week long in the kitchen. Sydney assigned your prep to be right next to his, and he hasn’t been able to keep his mind off of you. In the kitchen, he keeps getting distracted by your pretty smile, and by the little jokes you make during the lunch rush. 

Gradually, the hand steadily pressing down on his hard length isn’t his own anymore. Instead he pictures your hand as the one working on him; that delicate, dainty hand of yours he’s watched prep food all week. 

Carmy gives up on teasing himself once the images of you pop into his head. He hastily pushes down his boxers to his thighs. The tip of his cock leaks with precum, dripping onto his length. Carmy’s head falls back in a choked moan when he finally grips himself. His heart races as he gently strokes his cock. It’s much different from his usual fast pace, but he’s trying to picture how you would do it; on how your hands would be so delicate compared to his callused ones. Carmy wonders if you would tease him, or if you would be dead set on bringing him to orgasm quickly. 

It’s a slippery slope when Carmen starts to picture you taking his cock into your mouth. His hand starts to pump faster as the image grows more vivid in his mind. He’s lost the gentleness of his movements, but he doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about is the vision of you on your knees in front of him. Your lips are swollen as they stretch around his cock. He thinks about the sounds you would make—how you would moan with his dick taking up your mouth. Spit would dribble from your lips onto your chin as you bob your head on his length. What brings him to the edge, though, is the idea of fucking your face. He would hold your head delicately in his hands, but thrust with his hips deep into your throat. Tears would slip from your eyes as he shoves you all the way down so your nose meets the skin above his dick. 

Carmy cums hard all over his stomach, wishing it was your throat instead. He swears he blacks out for a second from the pleasure. When the post orgasm clarity hits, he hastily cleans himself up. Carmy tells himself he won’t do it again, picture you while he’s masturbating, but he knows that’s a load of bullshit. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding— Carmy and breeding go together like peanut butter and jelly. It’s why he’s always cumming inside of you. He wants to show everyone your his, and what’s a better way than knocking you up with his kid? He’s low key obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. 

Overstimulation— Carmy’s a soft dom. He wants to make you cum over and over and over again before he even thinks about orgasming. His goal is for your head to be spinning by the end of it. 

Spanking— Carmy’s into spanking, okay? However, before he even thinks about doing it in the bedroom he talks to you about it multiple times at length. He clarifies a safe word with you and establishes your limits. You do the same thing with him because safe words and boundaries go both ways! Normally, he’s only going to spank you as a punishment for something. The way you whimper and moan in his lap as he spanks you makes him so hard. It honestly gives Carmy a rush to see you dripping from his hand coming down on your ass. 

Size kink— It’s definitely arises from insecurities about his height, let’s be honest here. Regardless of your height though, Carmy just likes feeling that he’s bigger than you. It’s why he’s so ripped. No matter how tall you are he’s got enough muscle to hold you down in bed. Now, if you are shorter than him, even better. 

The size kink appears in other ways other than just pure body size. For one, it drives him crazy how much smaller your hands are compared to his. Seeing your dainty hand wrapped around his cock drives Carmy up the wall. You can barely wrap your fingers all the way around his length. 

He loves to watch as your cunt takes his fingers. They’re so much wider and longer than your own, so he goes slow. 

Finally, his size kink comes into play most when he’s fucking you. He’s soothing you while he works his cock into your cunt. Once he’s all the way in, he can’t help but point out of the sight of him inside of you. “Look. You see that?” Carmy asks while drawing your attention to the small bulge in you stomach, right above your mound. It’s hard to see when he’s not moving, so he lightly thrusts in deeper so the bulge moves. 

“F-fuck, yeah— I can see that,” you whine in response. Carmy’s hand moves over the bulge and he presses down, hard, before he starts rolling his hips into you at a quick pace. 

“Such a good girl taking my cock like this. I’m surprised it even fit, baby. Taking me so fucking well.”

Praise— He loves giving praise and being praised. He’s calling you everything. His love, his good girl, his princess, his baby. He’s telling you how good you’re doing for him, and how perfect you are for him. 

“Made for me. You know that? Fucking perfect.”

“You’re so pretty. My pretty girl.” 

“I love you so much. Fuck—you feel so good, squeezing me like that—shit.”

And you offer praise back in return because goodness knows Carmy needs to hear it after all those years being insulted in the kitchen. 

“You’re so pretty, too. You make me feel so good, Carmy.”

“Love these muscles,” you say while feeling his abs as he thrusts into you. “So hot how strong you are, baby.” Those types of comments from you make his brain short circuit. 

Daddy kink— Okay, nothing turns him on more than being called daddy. It just, does something to his brain. A pretty girl like you? Calling him daddy? Begging him to fuck you? Yeah, he’s close to cumming in his pants from that. It’s just the soft dom thing he has going for him. He wants to take care of you in every way possible, make you feel good, and provide for you. 

“Please daddy, need you,” you beg. 

“I got you sweet girl. Daddy’s going to take care of you, don’t worry.”

L= Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers a good old mattress. It’s basic but it’s private and comfortable. Carmy also likes fucking on a couch, too. Mainly because if he’s started getting hot and heavy on a couch, he’d rather fuck you there than carry you to the bedroom. He’s all about efficiency!

Part of him enjoys fucking at the restaurant. Not all the time, though, but there’s something about fucking you in a locked office that really gets him going. He has to keep his palm clasped over your mouth to keep you quiet. Whenever he has sex with you at the restaurant, it’s always fast, rough, and passionate. Usually, it’s to release stress, but even if it’s not, you’re going to have trouble walking straight afterwards. Richie makes an all knowing face when you walk out of the office, and heat builds up in your cheeks as you get out of the front doors as fast as possible. 

Oh, and Carmy loves to get on his knees and eat you out while you’re sitting on the kitchen counter at his apartment. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything. Anything at all. When he’s into someone, he’s into them. Your touch alone can be enough to turn him on. 

With that being said, there are some specific things that drive Carmy crazy. For one, you wearing his clothes. 

One time you walked into the Bear before opening hours wearing one of his classic white t-shirts. He thought he was about to have a brain aneurysm seeing you in his clothes. The way the fabric draped over your body— yeah he had to take you back into the office as soon as you walked into the restaurant. 

Speaking of clothes, dresses and skirts are his favorite articles of clothing on you. He thinks that you look so very pretty in them, and he also likes the easy access. 

As mentioned in K, if you whisper anything in his ear involving the word “daddy”, he’s dragging you off somewhere immediately. 

Thinking about this specifically at some kind of chefs’ gala. Carmen’s been in a circle of chefs from around the area talking for what feels like hours, now. All you want to do right now is go home. You make your way up to Carmy, and balance on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Are you going to be done soon, daddy? I’d rather go home and spend time with you.”

You can see the way Carmy’s hands tighten around the glass in his hand before he speaks to the people around him. “If you’ll excuse me, folks. My girl isn’t feeling well so I’m going to take her home. Glad to have gotten to talk to you all.”

Yeah, Carmy drives to the darkest part of the parking lot and tells you to get into the back seat. He can’t wait until he gets home to fuck your brains out. 

N = No (Something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

Anything that would actually hurt you. He limits stuff like spanking to just his hand. He refused to use anything else for impact play. He won’t do CNC ever. Like never ever. 

Carmy also won’t be a full on sub himself. He loves control, and needs to be in control to have a good time. The idea of losing control and being tied up is enough to send him into a panic attack.  

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Carmy loves eating pussy. He wants to stay in between your legs all day long. He won’t shut up about how good you taste. “So good, baby. Wanna taste some?” He’ll say before pressing a soaking wet finger to your lips. 

There’s so much to say about munch Carmen. He’s so fucking good at it, too. He alternates between licking and sucking at your clit in a way that makes your vision go blurry. He knows enough about your anatomy to pull back the hood with his thumb so he can suck right on the exposed bud. The first time he does it, you swear stars explode in your field of vision. 

He just LOVES eating you out! He gets to look up at you with those big blue eyes as you writhe against his face in pleasure. It makes him feel useful and needed, if he’s being honest. He could probably cum just from eating you out. The feeling of your fingers tugging in his hair, the sounds of your cries in his ears, and the pressure of your thighs closing around his head makes Carmy moan into your cunt like a madman. 

So yeah Carmy prefers to give head, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop you from blowing him. He tends to not last as long, though. Your warm mouth around him, sucking and licking at his tip. The way your take him all the way back in your throat. Fuck— the feeling of you gagging around him as his cock hits the back of your throat. He’s praising you the entire time, too. 

“Look at you—fuck. Taking my cock in that pretty mouth of yours so well.”

“So good, baby. So fucking good with your mouth—holy shit.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

The answer is all of the above. Most of the time he prefers to take his time with you because he wants to savor the moment with you. Carmy’s favorite way to fuck you is slow and deep. He wants you to feel him all the way in your stomach. If he’s in a mood, however, he’s all for being fast and rough. Ultimately his pace is going to be whatever gets you off the best. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies aren’t his favorite thing ever, but he has them often. He hates how busy his work is purely because it prevents him from having  sex with you as often and as long as he would like to. Quickies usually happen at the restaurant in his office. That’s where a fast and rough pace comes into play, because there’s one goal in mind; Get off, and get off fast before someone notices. If there’s just way too many people in the restaurant, he’s not opposed to taking you in the backseat of his car for a quick fuck. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Oh he’s for sure open to experimenting in the bedroom. He will try just about anything that you’re willing to try. 

As for risks, he’s down to take calculated risks. However, once he fucked you in the restaurant bathroom while the place was still the beef because the office didn’t have a lock (He fixed that during the remodel). It was all going great until Fak started banging on the door shouting that he was about to piss himself. Real mood killer. Now, Carmy is more careful about the risks he takes. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Carmy can last for quite awhile. He has so much pent up energy that he can keep going and going. He won’t admit it, but he one hundred percent thinks about his time at Noma to keep himself from cumming. He only has to do it sometimes, though. 

Additionally, Carmy is a two rounds max kind of a guy. There’s just only so many times that he can cum before he’s going to pass out from exhaustion. Remember, he did fall asleep on a prep table that one time. 

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Carmy doesn’t haven’t any toys for himself. His hand has always done the job, and he saw no reason to get something else. 

With you, he’ll use a toy from time to time, but it’s rare. He’d much rather make you squirm with his own hand, or his mouth than with a toy. It gives him a sense of pride when he’s made you shake without using anything other than his own body. 

Now, I can see him buying you a really expensive vibration to use while he’s away on trips. As long as you face time him when you use it so he can get off too, of course. 

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Carmen is such a fucking tease. He loves teasing you in and out of the bedroom with his words. When it comes to in the bedroom, half of the fun for him is teasing. He’s running the head of his cock through your folds mumbling stuff like: 

“Want me to put it in, baby? I can feel how wet you are right now.”

“C’mon. You gotta say it with your words. I don’t know what you want unless you tell me, honey.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He groans a lot into your neck. Curses a bunch too, like strings of curse words. Carmen can get pretty loud if he’s feeling really good. When he’s close to cumming, Carmen’s voice degrades into a whine that makes you dig your nails into his back to hear it again. As it reaches that point, he doesn’t care how desperate he sounds. “N-need you to cum. Please cum for me, baby. Need to f-feel you cum around my cock.”

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

One word. Choking. Carmy loves choking. He’s on top of you and wraps his hand around your throat just enough to cut off the blood circulation for half a second. You go absolutely crazy when his hand wraps around your throat because the euphoria is so intense. It’s like you’re on cloud nine. 

Sometimes when he’s fucking you from behind he wraps his bicep around your neck to have the same affect on you. 

Alternatively, Carmen realizes that he also enjoys being choked, at least a little bit. It happens naturally when you're on top riding him. His head falls back and exposes his neck, so you just reach forward and squeeze a little. Carmy’s eyes pop wide open as he feels the blood rush to his head. It’s so blissful he’s just laying with his head thrown back and his mouth open as you release the pressure. 

“Does that feel good for you, too?” you ask. Carmy can’t even speak, he just nods dumbly at your question. “That’s why I love it so much when you do it to me, Carm.” When you squeeze again, he’s spilling into you with a choked groan. 

X = X-ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

His cock is so fucking thick oh my god. It’s a bit  longer than average length wise, but the girth is massive. You’re not even sure you can take it when he pulls his cock out for the first time. He has to fuck you so slow the first time you have sex because the stretch is just so much. He spends at least the first five minutes inside of you staying completely still to let you adjust to his size. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s down to have sex whenever and wherever (as long as it’s private). Carmy feels like he doesn’t fuck you enough as is, which is why you two are increasingly having quickies in his office as his time becomes more consumed by the Bear. 

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Carmy is very much awake up until the point he finishes your aftercare. Meanwhile the second you cum you’re fighting your eyelids begging Carmy to cuddle you to sleep. He has a job to do, though, he needs to clean you up, and carry you to the bathroom so you don’t get a UTI. Once he’s finished with after care he’s out like a light with you tucked in his arms, resting on his chest. 

[huboi]

POLY! SATOSUGU ˖ . ☆

MINORS DNI!!!

╰┈➤ includes; poly satosugu ft gn! reader, a separate part where reader is afab and how they comfort you during period time, shoko is included because she’s a #girl boss, separate nsfw part, they didn’t have the kfc breakup in this so dw

╰┈➤ a/n; the shibuya arc destroyed me and I’m in desperate need for fluff, reader’s a sub (sos to all the tops/switches, I’m just a sub at heart)

these guys are complete opposites

but in a good way that they pretty much compliment each other

when you entered their life, they were smitten

they were both dating before you came into their life, they never thought of having another partner but then you came along and boom

satoru is a clingy bastard

this goes for both you and suguru

neither of you guys are safe from the menace that is satoru

he’s clingy but you guys love him for that, cause that means cuddle piles 24/7 when you’re all free and not busy with killing curses etc.

suguru is the peace keeper in a sense, he’s the most chill

like if there’s ever an argument between you guys, he’s usually the one that encourages communication

my guy knows that communication is very important in order to maintain a healthy, happy long lasting relationship

suguru shows affection more subtlety than gojo

instead of rushing towards you as soon as you come home, he instead has food ready for you if you’re hungry, if not then he just puts it in the fridge for later

one thing suguru loves is having his hair played with, you can brush it, braid it, anything, he’s like a Barbie doll

speaking of hair when you guys are sleeping, 9 times out of 10 you will find sugurus hair in your mouth, even if it’s tied in a neat bun (which he doesn’t usually do since he likes having his hair down when sleeping/relaxing)

geto is very caring and reminds you of a mother/father figure, since he always asks you and gojo wether you’ve eaten, had something to drink etc.

not in the overbearing way either, he just wants to make sure his loves are in top condition :3

shoko is the no.1 wing woman, like she roots for you guys all the time, she’s so glad that this chaotic duo found you

if you ever wanna hang out with her without the boys, you usually have to sneak out since gojo is really reluctant on letting you go without him, not in a toxic way, he’s just really fucking clingy and so wants to be around you as much as possible

but as soon as you tell him suguru’s coming home when you’re gone, he instantly plans out the little date they have whilst you go out with shoko

speaking of dates, they’re either spent in a fancy ass restaurant for dinner, or a causal night in with take out whilst watching a movie, gojo insisting on horror even though you and suguru both know he’ll piss his pants and hide behind a pillow throughout the whole film

shoko fourth wheels you guys a lot, even though suguru tends to not show affection outside of the house, gojo lives for PDA

like when you guys are walking, he’ll slither between your bodies so he’s in the middle, only to grab both of your hands and intertwine them🥹

gojo is also a big fan of cheek/forehead kisses

yes he loves kissing you on the lips but that’s more so for in the house

gojo tends to get very grumpy when you don’t reciprocate his affectionate gestures, but dw you can cheer him up by bribing him with his favourite sweets, it usually works, if not that then you can make it up to him in the bedroom *wink wink*

when sleeping gojo tends to spread out his long ass limbs as far as they can go, which leaves you and suguru barely any space

gojo defo snores, man sounds like a whole ass tractor at best, at worst a bloody horn that you hear on ships

suguru doesn’t snore, he just mumbles in his sleep sometimes, which is cute low-key

gojo is a light sleeper (due to his six eyes) and suguru is a heavy sleeper, like you have to suffocate him with a pillow to wake him tf up sometimes

whenever you have a cold/are sick, the boys become so doting, satoru somehow becoming even more clingy even though you keep on warning him that he may also get sick too, cocky bastard claiming ‘I won’t since I’m the strongest’ only to, unsurprisingly, have the exact same illness once you’re better

if you struggle with mental health a lot, the boys will do pretty much anything to help you out

gojo usually prefers to buy you loads of sugar/sweets if that’s your thing, if not then he will cuddle you and just be there for you

suguru understands since he has struggled with mental health in the past and is there for you if you want to vent/rant to someone

if you are neurodivergent then they will try their best to help with your needs

eg. if you’re overstimulated they will bring you to the closest quiet area and help you calm down wether via hugs and kisses or giving you some alone time

same goes for if you have a disability eg. you use a wheelchair etc. they are very supportive and they don’t care as in you’re still the love of their life no matter what

IF READER HAS A PERIOD (feel free to skip this if you don’t get periods)

they obviously don’t understand how painful periods can be, but they don’t make any negative comments about it

when you have terrible cramps their hearts ache as they can’t really do much other than giving you medication, hot water bottle and tea

suguru tends to place his hand on your stomach if you want to of course

if you’re craving foods, they will get them for you

mainly gojo tho cause he also loves food

when you get emotional they kinda just stand there like 🧍

one time you cried over suguru giving you a forehead kiss, he was very concerned

bro was worried he somehow upset you :(

they definitely go to shoko for some more advice on how to comfort you when you’re on your period

gojo defo says ‘apperantly orgasms can relief period cramps sooo’

you slapped him in the face

NSFW SECTION!

CW: DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, SWITCH! GOJO, BRAT! GOJO, SPANKING, SOFT DOM! GETO, BRAT TAMER! GETO, SUB!READER, AFTERCARE

when it comes to sexy times, geto is always the one in charge

sometimes gojo gets ahead of himself and forgets his place, only to be spanked till his ass is red by suguru

suguru loves praising you so much, he hates it when you misbehave and he has to spank you

gojo loves spanking you on the other hand, he also loves receiving a spanking from suguru

if gojo misbehaves one thing suguru loves to do is tie him up and make him watch as geto fucks you dumb

gojo cant touch himself, and if he does then he has to have a vibrator on his cock and not cum for 30 mins whilst watching geto fuck you yet again

satoru has a high sex drive and can seemingly go on for hours on end

suguru has a high sex drive too, but it’s not as high as gojos’

gojo’s a horny bastard :(

sometimes you will find yourself being woken up by gojo giving you head in the morning

yes suguru does find out, one way or another, and punishes gojo for giving you head without getos permission (dw gojo and geto both have ur consent to do sexy stuff to you whilst you sleep, you guys all agreed on this in the beginning of the relationship)

suguru prefers giving head over receiving, since he loves making either you or gojo moan out his name whilst he gives you delicious head

gojo prefers receiving but sometimes enjoys giving

gojo mainly prefers receiving from you since unlike geto you don’t tease him

geto’s a fucking tease in the bedroom, to both of you but mainly gojo since he’s so bratty and suguru hates that (secretly loves it)

sometimes gojo will fuck you whilst he gets fucked by geto

aftercare is a MUST for both gojo and geto

especially after an intense session

sometimes you end up slipping into sub space which can be a problem since they both hate seeing you that way

they instantly cover you with kisses, hugs and so much praise

bath time always happens after, the boys joining you

you even have a little snack or a big snack depending on how rough the session was

after you’re all taken care of, the boys and you hop into a clean, fresh bed and fall asleep in each others’ arms <3

© content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

I ONLY POST ON TUMBLR, IF YOU SEE MY FANFICTION ON OTHER WEBSITES LET ME KNOW ASAP

[rowdyluv]

Sleepless in Pittsburgh

Summary: Sidney and Y/n are supposed to be taking turns getting up at night to take care of their infant.

Warnings: none?

Notes: request @thedevilrisen

In the quiet sanctuary of their suburban home, Sidney and Y/n danced a nightly ritual that was as tender as it was tiring. Their baby girl, a delightful bundle of eight months, had just been fed and was now nestled in Sidney's strong arms, her eyes drooping as she fought the call of sleep. The nursery, a soft palette of pastels, hummed with the gentle white noise machine designed to help soothe her, a modern lullaby that filled the room. Y/n, her hair tied back in a loose bun, moved quietly, finishing up the bedtime routine. She glanced over at Sidney, who wore a look of quiet determination, his soft gaze fixed on their daughter's sleepy face. His eyes filled with raw pure joy and love. Emotions that strong had only ever been shared with her before.

With a soft sigh, the baby's eyes finally closed, and Sidney carefully placed her in the crib. The couple exchanged a knowing look, one that spoke of shared responsibilities and silent promises. They had agreed to take turns getting up in the night to ensure that neither was overwhelmed by the constant wake-up calls. It was a plan that had worked well, or so Sidney thought. Y/n had been shouldering more of the childcare lately, and it was etched on her face, in the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way she moved with a slightly slower grace than usual. He felt a twinge of guilt, but also a fierce protectiveness. He knew she was tired, but she never complained, not even when he could see her stifling yawns. She would never complain about being tired because of a little extra responsibility on her because Sidney was a little more busy with work. She knew way before the thought of having a child ever entered her mind that this would be a different rodeo.

Sidney held out his hand to Y/n, and she took it gratefully, her own feeling small and cold. They padded out of the nursery together, the floorboards creaking slightly under their weight. As they entered their bedroom, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, which streamed through the curtains and painted intricate patterns on the wooden floor. The room was a sanctuary of their own, filled with the faint scent of the vanilla candles Y/n had lit earlier to create a calming atmosphere. Their bed looked inviting, the crumpled sheets whispering of a much-needed rest.

Sidney could see the exhaustion etched in every line of Y/n's face as she climbed into bed. Him being gone for road games and simply being so worn out from home games, she was getting up more often than not. Plus she was here all day with the little one and it was taking a toll on her. He had noticed it in the way she had been quieter than usual, and how she sometimes forgot simple things like where she had put the baby's pacifier, and it would still be in her hand. As he sat down next to her, his thoughts swirling with love and concern, he made a silent vow to do more. He didn't want her to bear this burden alone. He couldn’t become that type of dad.

Gently, he kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering for a brief moment, a silent promise of support. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. They both knew the baby could stir at any moment, but for now, they had a few precious minutes to themselves. Sidney pulled the covers up to their chins and wrapped an arm around her, feeling her body melt into his warmth. The room was silent except for the steady rhythm of their breathing, which synced up almost immediately.

They lay there, the moonlight playing across their faces, the lines of fatigue standing out in stark relief. Sidney studied Y/n's features, the way her eyelashes fanned out on her cheeks, the soft curve of her nose, the gentle slope of her neck. She was beautiful, even exhausted. He felt a pang of regret for the moments he had missed, the nights he had been away for his games, unable to share in the middle-of-the-night moments that had bonded them so deeply.

The sudden wail of their baby girl pierced the quiet, jolting them both awake. Sidney sat up, his heart racing. Y/n's eyes snapped open, and she started to push herself up, but he placed a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I've got this one," he whispered, his voice low and steady. She looked at him, a mix of surprise and relief in her eyes, and nodded, collapsing back onto the pillow. Asleep almost instantaneously.

Sidney slid out of bed, his bare feet landing softly on the cool floor. He knew the drill by heart now; tiptoe to the nursery, check on her, soothe her, lay her back down, and maybe get a little more sleep before the next round. The crib's mobile twirled gently in the dim light, casting shadows on the walls. He picked her up, her small body fitting perfectly into the crook of his arm, and cradled her close to his chest. Her cries grew quieter, and she nestled her head into the nook of his shoulder, seeking comfort. He rocked her gently, feeling the weight of her trust in his arms, and he was filled with a fierce love that seemed to surpass any tiredness he felt.

As he sat in the rocking chair, he couldn't help but think of the times he'd seen Y/n do this. The way she'd coo and whisper sweet nothings, the gentle strokes of her hand on their daughter's back, the way she'd rock back and forth with such a natural rhythm. It was moments like these that made him realize just how much she did for their little family. And it was moments like these that he realized he needed to do more to share the load of work.

After soothing their baby girl back to sleep, he gently placed her back into the crib, the soft cradle of the mattress welcoming her tiny form. As he backed away, her eyes fluttered for a moment, as if she was searching for the source of the movement. He held his breath, willing her to stay asleep. When she finally settled again, he let out a sigh of relief and turned to leave.

Sidney tiptoed back to his and Y/n’s shared bedroom, his steps measured so as not to disturb the peaceful silence. He slid into bed next to her, feeling the warmth of her body as she stirred slightly in her sleep. He watched her for a moment, her chest rising and falling evenly, and allowed himself a small smile.

The digital clock next to the bed read 4:00 AM. He knew that this was likely not the last time the baby would wake up tonight. It was a cycle that had become all too familiar. But this time, something was different. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Y/n needed the rest more. He’d been up three times now, her twice. He didn’t want her up again if possible.

So, he made a decision.

He would stay in the nursery for the rest of the night.

Sidney carefully picked up the baby again and made his way to the rocking chair, the old oak creaking gently as he sat down. The chair had been a gift from Y/n's mother, a relic from her own parenting days, and it held a certain charm that filled Sidney with warmth. He tucked a blanket around both of them, the soft fabric brushing against his skin, and began to rock. The chair's steady motion was almost hypnotic, and he found himself slipping into a light doze, his eyes flickering open every few moments to check on their daughter.

The baby's breathing grew even, her tiny body relaxing in his embrace. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, a gentle reassurance that she was safe and loved. The room was bathed in the glow of the nightlight, casting a soft blue hue across the nursery. He studied her features, so much like Y/n's, and felt a swell of pride that washed away his weariness. He whispered a promise to her, one that only the two of them would ever know, to be the best father he could be for her.

"I'll always be here for you, little one," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I'll protect you, love you, and support you, no matter what life throws our way." He kissed her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin and breathing in her sweet baby scent. It was a promise that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, a vow that filled him with purpose and resolve.

Her tiny hand curled around his finger, and he marveled at the way she held on so tightly. It was as if she understood the gravity of his words, as if she was already counting on him to be her rock. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, feeling the velvety softness of her skin. "You're going to have the best life, I promise," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You'll never have to doubt how much you're loved by your momma, by me, or my teammates. The new ones that find their way onto the team will love you.”

Y/n's voice, soft and warm, floated into the nursery from the doorway. "You'll just have to figure out who loves you most," she said with a tired smile, her eyes still heavy with sleep. Sidney looked up to see her leaning against the doorframe, her silhouette framed by the dim hallway light. “Did you forget that this was on?” She shook the baby monitor. “Your chatter was interesting to wake up to and not find you in the bed.” She giggled.

"I guess I did forget," he laughed, the sound low and rich, bouncing off the walls of the quiet room. It was a rare moment of levity in the tapestry of their sleepless nights. The baby stirred slightly at the sound but didn't wake, her grip on Sidney's finger tightening. Y/n's smile grew, the shadows playing across her features as she padded closer.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress in the night. "I know you're tired too, but you're so good at this." She leaned down to kiss him, her hand brushing against his cheek. He could feel the heavy truth of her gratitude, and it was more invigorating than any cup of coffee could ever be. “You have your hockey career that is so demanding, that supports us, and here you are still trying to take on the bulk when you can.” She kissed him once more.

Sidney beamed with happiness, his heart swelling with love for both his wife and their daughter. "This is nothing," he said, his voice earnest. "You're the real MVP here, Y/n. I just want to make sure you get some rest." He grinned at her, his eyes shining with affection. "I think I'll stay right here with my baby girl for the rest of the night."

Y/n returned his smile, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She knew Sidney was tired, too, but she couldn't deny the comfort his offer brought her. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. "You have practice tomorrow."

A simple nod and a genuine smile was all Sidney needed to give her and she was off to bed. Sidney however, was in the rocking chair until 8am holding his little girl happily and lovingly.

[cupcaketeddybehr]

taking care of you in the hospital (pt. 1/?)

featuring: geto and nanami!! if you'd like a part 2/other characters, please let me know!! im very very happy to grant requests :)

for anyone who has a request/just wants to chat, my ask box is open!! (please please please please send me requests)

Suguru

suguru rakes his hands through your hair as you lean against the cold porcelain tub at the hospital. “i’m sorry, sweetheart” he says for the millionth time as he combs through the millionth knot.

you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of your boyfriend playing with your hair, “it doesn’t hurt, sugu”

he hums, “tell me if it does”

you nod, hearing the pump of the shampoo bottle and feeling his long fingers massage your scalp.

you peek one eye open to look at the brand of the hospital shampoo bottle. for some reason, it feels so much more expensive than a hospital amenity. it’s at the opposite end of the tub, pump locked and untouched. you’re sure you can see the plastic wrapping still around it.

suguru laughs, knowing exactly what you’re looking at, “i brought the shampoo you like from home, sweetheart. you can’t have those gross parabens and sulfates in your hair.”

you giggle, “you’re funny, sugu”

you hear his lips form a smile, “i’m glad you think so, baby.”

after conditioning your hair and washing your body gently, suguru plugs in the blow dryer.

“we can just wait for it to air-dry” you suggest.

“it’s almost eleven, baby, you need to sleep.” he turns on the blow dryer and adds, “you can’t sleep with wet hair, you’ll get sick.” he waves it around his hand a bit, making sure it’s on the correct power level. “also, i’m gonna use the cold setting so it doesn’t cause damage”

“okay”

he parts your hair carefully, blow drying every little section. when he’s done, he separates the top part of your hair into three parts. “what do you want, sweetheart? dutch or french?”

“french, please”

“you got it” he replies, crossing the strands over each other as he makes his way down to your neck. he ties off the braid with a pink ribbon and drains the hot water from the tub. he picks you up, lifts you on the bed, and begins rummaging through your pajama drawer. “how about this one?”

after you nod, he gently puts the shirt over your head.

“sugu, i can dress myself”

he shakes his head.

“i really can, baby, it’s okay.”

after he gets the shirt over your head and arms, he pulls it down, refusing to meet your eyes. “i feel helpless” he mumbles, “there’s nothing i can do to help besides this”

you stroke his cheek, “you’re helping me more than you know.”

he smiles, but it’s not really there. he’s more worried than anything. “just let me know whatever you need, and i’ll get it for you, okay?”

“okay” you say as he tucks you into bed. he walks around, making sure that all corners are ninety degrees and that theres zero chance of the blanket falling off. he takes a seat in the chair beside you and plays with a strand of hair that’s escaped from your braid.

“are you hungry? thirsty? do you want anything?”

you shake your head, “all i need is right here.”

he smiles, squeezing your hand.

you reach up, untie his long black hair from the bun it was in, and rake your hands through it. “lay your head here” you say, patting your stomach.

when he does, you massage his head and play with the tips of his hair.

“i love you, y/n”

“i love you too, sugu”

Nanami

nanami has slept in a chair next to your hospital bed every night since you were admitted. he always combs through your hair as you close your eyes, softly humming the tune of your favorite song. he never fails to come right after work, sometimes bringing your favorite pastry with him. today was no different.

“hi honey!” he greets, walking through the door with a brown paper bag and coffee cup in his hands. he set them down on the table next to you. “i got you dinner and some tea to help you sleep”

you smile and thank him, “ken, you don’t need to do this every day… but thank you”

he shakes his head, “hospital food is disgusting”

you reach your arms out to hug him as he bends down to meet you halfway. you notice that he hasn’t even gotten the chance to change out of his work clothes, his button down shirt and tie pressing up against your chin.

“are you going back to work?”

“of course not darling, i brought my pajamas” he says as he rummages through his work bag for his glasses and clothes.

you frown, feeling guilty that he’s spending his nights in a clorox-smelling, un-homey hospital room. “you should sleep at home” you mumble, even though you don’t really want him to.

he pauses and turns to look at you, “whatever you go through we go through together”

“i feel bad”

“you would do the same thing for me, would you not?”

“i would” you sigh.

he nods, “exactly. now hold up your phone so i can take my contacts off” he says.

after washing his hands, he uses your phone as a mirror to pull his contacts off of his eyes. he replaces them with his glasses, which you love. you think he looks more relaxed this way.

he leans down so you can unbutton his shirt. before you were admitted into the hospital, you did this every night. having continued this routine in the hospital too, you appreciate how he’s done his best to keep most things in your life normal.

eventually, he’s out of his work clothes and in his grey shirt and long flannel pants. he shuffles around the hospital room in his slippers, getting you a fork and spoon to eat your pasta and soup.

he sits down in the chair next to you and spoon feeds you the meal he brought. while you chew, he tells you about his day.

“darling, they’ve been trying to get me to work overtime, isn’t that ridiculous?”

you pause, mid-bite, looking at him with wide eyes.

he laughs, “of course i said no, you’re in the hospital. i just can’t believe the higher-ups could be that inconsiderate.”

“do you think they’ll be nice enough for you to take a week off for when we go to malaysia?”

“if they don’t let me, i’ll quit” he says as he feeds you another spoon of soup.

“wait-ken, did you eat?”

nanami nods, “i ate before i got here”

“next time you should save your food so we can eat together!”

he smiles, “okay, my love. i was just eating before so i could give you my full attention”

you shake your head vigorously as you look down at your hands, “honestly, sometimes i feel guilty because you spend all your time looking after me… if we ate together i think that would help me feel like less of a burden.”

nanami looks at you, concerned, “honey… you’ll never be a burden to me. i meant what i said before, we do everything together, okay? you’re never alone. i promise” he takes a moment to brush back your hair, “but if that would help, i’ll start bringing my food”

you look at him, tears starting to well, “okay, thanks honey”

he feeds you the last spoon as he kisses your forehead, “of course, my love”

soon, you start to doze off. as usual, nanami’s head rests on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing yours as you both drift away into sleepyland.

thank you so much to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers and support banners 🫶

and thank YOU so much for reading! i appreciate you!

[etherealhannie]

( oneshot ) ،، morning of reflection ،، ⌇ 민규

pairing .ᐟ bf!mingyu × fem!reader genre .ᐟ fluff , established relationship wordcount .ᐟ 1.3k song rec. .ᐟ better with you - jeff bernat

the soft glow of dawn crept through the curtains of their cozy apartment, casting a gentle light over the room. the faint aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon wafted through the air, gradually pulling mingyu from his sleep. he stretched lazily, savoring the warmth of the bed for a few more moments before rolling over and noticing that y/n was not beside him. pouting to himself, he could hear her humming softly from the kitchen, a sound that filled him with contentment.

mingyu slipped out of bed, pulled on a t-shirt and sweats, and made his way to the kitchen. he paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of y/n. she was dancing lightly as she moved between the stove and the counter, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, her hair tied up in a messy bun. the morning sunlight bathed her in a golden hue, making her appear even more radiant.

y/n’s confidence and competence were evident in every movement. mingyu admired her not just for her beauty but for the strength and passion she brought into everything she did. today, he wanted to show her just how much she was appreciated—not just by him, but in her own eyes as well.

“good morning, beautiful,” mingyu greeted, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

y/n turned, a bright smile lighting up her face. “good morning, sleepyhead. i thought i’d surprise you with breakfast.”

mingyu crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her from behind, planting a gentle kiss on her neck. “i love waking up to your cooking,” he murmured, inhaling the delightful mix of her scent and the delicious breakfast.

y/n laughed, leaning into his embrace. “i love cooking for you. now, go sit down. everything’s almost ready.”

reluctantly, mingyu released her and took a seat at the small kitchen table. he watched as y/n plated the pancakes, eggs, and bacon with an artist’s touch, pouring fresh coffee into two mugs. she brought the plates over, setting one in front of him and the other across the table, then joined him with a contented sigh.

“this looks amazing, baby. thank you,” mingyu said, reaching across the table to take her hand.

“anything for you,” she replied, squeezing his hand gently before they both began to eat.

as they enjoyed their breakfast, mingyu couldn’t help but admire the ease with which y/n handled everything, from her work as an architect to the small, thoughtful gestures she made every day. but he also noticed how often she brushed off compliments or downplayed her achievements. today, he wanted to change that.

“baby,” mingyu began, his tone thoughtful, “do you remember our first date?”

y/n looked up, her eyes sparkling with the memory. “of course i do. you took me to that little italian restaurant, and we talked for hours.”

mingyu smile, nodding. “i knew from that night that you were someone special. not just because you’re beautiful, but because of your intelligence, your kindness, and your passion for life. you’ve accomplished so much, and i don’t think you always give yourself the credit you deserve.”

y/n tilted her head, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “gyu, you’re always so sweet to me. i know i’ve done well, but it’s just… life, you know? i’m just doing what i love.”

“that’s exactly it,” mingyu said, his eyes locking onto hers. “you’re doing what you love, and you’re doing it brilliantly. but sometimes, i feel like you don’t take a moment to appreciate just how amazing you are. not just in your career, but in every aspect of your life.”

y/n’s eyes softened, a tender smile forming on her lips. “i guess i never really think about it that way. i’m just… me.”

mingyu reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, intricately wrapped box. he slid it across the table towards her, watching her eyes widen in surprise. “i got you something. it’s not a special occasion, but i wanted you to have it.”

y/n picked up the box, her fingers delicately unwrapping it. inside was a beautiful silver bracelet, adorned with tiny charms that represented different milestones and passions in her life: a miniature architectural ruler, a book, a heart, and a small compass.

“oh, gyu,” y/n breathed, her voice filled with emotion. “this is… it’s perfect.”

mingyu stood and walked over to her side, gently taking the bracelet and fastening it around her wrist. “each charm represents a part of you that i love and admire,” he explained. “your creativity, your love for knowledge, your heart, and your sense of direction in life. you bring so much light and love into the world, baby, and i want you to see and appreciate that about yourself.”

y/n looked down at the bracelet, her eyes misting over with tears. “i don’t know what to say, gyu. thank you.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” mingyu said, taking her hands in his. “just promise me that you’ll take a moment every day to recognize how incredible you are. not for me, but for yourself. you deserve to see what I see.”

y/n stood and wrapped her arms around mingyu, hugging him tightly. “i promise,” she whispered. “i’ll try to appreciate myself more, the way you do.”

they stood there for a moment, holding each other, the morning light streaming in and wrapping them in a warm embrace. when they finally pulled apart, mingyu kissed her forehead gently.

“now, how about we finish this delicious breakfast you made and then go for a walk in the park?” he suggested.

y/n nodded, her smile returning. “i’d love that.”

they sat back down, enjoying the rest of their meal with a renewed sense of connection and understanding. as they ate, they talked about their plans for the day, their dreams for the future, and the small joys they found in everyday life.

after breakfast, they cleaned up the kitchen together, laughing and stealing kisses as they worked. then they headed out to the nearby park, hand in hand. the fresh morning air was invigorating, and the sound of birds singing filled the air.

as they walked along the winding paths, y/n felt a sense of peace and contentment. she glanced down at the bracelet on her wrist, each charm a reminder of the different facets of her life that mingyu cherished. for the first time in a long time, she began to see herself through his eyes, appreciating the person she had become and the journey she was on.

mingyu squeezed her hand gently, breaking her reverie. “penny for your thoughts?”

y/n smiled up at him. “just thinking about how lucky i am to have you in my life. you make me feel so loved and appreciated.”

mingyu stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression serious but filled with love. “you deserve to feel that way, baby. every single day. And i’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you do.”

y/n’s heart swelled with emotion, and she leaned in to kiss him. “i love you, gyu.”

“i love you too, baby,” he replied, holding her close.

as they continued their walk, y/n felt a renewed sense of appreciation for herself and the life they were building together. with mingyu by her side, she knew she could face any challenge and celebrate every success, always remembering to love and value herself as much as he did.

in the quiet of the morning, surrounded by the beauty of the park and the love of the man who cherished her, y/n found a new strength within herself. and with each step they took, she felt more confident, more appreciated, and more in love with the person she was and the person she was becoming.

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in conversation.

Kabukimono was becoming more and more human by the day. Were it not for the puppet joints on his body, anyone would have thought he was a real human. However, there was one thing he still struggled with.

Conversation.

He did enjoy talking to other humans, but unfortunately, sometimes he did not follow along properly. Sometimes he did not understand when someone was joking or not. He may not understand the figurative language one might use. (You clearly remember the day he came home and asked you what Niwa meant by the statement “Kabukimono’s like an open book!” How does he have any resemblance to a book?) He may not know what to talk about, having had a very different life from a human’s, and his own interests being different from their own.

Such were the troubles of the young puppet. But you were here for him, as well as assisting him with his conversation skills. You were happy to help him, but you were also happy to have a set portion of time for just talking to your lover. And now was one such time. 

“Well, hello there, love,” you giggled as the first thing Kabukimono did when he came through the door was hug you from behind. “Welcome home.”

“I’m back,” he mumbled into your clothes as he tightened his grip around you. 

“Looks like someone’s tired,” you observed, reciprocating his embrace. “Still hard at work, I see,” you smiled at him in encouragement. Ever since you were attacked that one time, Kabukimono had taken up an interest in swords, and Niwa and Katsuragi had begun to train him every day. Though the puppet did not enjoy violence, he had come to realize that sometimes it was necessary… for protection, at least. You weren’t sure of your feelings when you found out he was beginning to realize the cold truths of this world.

You’ve even heard that he performed a sword dance. But when you asked him to perform it for you, he said that he wanted to master it with perfection before showing you the final product. You smiled and said you were rooting for him, making him blush.

“I’m going to protect you, [Name], that’s why!” Kabukimono resolutely declared as he let go of you and smiled. You found his determination cute.

“I know you will, love. I’m counting on you,” you winked. “Now, why don’t you go get changed? I’ll get the bath ready,” you patted him on the back and sent him along his way while you began to prepare the tub. A nice warm bath would surely soothe the aches and pains he had.

You and Kabukimono had been in a relationship for a long time now, and baths together had begun to become normal. It has taken a while, as showing your lover your body was a huge step in the relationship and a very intimate thing in general. Even Kabukimono understood the meaning of such a thing, initially being shy at first too. But now he had grown to love it, liking the feeling of you washing him and vice versa.

And now the two of you were together in the tub, soap and rag in hand as you cleaned him first. His long hair had been tied up in a bun, which he looked really cute in. His normally flawless skin had a few bruises on it from sword-fighting, but they would heal in no time, being a puppet and all. Kabukimono was going on about what happened during his training, but then he started recounting a conversation that only added to his speaking woes.

“When the three of us were taking a break, Niwa and Katsuragi started talking about how I reminded them of their younger selves.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You asked as you made sure his body was coated in soapy foam.

“It was! I liked hearing about their stories from the past. But then they started talking about a bunch of things I didn’t understand… and then other people started joining in and saying a lot of confusing things about things from so long ago,” Kabukimono sighed, before his voice dropped to a low tone. “And… and to make it worse, I don’t have anything nice to say about my past like the rest of them,” he confessed softly. You didn’t respond immediately, instead calming him with your soft touches.

“Maybe you need to move the conversation in another direction,” you replied thoughtfully as you washed out the soap with water.

“But how? Everyone was so happy reminiscing about their past… I don’t know how I could change it from that,” Kabukimono fell back into your chest, sloshing the water around. “It’s… awkward, I think. Is that the correct word?” You smiled and nodded, moving the wet strands from his face.

“Well, perhaps try talking about the future next time,” you suggested.

“The future?”

“The past is something we can only look back on, but the future is something we can build together. Despite the circumstances in the past and present, one can always look forward to the future. The future is changeable, at the very least.” The puppet seemed to be thinking about your statement. “Do you have anything you want to do in the future, Kabukimono? Any plans?”

“Plans?” He echoed. To be honest, Kabukimono hadn’t exactly thought about that stuff. He was already very caught up with living day by day with you. As long as he had you, he thought, he didn’t particularly care about what happened. Living life like this forever would be his ideal future. You were, quite literally, his world. However, Kabukimono knew he couldn’t say that to Niwa and the others. He’d come to learn that constantly talking about how much one loves their partner all the time wasn’t something most people did…

“I don’t think so, [Name],” Kabukimono decided on that response. “At least not yet,” he quickly added, not wanting to sound idiotic. You merely chuckled as you continued to hold him in your chest.

“Well, that’s okay. You still have lots of time to figure out what you want to do. And sometimes you don’t need to talk in a conversation. You can just enjoy yourself by listening to others. I’m sure the others would be happy to help you think about any possible plans.”

“What about you? Do you have any plans for the future?” The only thing Kabukimono knew, was that he wanted to be part of them, whatever they were.

“Me? Maybe when the time comes, I want to go see the other nations.” This made him perk up a bit. He too, wanted to see the world, after being mostly confined to his creator’s dark workshop, a lonely domain, and then the small village.

“You mean, all the places we’ve read about in the books? Mondstadt and Sumeru and Snezhnaya?”

“Yup! And Fontaine and Liyue and Natlan too!” You shared in his excitement. “We can listen to the bards play their poems and tunes, drink a cup of Sumeru’s special coffee, perhaps watch a trial in Fontaine… it would be so much fun,” you sighed dreamily, adoring the thought of such a fun vacation. You just didn’t think about the money aspect though.

“But would we be okay in Snezhnaya, though? I still don’t understand how people survive in that kind of climate.”

“Ah, you still haven’t seen snow, have you? Well, I guess we’ll have to visit Dragonspine before we go there then, to get you accustomed.” Oh, you couldn’t help but imagine the curious expression on his face once the eccentric felt a drop of snow melt on his nose.

The two of you chatted more about these plans, which probably seemed a bit unrealistic and impossible for the likes of you, but it was comforting in a way. To plan the future with the person who’d be with you for the rest of your life.

“You know, once you leave this tiny village, you’ll meet all sorts of people. No person will ever be the same as the next.”

“That’s amazing! I want to learn all about them. Do you think they’ll be as nice as the people in the village? Or are they like those bad guys?”

“That’s… hard to say. You’ll just have to learn to navigate your way through people, both good and bad.” Kabukimono nodded his head in understanding.

“And I’ll have you too, [Name]!”

“Yes, and me,” you smiled as you kissed his cheek. “But you know, you might meet someone better than me eventually-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Kabukimono interrupted you. “That’s not true. No one could ever be as wonderful as you,” the puppet interjected wholeheartedly. He really did mean that with every ounce of his being. Not even the Gods themselves could compare to you, in his honest opinion. “You’ve taught me so many different things. I don’t think I’d know anything without you! You’re the only person I want to be with. No one else, ever.” It seemed like he was pretty passionate about this.

“… That’s reassuring to hear, Kabukimono.” And then a silence overtook the bathroom. Although the two of you had been in the bath for far too long, neither of you felt like getting out, for that meant that this moment would end. Though you wanted to show your love even more.

You then kissed the Electro symbol on the back of Kabukimono’s neck, something that always made him stiffen for a few seconds no matter how many times you did it. It was a sensitive spot, both mentally and physically. A reminder of who he truly was, his unerasable past. Yet, somehow, he could hear your unspoken words. That though his past will always be a part of him, the future is his path to coming to terms with it and accepting who he is. His path to make his life to be what he wants it to be, no longer needing to worry about what a God wanted for him. 

“Regardless, I look forward to the future with you, my dearest love. I know there is much good and happiness to come, Kabukimono,” you gently wrapped your arms around his chest, lovingly holding him in your embrace. You did not comment on the tears flowing down his face, allowing him to let out his emotions freely.

The puppet never really understood his creator’s ceaseless pursuit of eternity, but now that he has you, a person to come home to every day, a person who will comfort him during his times of worry, sadness, happiness, fear, and more, a person who will have the most meaningful conversations and also idle chit-chat with him, he is beginning to understand her motive. He does want this to last forever. Even if it’s just the same routine every day, Kabukimono does not want it to end. He hopes it doesn’t.

However, no matter how one fights against it, eternity will not last forever. People are ever-changing, and everything comes to an end, eventually. Such is the nature of life, something the puppet will come to learn soon.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

[lionneee]

Aemond hates when you bite your lips

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: kissing, taking of blood.•

Modern!Aemond x Fem!Reader

She was just scrolling her phone as she was sitting on the couch, her fingers to her lips as she kept peeling the skin off, alternating it with bites. Sometimes she just bit the inside of her lips or cheeks. He had told her countless times to stop doing it, he didn’t like it at all, but he knew it was just a habit of hers, she usually didn’t even realize she was actually doing it.

“Y/N.” he calls her but she doesn’t even lift her gaze from her phone to look at him. He was looking at her from the doorframe that connected the living room to the little garden, where he was just smoking a cigarette.

“Mh?” her lips were beautiful, full and soft, except for when she bit them so much to draw blood.

“You’re doing it again, stop it.” he says. She looks up at him, confused.

“Doing what?” She was wearing a big old sweater of hers with simple black shorts, her hair tied up in a messy bun, and her face without makeup. Aemond loved to look at her when she was unready, just being as comfortable as she could.

“You’re biting your lips again.” He warns her, she immediately drops his hand down as he gets closer to her, taking her chin between his fingers and leaning her head back so she would look up at him. He inspected her lips and just as he thought, she kept going enough to draw a bit of blood. She turns her head to the side, looking away,

“It’s nothing.” she mumbles.

"It's not nothing." He grabs her chin again and pulls her face straight back again, looking at the marks she got on her lips just from this tiny bad habit she kept doing repeatedly.

“Whatever, Aemond!” she sighs annoyed, and that only pisses him off. She pulls away again and she goes back to looking at her phone. He sighs frustrated and grabs her wrist to throw her phone away somewhere on the couch.

"You really want me to get annoyed and mad now?” he growls, and she looks up at him with an angry look, closing her hands into fists.

“You’re the one who’s being annoying.” she answers back. His grip on her wrist gets a little bit tighter and he doesn’t say things as calmly as he used to when he first brought this issue up.

"I’m trying to help you. I swear you do your best to annoy me whenever I tell you to stop this." he groans as he passes his hand over his face letting go of her wrist, as he takes a few steps back.

She rolls her eyes. She knew it was true, it was a bad habit of hers, but she just couldn’t stop it.

“Just let go.” She raises her shoulders dismissing the issue nonchalantly.

"You better stop it. I don’t want my girlfriend walking around with her lips all bitten and marked."

He exhales loudly and he crosses his arms as he looks at her. Her expression turns quickly into one of anger, but he saw she was also hurt. She crosses her arms to her chest.

“Why? You’re ashamed of me?” she accuses him, and he looks at her as if she went crazy.

"No, I’m not, Jesus! You’re hurting yourself like this. And I’d like your lips getting red for a different reason than this, and not from your constant biting."

Another frustrated grunting comes out of him. She sighs and looks away

“I just can’t stop it, okay? I can’t.” She finally admits He sighs again and speaks more calmly, even though he is still serious about this issue.

"You could stop it, if you wanted to. Or else you won’t be getting any kisses from me.” He was talking in a soft, almost threatening way. His tone still showed frustration, but his approach now was more gentle than it was before. 

“Oh, really?” her answer is filled with sarcasm. She looked at him in a way that made clear she wasn’t believing him.

"Yes, really." He leans closer and he stands in front of her, looking down at her.

"Do you really want me to stop kissing you? Just because you can’t resist biting or peeling your own lips off, mh? Do you really have no self control when it comes to that?"

“Just like you don’t have self control when it comes to kissing me. So your threat is empty”

"You really want to see if I can actually be serious about that threat?" He steps even closer to her and his grip becomes firmer as he says his next words: "Because you really don’t want to experience that. I know how much you crave for my lips, my tongue, my breath on your skin." he smirks as he sees his words having their effect on her, as she fixes her position on the couch and pouts at him.

“I’ll get my kisses.” She answers back with that attitude of hers. Always so stubborn.

"No you won’t." He was fully serious about this. He takes a few steps back from her as he speaks with a more threatening tone.

"From now on, everytime I catch you peeling your bloody lips again, I will refuse to kiss you for the next whole week."

She grabs the hem of his shirt and tries to pull him closer to her, so he is standing right in front of her on the couch..

“No you won't.” She almost whines. She was so beautiful like this, with her pretty little stubborn head of hers, always ready to fight him if he did something she didn’t like. He loved how she refused to have anyone get above her. That, of course, when he wasn’t fucking her. He knew very well she liked having him above her on that occasion.

The movement she makes is enough for him to step even more close to her. He grabs her wrists again and she pulls her away from the couch, forcing her to stand up. He presses his body against hers as he whispers his next words in her ear.

"That’s a whole week of no kisses for you." His hand starts to rub her back gently again as he says his final warning. "I’m not bluffing. I’m warning you. One. Last. Time." 

“That’s not fair. I want my kisses.” She leans her head back and gets on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck as she tries to reach his lips but he quickly pulls away or turns his head so she won’t get to him, making her whine as he smirks.

“That’s not fair!” She whines louder. “I want a kiss.” she orders seriously, but as Aemond looks at her, he only wants to laugh. She was too little and cute to be taken seriously like this.

“You’ll get it in a week.” He answers towering over her. She furrowed her eyebrows.

“I want it now.” She specifies. Aemond smirks again, making her only more angry.

"No. You’ll get it in a week. Stop trying, baby." This was just too amusing to him. She was too small and he was enjoying her little tantrum. He didn’t want to give anything to her at this moment, and just wanted to see more of her frustration.

"Come on, baby... You don't want to kiss me?" She licks her lips, as if to make them more tempting for him to kiss them, as she looked at him with her big eyes

He looks down at her lips, glossy and wet and his breath becomes a bit heavier. Even though she’s frustrated, he can’t help but to look at her eyes and mouth as they were both pretty and tempting to him. He wanted to kiss her so much, kiss her until they would both be out of breath, and their lips swollen and red, but his words remain the same.

"No... Not right now…" He shakes his head even if he keeps staring at her lips.

"Please, kiss me. Kiss me now and I'll stop biting my lips, I promise... Just please, kiss me."

He looks at her eyes, and he sees how desperate she is for that single little thing from him. It was making it even harder for him to refrain but he wanted to see just how desperate this was going to make her, so, he speaks in a low, teasing tone:

"Make it worth it for me to give you a kiss."

She smiles immediately and she starts kissing his neck, driving her hands under his shirt, so she could caress him with her fingers. She hums as she keeps leaving wet kisses on his neck, slowly going up to his jaw

He exhales deeply once she starts kissing and licking his neck, his breath grows even more heavier and stronger. He leans his head back a bit, giving her more freedom with her hands as he does so, allowing her to access more of his neck. He tries to stay standing and keep his arms still, trying to refrain himself from stopping her and from grabbing her and simply kissing her back instead. His breathing becomes heavier and he makes a little sound of pleasure as she keeps kissing him on the neck. The caress on his muscles makes his body loosen up more and he keeps grunting with pleasure. 

"Fuck... a kiss is not out of the question for you if you keep at this... good girl."

She pushes him with her hands on his chest down on the couch, making him sit on it, as she sits on his thighs.

He lets out a small groan as she does so, her hands going underneath his shirt was enough to drive him crazy. He lets his head tilt backwards on the couch and he closes his eyes as his heartbeats increase in speed. Her hands keep on roaming under his shirt as she starts lifting his shirt, so she could kiss his abdomen and he leans his head further back as she begins to kiss his abdomen.

"Have I earned my kiss?" She smirks as she goes back to kissing his jaw.

His breathing became even more rapid as you switched to kissing his jaw. Your small, delicate, and soft kisses were enough to make his body tense, he was getting hard, and keeping his hands to himself was getting almost impossible, especially when she was putting all of this effort to please him. This little teasing game was actually getting him to reach his limits faster than he expected. 

“Almost.” He groans. She smiles as she kisses his chin, and her hand goes down to his covered cock, palming it softly.

"...And now?" She whispers in his ear as she presses her hand harder on him.

God, she was such a tease.

He lets out another deep growl and he grabs the back of her head harshly, pressing her lips against his own, kissing her aggressively. She immediately clings close to him, sliding from his thighs to his lap with her hips, so she could grind against his cock as she welcomes his kiss with passion, letting him slip his tongue inside her mouth as deep as he wanted. He grabbed her ass and squeezed in return, pressing her more on himself, and moving her faster. She whines and pulls away from the kiss, smiling at him. “I’ll stop biting my lips.”

[staytinyville]

Burn It (Pt. 1)

↣ Summary: You were only a decoy for all those who wanted your family off the throne. The real leader was your horrible sister who ruled with fear in their subjects. You only did what was told of you and if others came to assassinate you then so be it. 

↣ Characters/Pairing: Eventual!Min Yoongi x Reader, Slight Namjoon x Reader,

↣ Genre: Historical, Mature

↣ AU/Trope info: Historical!au, Queen!Reader, Rebel!Yoongi, 

↣ Word Count: 6.1k

↣ Warnings: Abuse, Toxic household, 

↣ A/N: Honestly I always get inspired by all the historical stories on here and I just really wanted to sit my ass down to write. Part two might just have smut y’all so tell me if you want lmao. Also can you please tell me what you guys think of my writing? I don’t know I want to publish sometime soon but like if I suck at writing why bother.

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Tags: @anyamaris , @kpop-stories-21

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

You usually slept on your back, worried about the day someone came into your room to do something. It was all you ever thought about the moment you were told why your parents truly made you the queen. 

You weren’t a light sleeper by any means, so you knew the moment someone stepped into your room something was going to happen. It wasn’t one of your guards who would announce their presence or even your family who you knew the staff would call out to you the moment they slammed the door open. 

You didn’t dare to move. Not when you could hear their steps in the room that were clearly trying to be quiet. Anyone who wasn’t trained to listen in to their surroundings were bound to be caught off guard by whoever it was. However after spending the last few years in fear of being killed in your sleep you taught yourself to pick up on the smallest of things.

You felt them reach the side of your bed, but still you didn’t move. You took in a deep breath, waiting for them to strike. When you made to move your body just the tiniest of bits, your eyes flew wide open at the person who suddenly had you pinned to your bed–a sharp blade placed against your throat. 

You swallowed softly, looking up into the face of your assassin. The light from outside the room was barely enough, but you could make out the scar that ran along the right side of his face. His cheeks that look round. The band that was tied against his forehead. The blonde hair that was neatly wrapped in a bun.

You didn’t make a sound though, only allowing your eyes to follow along his face. You could tell that after a moment, he began to grow confused, his eyebrows pulling together and head tilting to the side. 

You made no show of trying to fight him off. You didn’t even breathe harshly. Instead he watched as your eyes scanned over his face, eyes glittering in the moonlight that showed through the curtains. It left him baffled as you kept an even expression to it all.

“Why aren't you terrified?” He asked, clenching the blade’s handle. 

“There are things more terrifying than death.” You whispered, catching his attention.

There was a sad expression behind your eyes. He could see it hidden behind your facade. He almost faltered when he came to the realization that you were waiting for him to move the knife. But his resolve came back, quickly shaking his head to clear it.

“Then you should be thankful.” He sneered. 

He pressed the knife deep just barely breaking the skin. But he stopped completely when all you did was fall limply and close your eyes. His breath got caught in his throat, feeling conflicted over the way you were acting. 

He was told about how much of a tyrant the queen was. How she would strike at anyone who dared to even breathe in her direction. She was cruel and followed in her parents footsteps of ruling the kingdom with fear. Those who worked in the castle that were part of the rebellion had all said she was an emotionless person who didn’t even bother to look at when someone was being punished, not bothering to spare them her time. 

She was a menace, someone who didn’t deserve to be on the throne. But yet, here she was under his grip awaiting death to come to her without so much as a fight. She was hiding things behind her eyes that would be released come death. But Yoongi didn’t feel it in his heart to kill someone like that. Someone who was willing to give up their life for something haunting them.

He couldn’t stand to see others that way. Not when he had been there before. 

You felt the blade lose its pressure, opening your eyes to look at him once again. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“Are you questioning me when I have a knife to your neck?” He sneered, pressing the knife back to you.

“I thought you were going to—”

“Quiet.” He growled, slamming a fist into the pillow next to you. 

“Why aren't you calling for help?” He asked, moving to hover above you, his knife next to your head. 

“Who will be there to help me?” You whispered once more in that sad voice. 

“Your grace!” Someone called from outside of your bedroom. 

The man’s head snapped to the direction of the door, hearing the handles begin to twist to signal someone was going to come in. The assassin was quick to jump off the bed and out into the night without so much as a second in between. You rushed out of your bedspread, not caring about being in your nightgown. All you cared about was getting to stop the man. 

“Wait—”

You froze at the bottom of the steps that lead outside, catching as he turned around to face you under a lamp post. You could finally see his face in its entirety. The scar ran along his eye and down to his cheek. You were still as his face seemed to burn itself into your memory. You wanted to call out for him, ask him what he was doing. 

But there was something stopping you. The way he looked at you like he was torn. It was gone in a flash just as he was following the calling of your name from your bedroom. 

“(Y/N)?” You turned to find your personal guard looking around the room for you. “What are you doing outside?” He asked, walking up to you.

“Couldn't sleep.” You spoke softly. 

“What brings you by?” You asked the man, turning to face him. 

“I heard a man's voice. It was hostile.” He looked around the room just to make sure, moving things around that created dark spots.

“You have sharp hearing, Namjoon.” You smiled softly. 

“Nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.” You walked closer to him, causing him to look at you. 

You watched as his eyes went wide, hand reaching out to touch your neck. 

“You’re bleeding.” He wiped his thumb along the miniscule cut the man’s knife had left. 

You moved to wipe at it yourself, coming with bloody fingers. You furrowed your eyebrows, sighing to yourself. 

“I probably just scratched myself in my sleep.” You told him.

Namjoon was perceptive, but he wasn’t going to question it because he knew you. No matter how much he wanted to care for you when you got hurt, you were someone who kept to themselves. You weren’t going to allow others to know your pain. 

“I’ll clean it for you.” He said. 

You allowed the man to do as he pleased. You suddenly felt much too tired to allow yourself the time to clean up the wound. Besides, you always enjoyed your moments with Namjoon. He had been there since you became the so-called queen. He watched them put the crown on your head. Watched with a harsh breath and flare nostrils as he knew the truth behind it all. 

The only one who did. 

As you felt is large hands press softly into the skin of your neck you almost wanted to flinch at how easy it was for him to actually kill you. There will always be people out there much more skilled than you ever could be. Much more powerful. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you thought about it. You felt useless–like you life was miniscule. And it was in the eyes of your family. You didn’t realize a tear fell down your cheek until Namjoon moved to wipe at it. 

“Are you truly okay, my queen?”

Namjoon’s acknowledgment of your title had you squaring your shoulders, looking at the man with a small smile on your face. 

He was right. You were the queen–the one everyone called her majesty or bowed their heads to when you walked. It wasn’t your parents–your sister who walked with a smaller crown. It was you. Even if your family was the one who told you what to do in the end–you were the one who the kingdom saw as its queen. And you knew it was time to step into that role.

**

The time that passed was a long one. New bruises and wounds turned up on your body–hidden behind the hanbok you would wear. They would never dare to strike you across the face, not when the entire kingdom could see. They had images to keep up and people to boss around. It was their kingdom but you were the one they hated. 

You still walked with your head held high, nose turned up as you tried to remain emotionless. You had learned to perfect the look with all the eyes that followed you everywhere. You didn’t dare to showcase any kind of emotion. You knew if you did they would see it. And they didn’t want their subjects to know the queen was being ruled by fear. 

“Choosing a warrior for the princess is a perfect way of having her protected.” Your father’s general walked alongside the both of you. 

“Here are the fine gentlemen who decided to take up the mantle. It gives the common people a chance as well to be part of the royal court.” He explained looking over the men he had watched train to be the best warriors they could be. 

There were a total of 50 young and older men all standing in rows with hands behind their backs and legs spread to shoulder length. You didn’t bother to look at them because you knew that your family had already chosen you. 

“Thank you, general.” Your father smiled brightly. “We would only want the best for our daughter.”

He turned to you, the grin on his lips making your stomach turn as you tried not to sneer. Your eyes immediately dropped from his face, turning around as you finally began to scan the warriors who suddenly raised their heads at your discretion. 

“Your grace, please be sure to choose wisely. Munhee is your twin sister–she deserves to be protected just as much as you.” He offered in a sickenly sweet tone. 

“Of course, father.” You spoke monotonously. 

You begin to walk through the men, only picking you head up to give them a glance but continuing forward. You could see some of them gulp in worry while others let out breaths from your monotonous look. You were only courteous, meeting some of their eyes in order to make them think you were actually picking on your own. 

You continued on through the rows, trying your best to act like your parents had told you to. But there was a second–just one second–where your facade dropped and you came to stand still. He stood in another row, a bit shorter than those next to him. But he still kept a stoic face–facing forward in the position the general had them all stand. 

He was to the right of you, giving you the opportunity to see the long scar that ran down his face. There was a flutter in your heart that was created by anxiety. But it was fear, it was an anticipation that would lead you to win. 

No one noticed the way you stopped to stare or the way you started to breath harshly. Namjoon had been the only one, eyes moving to scan the crowd as he tried to find what made you stop. Your father continued forward with the general speaking to himself as he thought you were walking alongside him. 

“I hear that Sooyoung is quite the—”

“Him.” You interrupted your father. 

“What?” He stopped, turning around to quickly find who you were looking at. “Who?” 

You moved with calculated steps towards him, but he didn’t move from his position. 

“The one with the scar?” Your father spoke bewildered, glancing between you and the man. “But your grace, you can't possibly want—”

“I'm positive he is more than capable of taking care of Munhee.” You didn’t dare to move your eyes from the man. “He looks like he's been through tough battles.”

“Oh well, I don't remember seeing him during training much.” The general frowned as he squinted his eyes at the scar on the man’s cheek. 

“He does seem to have a memorable enough face.” The  general tsked but moved to turn away and back to the front of the rows of men. “Step forward boy!” 

With one last look at him, you turned to Namjoon who was following closely behind you. You watched him take in a breath, eyes scanning the man over as his eyebrows pulled together. Your face remained emotionless, turning around while lifting your nose up. You could see your father sneering as he began to follow behind you. 

“State your name.” The general asked once all of you made it to the front. 

“Agust.” He spoke deeply.

“What an odd name.” Your father waved off.

“Sounds western.” The general nodded to himself. 

“Are you positive this is the one you will choose your grace?” Your father spoke up. 

You could see the fury behind his eyes, the one that was clearly telling you to back out of the problem you had placed them all in. But you looked at him the same way you always would, not daring to move your head from his stare. You felt Namjoon grow closer to your back, his warmth seeping into your clothes. You moved your hand from under your sleeve–a silent request to tell him everything was okay. 

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. 

“Very well. The ceremony shall take place later this afternoon.” The general spoke up, humming to himself as he began to gather the other men. 

Yoongi watched as you didn’t give your father another look, walking away quickly with both your father and guard on your heels. Your robe billowed behind you as you fast walked, but he was quick to notice the way your father rushed up to you and caught our arm before the doors to the palace shut behind you all. 

“(Y/N), what is the meaning of this?” Your father sneered, gripping onto your arm tightly. “We decided already who would be the royal guard.”

“I'm sorry—” You flinched, unnoticed by the way you spoke with no emotions. 

Your lips turned downwards, a sneer waiting to overtake your face at the way your father was clutching tightly onto your wrist–enough to know it would be bruised in a little bit. Your hands clenched up, nails wanting to scratch at his arm for hurting you. But it wasn’t the right time.

“We will talk later.” With one last tight squeeze your father threw your arm from his grasp. 

It made you jerk backwards, teeth clenched as you were quick to soothe the ache. 

“Are you alright?” Namjoon walked closer to you, fingers lightly falling down your arm to take a look.

“Yes, I'm fine Namjoon.” You spoke, your emotionless voice causing him to straighten up.

As your gaze landed back on the closed doors the only thing that crossed your mind was the scar along that man’s cheek. There was no mistaking that mark–it was one that seemed to alter your way of thinking all together. You were brought back to the night that he held the knife to your neck. Made you bleed and a small barely noticeable scar being left behind. 

Your hand went up to your neck, feeling the uneven skin under your fingertips. 

“Namjoon, would you protect me if someone was to come and assassinate me?” You suddenly spoke up, looking towards the doors that lead to the courtyard. 

“What kind of question is that?” The man gasped, looking at your incredulously. “Of course I would—with my life.”

“Why?” You said absent mindlessly. 

“Because I am your royal guard—”

“Did you know there are people trying to kill the queen?” You stopped him, turning to face him completely. 

He gulped, watching as you grew closer to him. “Isn't there always? But that won't stop me from protecting you.”

“It's a rebellion, isn't it? People wanting to kill me.” You quietly spoke, watching as his eyes scanned over your face before falling to your neck where he could see the scar. 

His breathing began to grow rapidly, as he tried to come up with an answer. “They don't want to kill you—”

“So you know about it?”

“(Y/N), I swear I know nothing about it—” He began to sputter. 

“Namjoon, you are the only person I can trust in this palace. The only one who knows the truth. And now I want you to be honest with me. As your queen, I demand you tell me the truth.” You demanded. 

He suddenly stood up straight, taking in a deep breath. “Yes, your grace. There is a rebellion that is out to kill the queen. But it's not you they are after, it's Munhee. At least the one they're really after is Munhee.” 

There was something that seemed to lift off your shoulder hearing those words. It didn’t make you feel any better however it did make you understand that there were plans that needed to be put into motion. Plans that you were going to accomplish with certain people on your side. 

“(Y/N), did something happen?” He asked.

“That man.” You spoke up. “The one I placed as Munhee’s guard. You know him. I saw it in your face when I chose him.” 

He watched as your nose twitched and your eyes went glassy. “Namjoon, are you part of the rebellion?” 

“Never!” Namjoon shouted, taking a step closer to you. “I could never do you harm or wish for something as cruel as that to come to you. You mean everything to me. I will stop at nothing to protect you from those who wish you harm.”

Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment at his confession. His eyes expressed just how much he meant every word. Namjoon was the one person who had been with you since you were a girl hiding in corners from the abuse you would suffer at the hands of your family. He has seen you at your worst. Which means you had to be better for him. 

“Then how do you know him?” You asked. 

“I don’t personally know him. I’ve only ever seen him around the kingdom a couple of times.” Namjoon licked his lips, answering truthfully. 

He paused for a moment, pressing his lips together. “However, there could be someone who might.”

**

The ceremony wasn’t anything spectacular. Only the army was present and those of the palace staff. After the general proclaimed his speech to those around, he handed you a sword which you took in a tight grip walking forward towards Agust who kneeled at the stop of the stairs. 

“It is an honor to serve the royal family. As royal guard to the princess you shall take up the mantle as her protector.” You prattled off. 

“You shall put your life before hers to guarantee her safety. Do you accept this position?” You spoke loudly, keeping your eyes downcasted on the man who was kneeling in front of you. 

“Yes.” He spoke up, keeping his face down to the ground. 

“I hereby name you a royal guard to princess Munhee. May your sword always be sharp and your will always stay strong.” You ended, making him rise to grip onto the sword you were handing over to him. 

As he reached out for the sword that laid on your palms, your sleeve had moved down your arm, giving him full view of the darkening bruises in the shape of fingers on your wrist. He watched your hand suddenly clench onto the blade of the sword catching his attention and making him look up into your eyes. 

Your face still remained emotionless, but you made a small movement to get him to take the sword. He was quick to take it, bowing his head once more as he began to sheath the blade. Your hands fell to your side, causing the sleeve to fall over your wrist once more. 

There wasn’t much left of the ceremony other than you giving an emotionless speech about how you were grateful to the army for what they did. Once everything ended on a normal tone, the royal family turned around to enter the palace with the new royal guard in tow behind the entire entourage. 

“I can't believe this is the man you appointed!” Munhee screeched. “How stupid can you be!? Haven't you already done enough!?” 

She had been stomping her feet in front of you but quickly turned around to strike you across the face. Your face whipped to the side, not expecting the hit but you didn’t dare to make a sound or move a hand up to cradle your wound.

Yoongi watched with an emotionless face as you seemed to keep up the facade. Your guard was quick to step up to you, getting between you and the so-called princess. Yoongi glared at all of you, eyebrows pulling together at the debacle. 

“You insolent girl. You deserve everything that is coming your way.” She sneered at you.

“Munhee!” The old king sneered. “Do not strike her face!? How many times have we told you!?”

His eyebrows only seemed to pull together deeper, trying to figure out what the whole dynamic was between everyone. It seemed you only remained emotionless as your large guard took your arm softly. 

He didn’t understand what your place was in all of this. You were the queen who was above all of these people. And yet they seemed to take pleasure in screaming at you. You didn’t give any reaction to their words or actions–allowing them to do as they pleased. You were no queen after the whole thing. 

“Namjoon, take her to the healers quickly before she bruises.” Your father turned to your royal guard. “They have to fix it before she goes out in public.”

“Of course.” Namjoon spoke through a clenched jaw, softly pulling you along. 

You didn’t give Yoongi another look, keeping your head up as pieces of your hair fell out of your headpiece and into your face. He watched you leave before turning around as he heard the princess stomp closer to him. 

“Ugly, good for nothing.” The princess sneered, quickly turning from him. “Don't look at me. Your face belongs in a cell.”

The way she had her lips pulled up and nose scrunched up made her look ugly. It seemed she had done that face so much it stuck to her skin. It was clear she was your twin somehow but for some reason Yoongi found himself claiming your face was much easier to look at. 

“Forgive me.” Yoongi spoke monotonously. 

“What do we do with him?” Munhee didn’t pay him any mind, turning to her parents. 

“We'll have Namjoon teach him for now.” The old queen spoke carelessly. “Until we have a reason to get rid of him we can't do much. That would mean forsaking the general and his warriors.”

“Stupid traditions.” Munhee rolled her eyes. “Fine, keep him out of my sight. And give him a mask for when he is. I cannot stand to look at him.” She gave him one last sneer of her lips, stomping away with her parents in tow. 

“Of course.” Some guard for your parents announced. 

He began to walk away, so Yoongi assumed he was to follow after his superior. He was taken out of the back gardens and into another part of the palace. There were curtains that were billowing out of the room that gave it enough breeze. The guard takes Yoongi around the building towards the doors. 

“You may stay here for the time being.” The guard explained, opening the doors to a wide spacious room. 

“I will be sure to inform Namjoon of your whereabouts.” He bowed his head before turning to leave.

Yoongi had assumed he was left alone, watching with a raised brow as the guard seemed to walk away quickly. However when he suddenly felt a presence behind him, he was quick to turn. He watched as a stunning man seemed to tilt his head in confusion at the man. 

He was dressed in a translucent robe that draped down his body. He wore expensive looking jewelry and was cleaned much better than even the royal family themselves. Yoongi could smell the perfumes the man wore from where he stood a good three feet away. 

“New concubine? But no one said anything about it.” He spoke with a deep voice, but his eyes held childish wonder. 

“Concubine?” Yoongi questioned.

“Are you not one?” The man asked, stepping closer to the scarred one. “Isn't that why they brought you here?”

“I was appointed as royal guard to the princess.” Yoongi immediately answered, keeping his stare on the handsome man. 

“Makes more sense.” The concubine nodded to himself, lips forming a perfect pout. “Princess Munhee would never choose you.”

Yoongi suddenly frowned, giving the man an offended look.

“Taehyung, don't be rude.” Someone behind Yoongi spoke up. 

He quickly turned around finding another man dressed the same as the one in front of him. However, this one seemed to have puffier cheeks and shorter in structure. He also carried himself more sensually–confident in what he looked like. 

“I still think you're very handsome.” He smiled softly at Yoongi. “My name is Jimin. This is Taehyung. We are concubines for Princess Munhee.”

Once more the assassin was left confused. Why weren’t they concubines for the queen herself? It wasn’t really known that the princess had some of her own. 

“The princess? Not the queen?” He spoke out loud.

“She doesn't have any.” Taehyung answered. 

“Well except for Jungkook but he's just for show. He says he's never been with her let alone her bedroom. He's still a lucky bastard though.  I wish I was (Y/N)'s concubine.” He pouted, crossing his arms in a childish manner. 

“You like the queen?” Yoongi asked baffled. 

“Like?” Taehyung tilted his head to the side. “I love her! She's so kind and patient. She always treats our wounds after we've been with Munhee. She gives us extra sweets when she comes to see us. Anyone would fall in love with her.” He sighed dreamily.

Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear all that was falling from the poor man’s mouth. He only saw someone who had been brainwashed into thinking the queen was someone kind and nurturing. It did leave him a bit baffled to remember that it was the queen who had been striked across the face by the princess but that didn’t mean her emotionless heart wasn’t real. It was clear by the way she didn't react to the way she was treated. 

“She is a tyrant. How can you stand to live here as concubines? You don't get to see your family and as you said, you get wounds from the princess—”

“Exactly. From the princess.” Jimin interrupted, coming to stand in front of Yoongi. 

Jimin looked at him with squinted eyes that made him look seductive. But his words made it seem like Jimin was waiting for Yoongi to figure everything out. “There are things within the palace that are not correct. You'll find that out soon enough.” He told the man vaguely. 

The door suddenly open and all three men turned to look at who had entered. Taehyung beamed at Namjoon who gave the two concubines a bow of his head. Jimin only gave the man a small smile twirling around to go back to whatever it was he was doing before Yoongi had entered. 

“Agust, please follow me.” Namjoon called for him.  

Yoongi gave the two concubines one last look before following after the larger man. He began to lead him back to the main building, Yoongi trying to memorize the journey. 

“My name is Kim Namjoon—you can call me Namjoon. I am the royal guard to queen (Y/N). We will be working together closely.” He explained. 

Yoongi paused for a moment, clenching his jaw as he thought about the woman. “The queen—what did they do?”

“They gave her a cold patch.”

He lead Yoongi to another section of the palace that seemed to be full of different kinds of staff. It was close to the rooms of the royal families so Yoongi only assumed it was the building he would be staying in. 

“This is where we stay. We share a room along with the other royal guards.” It was a quick thing before Namjoon took off once more from the guard quarters.  

As Yoongi was looking around, trying to find escape routes or hiding places he didn’t notice Namjoon had come to a stop causing him to bump into the man. 

“What are you doing here? Do you know the risks of getting caught? You should leave before something happens to both you and the queen.” Namjoon quickly spoke, causing Yoongi to look at him oddly. 

Namjoon had a stern expression on his face but he didn’t care to reach out to kill the smaller man. It was clear that Namjoon knew who Yoongi was the moment he came into the palace. Namjoon was someone often spoken about within the group. One of the people who worked within the palace had explained that Namjoon would do anything to protect the queen from harm. 

However he also said that Namjoon would be more than willing to be on their side. It left him at a confused headspace over the bigger man. 

“I know that more than anything what will happen. I have a mission to complete. I can’t go back without results.” Yoongi spoke harshly. 

“For what? A murder that is unjustified?” Namjoon glared. 

“You know as well as everyone else just how justified it really is.” Yoongi retorted.

“I know you’re out to kill the wrong person. If you think you were the only one thinking about infiltrating the palace, you would be wrong.” Namjoon has his arms crossed, trying to make himself look bigger to intimidate the scarred man. 

“Namjoon?” A soft voice spoke up behind them. 

“I’m here, your grace.” Namjoon turned around to face you, watching as you walked closer to them with smaller robes that were easier to walk in. 

“Hello. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” You spoke up calmly, staring Yoongi down. 

“Cut the small talk. Why did you choose me?” Yoongi sneered, knowing the three of you were alone from others to keep from saying what he wanted. 

Namjoon glared, about to take a step towards him but you subtly moved your hand out to keep him from getting closer. 

“Did you not want to be chosen? Isn’t that why you infiltrated the army and applied to be the personal guard for Princess Munhee?” You questioned him.

“Why did you select me?” Yoongi pressed again.

You took a moment, irking him as you looked down at him. 

“I don’t know.” You merely shrugged.

“I can kill you right now.” He placed a hand on the sword you had given him, causing Namjoon to reach for his own.

You stopped them though when you walked closer to Yoongi. “You can but it won’t solve your problems.”

“It will solve many.” He sneered. 

“That’s what you think.” You told him.

He felt something in his chest watching you. He knew it was you, knew by the little scar that was under your head from the knick his blade had left months ago. Knew by the way you softly stared at him waiting for his next moves.

However you were different now. Different in the way you spoke—the way you held yourself. It was nighttime then though, he has never seen you before. But speaking with you now it wasn’t the same as the woman who was awaiting death with open arms.

“Where is she?” Yoongi asked. 

“Who?”

“The girl who waited for me to move my blade. The one who was hoping I would.” He spoke quietly, keeping you stare.

“I found a better chance.” You told him, speaking in that voice that told him how there were worse things to fear other than death. 

“One that lets me live the way I want. My personal guard will make sure to tell you of your duties. Do not mess it up.” You added sternly.

You turned around, Namjoon giving Yoongi one last harsh stare before turning to follow after you.

** 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Namjoon asks you.

“I have suffered my whole life just for others to come and kill me in place of my sister.” You spoke softly looking down at the paper you had been writing on. “I’m done being the decoy they know they need. The plaything they would have their fun with when they were angry.”

You looked up when knocking comes from the door. “I was made the queen. And as far as the kingdom knows I am the Empress who rules. So that is what I will be.”

The double doors open wide as Yoongi struts his way in. Namjoon stands behind you with his hands clasped in front of him. He glanced your way, taking note of how you don’t bother to look up at him. From what the other concubines have claimed of you, Yoongi has yet to see it. 

“Sit.” You tell him, going back to writing a letter. 

He listens to your demand, sitting cross legged in front of your table as he waits for you to say something. It takes another 10 minutes before you do. By then Yoongi had a frown on his face from having wasted time sitting in front you, waiting.

“I have something to ask of you.” You told him.

When all you got was a raised brow, you continued. “I need you to take this to your leader.” You rolled up your letter and pushed it forward towards Yoongi.

“Leader?” He questioned.

“Don’t take me for a fool.” You clenched your jaw. “Someone sent you to kill me. And now I want to send them a letter.”

“Are you mad?” Yoongi scoffed.

“Not always.” You shrugged. “But you get tired after so much.” 

There it was again—the jab at your past. The jab in Yoongi’s chest that made him rethink about killing you. It was the suffering he heard in your voice. The one that didn’t care about what happened to them because they had already been through so much. 

“I don’t get it.” Yoongi told you. 

“Don’t get what?” You questioned.

“This!?” He says pointing to the letter you wanted him to send to his leader “Everything around the place. I came here knowing one thing but come to learn it’s not right.” 

“Information can get lost in translation.” You waved him off.

There was so much he didn’t understand. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with those in the group about the whole thing because he had been training with the army for the past couple of months. All he knew was that the queen was a tyrant who treated the people of her kingdom unfairly. 

But now he wanted to know if he was looking at the right person. 

“Tell me something.” Yoongi demanded.

“What is that?” You asked him.

“That a queen would allow someone beneath her to strike her.” He told you.

“What makes you think I’m not?” You asked him. 

“Not what?”

“Beneath them?” You take a deep breath thinking over something. “At least in their eyes.” 

This made him stop for moment. After witnessing the actions of her family Yoongi came to realize there were things wrong with the royal family. And after hearing the words of those who worked closely with them it was clear that the choice he made of sparing you was one that left his conscious free of guilt. 

“Are you trusting me?” He questioned you, realizing that you were about to tell him the truth.

“You’re going to find out sooner or later. In case you haven’t—I’m not the real queen. I’m only the one who takes the harsh blows of the tyranny my family causes. I’m just their scapegoat.” You explained. 

“If you do your job right there should be no consequences. You have my word.” You told him.

“Which job?” He questioned. 

“You should know which one, Min Yoongi.”

Pt. 2 Y’all? Be sure to apply to my permenant taglist so you can be added to Pt. 2 if I come out with it lol.

Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst , @cryingpages , @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @kenzie203 , @loveless-lie , @puppyminnnie , @marvel-potter-1d-korea , @emtrades22 , @wolfgurl2600-blog ,

[astralnymphh]

Domestic!Ellie is my addiction.

I need more. You don’t understand. It’s not a want!? It’s a DESIRE A NEEDDDDD!!!!!! Just reading the hc’s, how sweet and soft she is under it all.

When she’s herself again, that goofy dorky nerd we all know her to beeee!!! AGHHH!!!

- 🩵

i see more domestic!farm!ellie than i do domestic!jackson!ellie, and i think the latter needs to be discussed more.

no cuz farm!ellie— as I've definitely claimed before, is very husband coded. on the other hand, a more early–lover, girlfriend who takes care of the child u got knocked up with. which is literally dina, but, i guess if ur' not obliged to the thought of getting knocked up in the first place; gamer dad. i grew up with one, not like he was present 24/7, but like.. ellie? same font alternate story. i also hc ellie does best with boys, idk. just feel it. okay, maybe cause of jj.

stopp staying over at ellie's place for the night n' you bring the lil' guy over swaddled to your chest— legit, sowing two steps upon her doorstep, darkening it, not even getting the chance to knock, nay cast breath over it, and it's swung open and the bundle of wrathful joy nearing the age of two once strapped to you is now ecstatically babbling in your auburnettes arms. tis' fucking magic; how whenever ellie comes in contact with that baby, skies are rainbow–painted and mourning doves are entrancing the whole of jackson with a birdsong. how ur sweet boy, blood of your blood and bone of your bone, weeps gutty murder in the hold of yours truly— but dries of cheek and whorls of smile with ellie, is unfathomable.

"heyy dude, hows my favorite lil' guy in the world doing?" baby–talks ellie, so ooey and cooey as she bounces at the knee, blocking the doorway, "whos' ready to watch mom play the turning? i know mama is, i know you aree." you are but a fragment to her now, a forgotten shadow at her door. that sounds grim but take it literally. she like, literally forgets to kiss you at the door sometimes.

"ellie." comically, you tap your foot, faking a downturned pout left to dry without her kisses, and the cruel wintry air.

snapping her fern eyes up, she jerks a dumbfounded visage— and an even dumber query, "what?"

"my kiss?"

"oh, right.. um," her face relaxes and turns lily–white of innocence, shooting scattered glances at the child as she slants her weight over to you, "hey babe." extending graceful as a swans neck yet devoting you only a measly peck on the mouth measured lesser than a second before she slunk her body back and spun inside, rambling chin–tucked to that child, "ellies' got a new record i think you'll really like.."

lips still baked to a dry, you stare in catatonic quiescence at the eclipsed circle of pale lamp–light streaking around her bun as she paces away from you. step, by step, by hurried step, eager to spill attention with the full force of her coos amusing the easy–to–please mind, garbiling a possible bravo! or huzah!— until nightfall would whistle through the crickets and quiet him to sleep. leaving you, an even larger, tatted up baby now whiny for your attention.

need to see angelgbc photos of jackson!ellie holding jj now

[badasbebi]

the cupid project ➛ 1/2

part two

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you and your long-term work crush devise a plan to win a company contest. in the end, you wind up going to extreme lengths to commit to the bit

✦ genre/au: fluff, fake dating, videographer reader, bada's extra sweet here, slight friends to lovers

✦ word count: 7k

✦ warnings: isn't proofread. another unrealistic meet cute that doesn't really make sense. smut in part 2

✦ a/n: another two-parter simply bc my fics are too long. 2nd part is finished and will, again, be posted soon (literally tomorrow). didnt put as much thought into this one as I have with my other stories, which will probably be a pattern from now. still think its fun. enjoy!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"It's been three minutes. Why are we still waiting on people?" Youngj fusses, running his fingers through his hair, tousling it

"Relax, Jae. You called us here last-minute. People are busy," Minho says from where he is sitting, scrolling through his phone.

Youngj's eyes snap to him. "Too busy for an emergency meeting with their boss?" He retorts, raising an eyebrow. 

Minho looks at him, then shrugs. "Well, that's what happens when you hire a bunch of ultra-talented, sought-after dancers. We don't need you," He finishes, swiftly turning back around, sunglasses concealing his eyes. 

Youngj gapes for a second, then seemingly surrenders, slouching back in his chair with a scowl. 

Meanwhile, you're balancing a camera lens in your hand on the sofa across from them, twisting and turning the machinery in your hand as you stifle your laughter. Still being somewhat new to the team, you weren't sure if you necessarily had the right to take part in Minho's teasing. You became an employee at JustJerk Dance Academy only six months ago, after JustJerk announced that they were looking for new hires. However, you weren't a part of their star-studded lineup of top choreographers and instructors. Instead, you were hired to be a videographer and photographer, working behind the scenes to ensure that every breathtaking move, every impassioned sequence, and every dancer was captured flawlessly. 

Which, it was not like it was very hard. The people here were phenomenal enough as it was, making your time spent at work nothing less than a blessing for someone who's long watched dancers from the sidelines. Even better, the members of JustJerk Dance Academy aren't just a group of talented dancers, but also a lovely group of people. They're kind and caring, often inviting you out to eat after a long day of filming or helping you with the things you struggled with. Sometimes, you still got awestruck around them because it was such a far cry from what you were used to. But, it was beginning to feel like home. And, as the days went by, everyone started to feel more and more like family.

Well, almost everyone.

Suddenly, you hear the doors swing open and glance up to see who's arrived.

"Sorry I'm late," A voice rings throughout the room, revealing none other than the legend herself, Bada Lee. 

Even after having passed by her a million times, the woman never failed to take your breath away. She was gorgeous and had an allure unlike anyone else, with a presence that seemed to shift the energy in every room she entered. In other words, she was also intimidatingly cool, which led to you frequently avoiding her because you were, simply, terrified. Though she's always been nothing but sweet and brilliant during your brief interactions, this kindness almost made things worse. It'd be much easier to disregard her if she was an asshole. Unluckily for you, she was one of the most charming people you've encountered in your life, making it nearly impossible to ignore the magnetic pull that's been causing an increasing amount of debauched thoughts and dreams. 

Bada walks toward the rest of the group with an apologetic smile on her face. Her long, black and blonde hair was tied back in a bun, and her baggy clothes were noticeably wrinkled, suggesting that she came straight from practice. Despite her slightly disheveled appearance, she looked as enticing as ever. 

You avert your gaze and continue playing with the camera equipment in your hands, attempting to appear nonchalant. 

"What happened? You're never late," Youngj asks, sitting upright. 

"I was helping one of my students out with a routine and got a little distracted. Sorry," Bada explains with a pout, sitting down on a separate couch next to yours. You keep your eyes on the camera in your hands.

"Don't worry about it, I just need everyone's attention for a few moments," Youngj says, scanning the room. "Is this everyone?"

"No, Redllic should be coming in soon. She was right behind me," Bada says, looking over at the door.

Your eyebrow inadvertently quirks up at the sound of Redllic's name escaping her lips. 

"Good enough, then. Let's get started," Youngj leans forward in his seat, clapping his hands together. "I want to first apologize to all of you for calling you here so abruptly. Unfortunately, this was the only time I had to get you all here together.”

Everyone eagerly waits for him to speak, the air thick with curiosity as Youngj takes a deep breath, his gaze shifting from one person to another.

"So, to clarify, I didn't call you guys here for anything particularly important."

Minho laughs bitterly. "I fucking knew it."

Youngj gives him a pointed look before continuing. "There's a special event that the company is holding and I wanted to inform all of you about it in-person, because even though it isn’t anything to worry about, it is admittedly a bit...unusual for us."

"What is it?" Redllic asks, appearing out of thin air. Everyone, except for Bada, jumps slightly, surprised by her sudden arrival.

"Redllic!" Youngj says, placing a hand on his heart. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Oh, sorry," Redllic shrugs, plopping down next to Bada, throwing her feet onto the coffee table. "What's going on?"

"Right, um," Youngj clears his throat. "As I was saying, there's an event that we're hosting for Valentine's Day. We're calling it the 'Cupid Project.' Basically, you're all going to get into pairs, and you'll be doing a variety of activities together," Youngj explains, his eyes scanning the group, watching the reactions on everyone's faces. 

Ew, is the immediate word that pops into your head. This reminded you of the group projects your teachers forced you to do in school. You can already see how this project will play out, and it's probably not going to be pretty. Based on the skeptical expressions you can make out, you are at least relieved to see that you aren't the only one feeling hesitant. 

"What kind of activities?" Bada asks softly, tilting her head.

"Just activities to get to know each other. Doing things you wouldn't normally do," Youngj replies, shrugging his shoulders. "Jho and I have some planned activities, but the point is for you and your partner to find things to do voluntarily. If we plan everything out for you guys, then it'll be completely forced."

"Wait, wait, wait," Minho interjects, pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head. "So, you're telling me I have to go on a date with someone here?"

"No," Youngj shakes his head. "We're not forcing you to fall in love or anything. This is purely platonic, just a fun way to bond with each other. And there'll be a prize," Youngj says, wagging his finger.

"A prize?" Minho echos, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. You and your partner will compete against the others and the pair who does the most activities and seems to have actually become good friends with each other will win a reward."

"How are you measuring that?" Hoyeon, another videographer, asks. 

"We'll conduct anonymous votes and collect them at the Valentine's Day party we're hosting," Youngj explains. "But, it's not supposed to be all that serious, everyone. We're just trying to do something fun and, you know, team-build since we've gotten a lot of new hires recently. And, we'll get a good video out of it. We're planning on making a highlight reel of the Cupid Project for our Youtube Channel, which will be nice promotional material, too."

So that's what this was really about: content. Truthfully, you wouldn't have an issue with this if it were not very likely that you'd be the one filming or editing this highlight reel. You internally groan, realizing you'll have to deal with an increased workload because of this clusterfuck. 

"I think it's a great idea," Redllic says, a mischievous smirk on her face. You watch her glance at Bada, who is staring at nothing with an unreadable look in her eyes.

"Well, what's the prize?" Minho asks. 

"600,000 KRW"

Others around the room whisper in excitement. You almost drop your camera. Out of shock, yes, but also because that was exactly the amount of money you needed to buy a brand new camera that you've been eyeing for ages. You've been wanting to record more complex videos, wanting to work on actual music video sets, but your current setup is limiting you. If you were able to get your hands on that camera now, you'd be about a year or two ahead of the original timeline you had in mind. You bite the inside of your lip, hoping Youngj doesn't see the desperation in your eyes.

"Holy shit," Hoyeon mutters. 

The two of you make eye contact, and you already know that the two of you are working together. You were close, having joined the company at the same time and being around the same age. This would be an easy win. 

"Alright, so it's settled, then," Youngj says, a confident grin forming on his face.

"Are we choosing our own partners?" Redllic asks, moving a blonde strand of hair away from her face. 

"No. That would lead to a bunch of people asking to be paired with people they're already friends with, which would make the whole thing pointless. We're drawing names out of a hat," Youngj says, gesturing towards the baseball cap resting on the coffee table.

Everyone collectively groans. You try not to cry. 

"Stop, come on, don't make this difficult," Youngj frowns. "The sooner you choose, the more time you have to prepare. Now, who wants to go first? I already have your names written,"

"Wait, let me go first," Hoyeon volunteers, jumping up and grabbing the hat. She reaches her hand inside and picks a small slip of paper out, then reads it aloud. You bite your lip, praying.

"Howl," Hoyeon declares, holding the piece of paper out for everyone to see. 

Your name is not Howl, but you nearly howl right then and there. Realistically, the probability that you would get who you wanted was unlikely considering the number of people in the room. Nonetheless, it hurt. 

The man with the wolf-centric name quietly stands and moves away from the corner he was situated in. He had been quiet the entire meeting, and most did not really notice he was there until Hoyeon mentioned his name.

"Guess it's you and me," Hoyeon laughs, smiling at the tall figure beside her.

Howl gives her a slight smile, shakes her hand, and they sit back down.

"Alright, Bada. Why don't you come over here?" Youngj says, gesturing to the coffee table.

"The one that everyone wants, I'm sure," Redllic comments with a bemused smirk, causing a clamor of chuckles.

Bada scoffs, and heads over to the table. She reaches into the hat, rustling through the papers. You hold your breath, reminding yourself of the unlikelihood that you'd be the name she pulled. However, as the woman's fingers curl around a single sheet of paper, your heart skips a beat. You feel as if you were the one reaching into the hat.

Bada pulls the paper out and unfolds it, her eyes scanning the sheet. Then, her eyes lock with yours, and your heart leaps. 

"Y/N," Bada calls out, holding the paper up.

You freeze, the room spinning around you. There's no way. 

Bada cocks her head to the side. "It's you, right?"

"Oh! Um, yeah," You sputter, quickly gathering the camera equipment around you.

You hear whispers and feel a hundred pairs of eyes on you as you walk over to the girl. You ignore the feeling of your skin burning. 

"Hey, Y/N. It's nice to officially meet you. I've seen you around a lot," Bada says, eyes warm.

"Yeah, nice to officially meet you, too," You say, extending your hand.

Her hand is warm and soft, enveloping yours like a blanket. Your hand feels cold and sweaty. 

"Interesting," Redllic quips, eyes darting between you two, a glint in her gaze. Bada tears her eyes away from you, giving the blonde woman a questioning look as she retracts her hand.

You take the opportunity to step away, returning to your seat and letting the other dancers pull names. The rest of the pairings are revealed without much commotion, except for Minho's, who loudly complains when he has to partner up with Jaeyong, a good choreographer, but awkward man. 

After all the names are drawn, everyone is dismissed. You're quick to leave the room, eager to return to the comfort of your familiar space behind the camera.

"Y/n! Slow down! We need to talk!" Hoyeon calls, catching up to you.

You turn around, side-stepping out of the way of people walking past you in the hallway. You wait for her to stop in front of you before you speak."With all due respect, I don't really want to talk right now. I just want to record. Then go home, and eat some ramen."

"With Bada?" Hoyeon sings, a cheeky grin forming on her face.

"Shut up," You mumble, rolling your eyes and continuing down the hall.

"Wait, why are you so bummed?" Hoyeon starts, following behind you, "Bada's cool?"

You sigh. "Exactly. She's cool. I'm...not."

"What? Yes, you are. Why would you think otherwise?" Hoyeon scoffs, her eyes narrowed.

"I just," You pause in the hallway again, trying to formulate the words. "I'm a little scared of her, is all."

"Scared?" Hoyeon questions, her forehead wrinkling. "She's nice though. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Yeah, but she's so pretty, and talented, and again, I'm not. Not in the way extraordinary way that she is, I mean.” You explain, shoulders slumping. 

A look of realization dawns upon Hoyeon's face, and she laughs menacingly. "Oh, I see what this is. You think she's hot, and you're a scaredy cat who's afraid of rejection. Case closed. I understand."

"That's not how I would phrase things but, essentially, yes," You concede, turning the corner.

"You're being silly. She's not a god. She's literally just a human being...a very sexy human being but a human being nonetheless. Just talk to her like one," Hoyeon suggests, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, are you not going to try to get that money? I know you want it. I saw that crazed look in your eye once Youngj made it to that fifth zero."

You laugh, "I mean, yes, I really want that money. I don't know if it's possible though. Even if I wanted to reach out to her, she’s so busy I doubt she's planning on actually committing to this. Especially because she's already loaded."

"You don't know until you try you wimp," Hoyeon says, nudging you in the arm.

"Ow," You groan, rubbing the spot in a manner that probably proves her point. "Aren't you going to try for the money too? Where's Howl, huh?"

"We're friends already, it'll be chill. I don't know if we'll necessarily win the money, but, like, we'll have a good time," Hoyeon states, grinning.

"Ugh, gross," You say, sticking out your tongue.

She ignores your immaturity. "What do you wanna do with the money anyway?" Hoyeon asks, leaning against the wall next to an entrance to one of the dance studios.

"Remember that equipment I told you about? So I can start working on sets?"

"Oh, right," Hoyeon says, crossing her arms. "You said that you've been wanting to do that for a while, y/n. Are you really not going to talk to Bada? I’ve recorded with her a few times now and I mean it when I say that she's nice as hell. I feel like she'd probably be down, or, at the very least, will understand if you explain things to her. "

"I'll try. Maybe. At some point. It's not going to be today, though," you mutter, reaching for the studio door before you are stopped by Hoyeon jabbing her french-tipped fingernail into your chest. 

"You better. Or else," Hoyeon threatens, a dark expression coming over her. 

"Move your finger, please," You say, swatting her hand away.

Hoyeon rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Good luck filming. I'm gonna go find Howl. Love ya,"

"Yeah, yeah. Have fun," You wave goodbye to her as she walks down the hall, pulling out her phone.

Once she's out of sight, you release a deep sigh and push open the door, only to be met with the sight of a familiar face. 

"Oh," You breathe.

Bada turns, a surprised expression on her face. "Y/n, hi. Were you coming in?"

"Um, yeah," You reply, slowly entering the room and closing the door behind you. "Are you rehearsing something?"

"Yeah," Bada answers, glancing at the mirror.

"Sorry. I can go-"

"No, no, don't worry about it. If you need to film in here, that's fine. I'll just go next door," Bada says, waving her hand.

You pause, taking a breath. Now’s your chance. "Actually, forget the recording, could I talk to you real quick? About the...cupid thing?"

"Yeah, of course. I was actually hoping we'd get a chance to talk," Bada grins, sitting down on the floor and patting the spot beside her.

You hesitantly walk over and sit down next to her. You take a moment to compose yourself, running your fingers along the smooth fabric of your pants.

"So," Bada prompts.

"Uh," You stammer, wracking your brain for what you were supposed to say. "Um, well, I just wanted to say that, uh, you are really, um, talented. And-oh, this sounds really weird." You finish, running a palm down your face in embarrassment. 

"No, no, it's not," Bada chuckles, a gentle smile on her face. "Thank you, though. But, um, that's not what you wanted to say, right?"

"Right. Sorry," You apologize, a rush of blood filling your cheeks.

"Don't worry. Take your time. We have a lot of it," Bada reminds you, studying the expression on your face. Her voice and words are calming, but her staring is freaking freaking you out further. 

You take another deep breath, hoping to quell your nerves. "Okay. I'm sorry. Uh, I'll try again. What I really wanted to say is, I know that it’s a stupid contest, and that you probably don't care about winning, but I actually really want to participate in that project and win that prize money. And, I was hoping you'd, maybe, help me win?" Before she can respond, you launch into another tangent. "I'm sorry, you're probably busy, which is okay, but I just want to upgrade my equipment so I can get more opportunities outside of-"

"Hey," Bada says, gently laying her hand on top of yours. "Of course I'll help you. You don't have to apologize. I think it'll be fun."

You nearly spiral, but Bada's touch is surprisingly soothing, and you calm down despite your anxiety. 

"Oh, wow. Thank you, so much," You breathe.

"It's not a big deal, seriously. I'm looking forward to it," Bada insists, squeezing your hand.

You stare at her, and her kind, sparkling eyes. What have you gotten yourself into?

You both sit there for a second, a pregnant pause in the air, before you quickly pull your hand away, remembering how sweaty they were.

Bada smiles, unphased. Then, she begins tapping her fingers rhythmically against the ground, a contemplative look on her face as she stares at the space where your hands were previously intertwined. 

"So," Bada suddenly looks up. "If you're just in it to win it, and you really want a fair shot, I think we need to do something a little extreme."

You blink, scared. "What do you mean…extreme?"

She bites her lip and you have to resist the urge to stare. "Youngj said this was supposed to be platonic, so that's how most people are going to approach it. How do we seem better or stronger than other platonic relationships? What’s more intense than that?"

You must be misunderstanding where she's going with this. "Um, a romantic one?" You say, furrowing your eyebrows.

To your shock, she nods. "Exactly. Y/n, I'm saying that we should make our Cupid partnership a romantic one," Bada states, her expression serious.

Your head is spinning. She is taking this much more seriously than you were anticipating. You were expecting to just go out for coffee a few times, and maybe post a picture of your twinning lattes on instagram to sell your friendship. You have no idea how to process this more intense proposition.

"Are you suggesting that we pretend to date each other?" You confirm.

A beat of silence. She leans back slightly, her eyes flickering. "I mean, yeah. Sure," She pauses. "Unless you're not comfortable with that."

"I am," You respond, the lie escaping your mouth with ease. 

Bada's eyes widen and she sits up, a smile growing on her face. "You're sure? If you're not cool with that, we don't have to. I know the idea is a little bit out there. I just, uh, want to help," She babbles, her fingers tapping against the floor again. 

You laugh. Was Bada Lee nervous? "I'm not uncomfortable with it. I trust you. As long as it helps us win,"

"It will, I promise. I'll make it worth your while," Bada vows, her expression determined.

"I can't wait," You laugh again, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

"Cool," She breathes, her body relaxing. "Well, I should go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

You grin, nodding. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Awesome," She smiles, standing up. She reaches her down and grabs your hand, pulling you up. "I'm not gonna be able to actually meet-up with you tomorrow because I have something scheduled, but I already have your phone number. I'll text you."

You nod, distracted and unable to speak as her soft fingers brush against your palm.

"Bye-bye," She waves cutely, her long legs swiftly carrying her across the room. You wave back, her departing smile etched into your brain as you watch the door click shut behind her. Then, you're alone. 

You stare at the floor, processing the interaction. You had just agreed to pretend to date one of the hottest and most intimidating women you had ever met. You had no clue why you did it. Maybe the promise of money and fulfilled dreams had blinded you. Still, the whole thing seemed a little too ridiculous. Too dangerous. 

But there was no backing out now. You already went through the trouble of telling Bada about your desperation, and you told her that you trusted her. You'd have to commit. 

"Well," you whisper, hugging yourself in a soothing motion. "Here goes nothing."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You fidget within the plush confines of your seat, hesitantly glancing around your dimly lit surroundings as you twist a gleaming piece of silverware between your fingers. Your other hand remains in your lap, afraid to touch the red linen covering your table. Your gaze settles on a couple a few tables away from you, clinking their wine glasses together with pompous grins. It crosses your mind that the wine they're drinking is probably worth more than the money you're doing all of this for, and you make the executive decision to reach for the bottle of wine the woman sitting across from you generously bought. 

When you drop your fork to outstretch your hand toward the bottle, the woman in question seems to notice, hurriedly grabbing ahold of it before you can reach it, and pours the liquid into your glass, herself. 

"Thank you," you murmur, retracting your hand and finally allowing it to fall on the table. 

"No problem," Bada replies, her voice warm and velvety, like the wine. She pushes your drink toward you, and you hurriedly snatch it up to take a large gulp, allowing it to trickle down your throat. The heat of the alcohol soothes your anxiety, and you exhale deeply. 

Your relief lasts for approximately one millisecond. Because, in the next, you're putting your drink down and are being reminded of the predicament you've gotten yourself into. Bada's preoccupation with her menu gives you the chance to observe the way the soft glow emanating from a nearby lamp illuminates her features. The light traces the curves of her face, accentuating every perfect line. Her eyebrows furrow in concentration, compelling you to consider reaching over the table to smooth the lines over with your thumb. When you try to look away, your gaze locks on the pouting of her lips as she focuses on whatever she's reading. 

"I'm thinking of getting the Frutti Di Mare," she voices, snapping you out of your trance. She sets the menu down and looks up, a gentle smile on her face.

"I don't know what that is," you respond dumbly. 

She laughs, the sound light and airy, causing the skin near her eyes to wrinkle adorably. "I thought Italian was your favorite?"

"It is," you confirm, feeling flustered. "I just-the Italian places I go to are super watered down. The fanciest thing you'll see there is fettuccini alfredo,"

"That makes sense," Bada nods, her smile turning playful. "Then, I'll let you know what it is. It's basically seafood. I think it's usually served with pasta."

"Ah," you reply, nodding slowly. "Tasty."

Bada laughs again, and you feel like a scratched CD—unable to get any words out, twitching in place, devilish sounds threatening to enemate from you at any moment. "I'll make sure to order an extra portion for you to try. Unless, of course, you don't want me to."

"No, that works. I'm fine with that," you respond, quickly.

"I figured." Bada smiles knowingly.

Your hand clutches your chest. "Hey, is that a little shade? Did I miss it? Please, elaborate," you joke, leaning forward.

Bada giggles. "Maybe. You've been drinking a lot of that wine. And I think you ate most of the breadsticks."

You glance at your breadcrumb filled plate, then at the half-empty basket of breadsticks. "Oh. Wow. I did."

"You did," Bada affirms, her expression amused. She scoots her chair closer and takes a sip of her own drink, her tongue darting out to lick her lips once she's done. You have the overwhelming urge to mimic the motion, but resist, choosing to instead stuff another breadstick in your mouth.

You swallow the last bits of the breadstick, wiping the crumbs off of your mouth, only for a new, smaller, crumb to appear. Bada notices, and when she raises her arm, your breath hitches. You feel her soft hand graze the side of your face, the pad of her thumb rubbing the crumb off your lip.

"There we go," Bada smiles, satisfied. You can't help but lean into her touch, the warmth of her skin a pleasant contrast against the cold room.

You're startled out of the moment when the waiter appears, setting a basket of warm bread down. You jump, moving away from Bada.

"Have we decided what we'd like to eat?" he asks, his accent thick.

Bada nods, seemingly unaffected by the exchange. "Yes, we're ready. I'll have the Frutti di Mare."

"Great choice," the waiter says. "And, for you, miss?"

"Um, Spaghetti," you answer, your voice strained. 

The waiter scribbles down the order. "Anything else to drink?"

"I’m good, thank you," Bada answers, her tone sweet, smiling gratefully at the man.

"I'll be right back with your food," the waiter bows his head, his ponytail bouncing, and swiftly leaves the table, leaving the two of you alone. 

Avoiding eye contact with Bada, you grab ahold of your glass and drink. The air crackles with something subtle, and you find yourself stealing glances at Bada’s pretty face in between sips, your cheeks warming.

But you needed to get down to business. It’s already been two days since you discussed fake-dating, and this is the first time you’ve done anything together. The clock was ticking.

You placed your drink down on the table and swallowed loudly, causing Bada to stop fiddling with the napkin in front of her in favor of looking at you. 

"So," you start.

"So," she copies.

"What's the plan?" you ask, drumming your fingers against the table.

Bada's eyebrows furrow again. "The plan?"

"For the whole Cupid thing," you clarify.

"Oh," she says, blinking. "Right. Well, I was thinking, that this was sort of the plan."

"This being..."

"Dinner. At a fancy restaurant," she responds, gesturing to her surroundings. "People will see us hanging out together here, and it'll get the rumor mill running. I wouldn't be surprised if the media picked it up, honestly. I think it's a pretty solid first step. We're just planting the seeds,"

You nod. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense. How do we get from here to actually dating?"

She leans back in her chair, pondering the question. "Hm. I don't know. An Instagram post, maybe? A soft launch?"

You consider this. "Okay, sure. But, what would the picture be of? This is all so, vague."

Bada shrugs, nonchalant. "We'll figure it out as we go. We're gonna be spending a lot of time together for the next few days so there'll be plenty of opportunities for pictures. For now, I think we should just enjoy dinner. We're supposed to look like a couple in love right now and I don't know if trying to scientifically plan a soft launch is really giving romance."

"Right," you sigh. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Bada says, reaching across the table to give your hand a quick squeeze.

You're interrupted by the waiter returning, bringing the food. He carefully sets the dishes down, and a delectable smell fills the air.

"Bon appetit," the waiter bows his head and disappears again.

"Thanks," you call after him, taking a moment to observe the meal.

"It looks great," Bada comments, reaching for her fork.

"It does," you agree, grabbing your own utensils. You take a tentative bite, moaning loudly as the flavors immediately explode in your mouth. "Holy fuck."

Bada stares at you, wide-eyed and frozen, a piece of pasta still stuck on her fork.

You blush, covering your mouth. "Oh my gosh, sorry."

She gulps, snapping out of her stupor. "No, no, it's fine. That was just, a, uh. It seems like you really like it!"

"It's really good," you confirm, your words muffled by the food.

"I can tell," Bada chuckles, her voice low and her eyes twinkling.

"Sorry. I'm gonna try not to embarrass myself any more," you say, chewing more delicately.

She laughs softly. "There's no need to apologize. You're funny, y/n," Bada says, the sincerity of her words and the fondness in her tone making heat rise to your cheeks. 

You eat the rest of your food quietly, listening to the bustling noise around you, the sound of Bada's utensils clinking against her plate unusually relaxing.

As you're finishing your last bits of pasta, a group of loud voices and giggles pass by your table. One of the girls, a brunette, notices the two of you and stops.

"Oh, my god," you hear the girl not-so-discreetly whisper, clutching her friends' arms. "Is that who I think it is?"

You glance at Bada, and she's looking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

"Bada Lee and...I don't know who that is? Who is that?" The brunette's friend replies.

You look down, pretending not to hear the conversation.

"I don't know either. You think that's her girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?! No way. They're probably just hanging out or something."

At this, Bada drops her fork and reaches across the table for your hand, grabbing it gently.

"You okay, baby?" Bada asks, her tone sugary sweet.

You're taken aback by the pet name. But, you decide to play along. You smile at her, placing your other hand over hers. "I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little tired."

"Do you wanna leave, honey?"

"I think I'll be fine," you grin.

"If you're sure," Bada smiles, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I'm positive, honey bunch," you affirm, biting onto your bottom lip to contain your laughter. 

"Aw, they're cute!" the brunette sighs. "I've gotta tell Sooyoung about this."

"Yeah, we should leave them alone, though. Let's go."

You and Bada watch the pair walk away. As soon as the women are out of sight, the two of you burst into laughter, dropping the facade.

"Did you see their faces?" Bada giggles.

"'Who is that?'" you imitate, your voice high pitched and nasal.

"Baby," Bada says, smirking. 

You laugh, but the endearment sends butterflies to your stomach. "Sweetie."

"Honey bunch," Bada grins.

"Honey bunny," you fire back.

"My love," she replies, tilting her head with a smirk, her voice playful. 

"Lovebug," you answer, raising an eyebrow.

"Is this foreplay?" she jokes, laughing. 

"I mean, if you want it to be, I'm not stopping you," you say, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself. Bada's eyes shoot up, and you feel slightly mortified and shocked by your own brazenness. 

"Do you mean that?" Bada asks, her voice dropping down an octave.

You open your mouth, then shut it. This is odd. You were regretting your lack of filter at first, but Bada seemed a bit too intrigued by the idea of consensual foreplay with you. She could just be joking, or really committing to the fake-dating bit. The look in her eyes was telling you otherwise, though.

However, you're cut off by the waiter reappearing. "May I interest you in dessert, or shall I bring the check?" he asks.

"Just the check, please," she says, not breaking eye contact with you.

The waiter bows, leaving the table once more.

You opt to stare down at the table. "I'll pay half," you offer, avoiding her earlier question.

"It's on me," Bada says. "I brought you here."

"Thank you."

"It's no problem," she says, a small smile on her lips.

Once the waiter comes back, Bada gives him her card. When he returns to your table with the receipt, Bada locks eyes with you, your heart thumping loudly.

"Let's get out of here," Bada says, and you nod.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You stand at the entrance of the restaurant, a gentle breeze caressing your face. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your coat, and the chilly air nips at the tip of your nose.

"Are you ready?" Bada asks from behind you. You turn around to look at her, and the way her eyes reflect the light of the streetlamps above you causes your chest to tighten.

"Ready," you confirm, a hint of a smile on your face.

"Alright," Bada says, shoving her phone, which you don't remember seeing her pull out, into her coat pocket. She leads you to her car, opening the passenger seat door for you.

"Thanks," you smile, and she responds with a nod. 

After the door is closed, she goes around to the driver's seat, starting the engine and driving out of the parking lot. You're both silent as she navigates through the streets. You peer out the window, watching the city lights flicker and blur as you replay tonight's events, attempting to ignore the now obvious tension. 

"So," Bada breaks the silence, causing you to whip your head toward her. "You still haven't fully explained to me what plans you have in mind for that camera you're wanting so badly."

"Well," you begin, relieved that she took the conversation in this direction. "I love what I do at JustJerk. Seriously, watching you guys dance is amazing, and the people are the best. But, I don't want my career to end there. I want to do more on top of that, diversify my portfolio and all. What I really want to do is get onto a music video set. Maybe start directing, too. One day."

Bada hums and smiles. "That's amazing."

"Thanks," you grin, scratching the back of your neck.

"With all due respect, though, do you really need the new equipment for that? You do such a good job with our choreography videos. I don't know anything about videography, but I'd be surprised if that alone couldn't get your foot in the door."

"Well," you draw out, considering your words. "That's probably true. But, I don't think I'm that lucky. The equipment will help, the camera will be useful...the lenses will be nice to have…”

Bada frowns. "Have you given it a shot yet, though? As much as I'm going to try my hardest to help you win this money, realistically, there's a good chance that we still won't win. I'd hate to see you postpone your dreams just because of this camera, or because of this project."

You pause, staring at the car's interior, listening to the sound of the engine running, lost in thought. You weren't sure if it was because you admired Bada so much, or if it was something about her tone, but you were actually starting to rethink things. Perhaps you were holding yourself back a bit. 

"Maybe," you simply respond, unable to say much else. 

"I mean, the equipment will probably help," Bada concedes. "But, not having it won't stop you, I'm sure. Our videographers really don't get enough credit. But, you're all great and you're especially amazing at what you do, y/n. The only reason why I haven't gotten around to working with you is because the other dancers keep getting to you first," she admits, bitterly. 

"Wow," you breathe. "Thank you."

"Of course. You're awesome," she says, the confidence in her words filling your heart.

"So are you," you say, turning away from her, trying not to blush.

"I know. You’ve said it already," Bada smirks, and you simply roll your eyes. 

A more comfortable silence envelops the two of you, and the tension from before dissipates. You lean back in the passenger seat, a smile on your face, feeling content.

Soon, Bada pulls up outside of your apartment, and you're disappointed. 

"This is you," Bada announces.

"Yep," you nod.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," she says, smiling.

"Me too," you reply with a matching smile. "Thank you for dinner."

"It was no problem," she states, waving her hand.

You step outside, but, before closing the car door, you hesitate. "Um," you say, unsure.

"What is it?" Bada asks, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Can I give you a hug?" you blurt out.

Bada looks startled, but her expression softens. "Sure," she nods, turning the engine off and stepping outside.

You meet her on the sidewalk, and pull her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her torso and pressing your cheek against her chest. She hugs back, and you swear that you can hear her heartbeat.

"Goodnight," Bada whispers into your hair.

"Goodnight," you echo, pulling away, already missing her warmth.

She opens the car door again, ducking inside. "Text me when you get upstairs," she instructs.

"I will," you promise.

"Great. Goodnight, y/n," she smiles.

"Goodnight, Bada," you reply, watching her drive away. Once her car disappears, you sigh.

As you trudge up the stairs to your apartment, a single question repeats in your mind: What the fuck am I doing?

You finish cleaning up and getting ready for bed approximately two hours later. As you lay in bed, scrolling through social media, a post from a JustJerk fanpage catches your eye. It's a picture of Bada and you together at dinner, with the caption, "Caught on a date?!"

You laugh at the predictability of the situation, and just as you're about to turn off your phone, you think to check Bada's Instagram, curious. She posted a new story.

You tap it, and it's a picture of you, taken from behind, standing outside the restaurant. There are no words attached to the picture. Just one, pink heart.

You smile, saving the picture, and fall asleep with the image burned into your mind.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Three days later, you are stationed near your camera, watching Bada teach. The day after your fake dinner date, she sent you a text describing the next stage of the plan, which was attending each other's events and collaborating in public whenever it seemed right. This initially felt like an excellent idea. You'd been dying to watch and record one of Bada's classes since you started working at JustJerk, and it brought you guys one step closer to convincing everyone you were seriously dating. What could go wrong?

The actual execution of this idea turned out to be much more distressing than you previously imagined. It started this morning when you were filming Minho's class. You kneeled in the front of the room, prepping your camera as Minho made rounds around the studio to talk to his students individually. Engrossed with your equipment, you didn't hear the sounds of the door opening and closing, or the following eruption of loud murmuring. It was not until you saw a pair of sneakers stop in front of you and caught a whiff of a now-familiar sweet aroma, that you bothered to glance up. When you did, you found yourself making eye contact with Bada, holding a bouquet.

"These are for you," Bada said, a proud smile on her face. 

Your jaw dropped and you scrambled to get up, almost knocking the camera over. They were roses, vibrant and beautiful against the dull gray of the dance studio. No one had done this for you before. 

"They're gorgeous," you whispered, accepting the flowers.

"I'm glad you think so," she replied, her smile deepening as she observed your reaction. You cradled the bouquet in your hands, inhaling the smell of the roses with a pleased hum and missing the endeared expression on Bada's face. You certainly didn’t see the way she started to lean forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Shocked, you loosened your grip on the bouquet, feeling nothing but the rush of warmth spread through every inch of you as a result of her tiny peck. 

She shifted back, as relaxed as ever. "I gotta go, but I'll see you later?" 

"Definitely," you nod, clutching the bouquet once again, head spinning.

"Great." She nodded, then made her way out of the studio.

After she left, you turned to face the room, only to be met with everyone’s staring. Right. That is what this is about. Getting attention. Nothing else. 

You glanced at Minho, who had a teasing smirk on his face.

"What?" you asked him, scowling. 

"Nothing," he laughed, then restarted his class. 

Now you are recording Bada's class. Or at least, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing. But, having to observe her so confidently lead her students through a routine, hearing her call out corrections with a simultaneously gentle yet demanding tone, noticing how hard her abs are when she lifts her shirt to wipe the sweat from her brow for the last hour? It's been painful. You're so busy trying not to swoon you've nearly forgotten to press record a couple of times.

She suddenly looks at you, flashing a small smile at you accompanied by crinkling eyes. You give her a thumbs-up and quickly shift your gaze toward the camera as if you were busy setting the frame, even though the shot is already perfect.

Bada returns her focus to the class, and the lesson continues. Every once in a while, Bada walks over to you, checking in and asking how everything is going. Each time, she offers a smile, a wink, or some form of encouragement, and every time, it takes everything in your power not to blush. She's clearly playing it up for the audience, but the effect she has on you is no act.

Her students are buying it, though. The moment she gets near you, the girls (and a few guys) start whispering amongst themselves. It's working.

"Alright," Bada claps, signaling the end of the session. "That's it for today. Good job, everybody."

"Thank you, teacher!" they all exclaim, bowing and gathering their things.

You're packing up your camera when you feel a pair of hands grasp your waist. Startled, you drop your tripod.

"Gotcha," Bada giggles.

"Shit, that scared me," you say, placing a hand on your heart.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughs. "How'd the recording go?"

"Pretty good," you say, bending down to pick up the tripod. Bada immediately crouches, beating you to it. "Thank you."

"No problem" she says, straightening up, extending the tripod towards you.

"Thanks," you say again, taking the device from her. "Anyway, you did good. It's not going to need much editing."

"Really?" Bada smiles. "Thank you. That means a lot, actually."

"It’s no problem," you grin, suppressing the fluttering in your stomach. "And, uh, thanks again for the flowers, by the way. They were beautiful."

“You are very welcome. Just fulfilling my fake-girlfriend duties," Bada beams, and you have to look away.

"Well, anyway, I should probably head home," you say, avoiding eye contact. "Gotta get started on the footage."

She tilts her head. "Uh, I don’t think so. That’s gonna have to wait for tomorrow,” 

"Huh? Why?" you ask, confused.

"Because, y/n, we're going bowling with Youngj and them? Don't tell me you forgot," she chides, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," you say, remembering. "I thought that was supposed to be later."

"It's 7:30," she says, a slight frown on her face.

"Fuck," you curse, running a hand through your hair. "Sorry, I'll get out of here."

"We have to go there together," Bada reminds you.

"Shit. Okay, yeah, let's go," you sigh.

"Are you okay?" she asks, concern etched onto her features.

"Yes. No. Ugh. Sorry, I just had a lot on my mind today. Didn't get much sleep," you say, rubbing your eyes. It wasn’t a complete lie. Ever since your date at the restaurant, you’ve been getting bombarded with messages from friends asking about the two of you, giving you little time to rest alongside your work for Justjerk. There was more going on today, though. 

"That sucks," Bada sympathizes. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," you answer, bluntly.

"Okay," she says, softly. "But, if and when you do, I’m all ears."

"Thanks, Bada. I appreciate it," you reply, and a part of you is telling yourself not to get attached. But the bigger part of you, the part that wants nothing more than to fall into her arms, tells that smaller part to fuck off.

"Of course. Anyway, we should really get going," she says, and you follow her out the door, leaving your thoughts and feelings behind.

read part two

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XV)

Chapter 15: ‘He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets in water?’

Hi! Here is new chapter! New Year’s Eve is upon us… let’s see what happens!! ;)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3646

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The Edge

Time and again, time and again I tie My heart to that headboard While my quilted cries Harden against his hand. He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets In water? Over Mother’s lace I watch his drive into the gored Roasts, deal slivers in his mercy… I can feel his thighs Against me for the children’s sakes. Reward? Mornings, crippled with this house, I see him toast his toast and test His coffee, hedgingly. The waste’s my breakfast.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

The plan was simple.

Or rather… it wasn’t simple, per say, but it was feasible. Which, considering that you were attempting to make your ex fall in love with you again after he dumped you to get engaged to another woman… was already quite an achievement.

You looked at Andrew as he stood next to you. He had arrived late, had apologised profusely. You were annoyed, but you reckoned that you would have to grow used to this detail about him. He simply was always late to everything, it seemed.

He was wearing contacts today, instead of his glasses. You had noticed that he did whenever he would see Sam, probably because she preferred him without his dark brown spectacles. And he did look handsome tonight, dressed in all black, from suit to shirt and leathered shoes, with his hair tied in a bun, but still… you missed the softness that came with seeing him in glasses. You didn’t know why you felt like that. Perhaps it was because you were so used by now to see him almost every day wearing them, may it be at work or when you planned actions related to your exes, or when you simply spent time together. Maybe it was the familiarity that had grown with this sight that you missed now. Perhaps you just found him even more handsome with glasses…

You pushed the thought away, looked for Frank through the crowd. Frank and Sam were hosting, in the flat they had moved into about a month before. And it ached to see pictures of the two of them sprayed on the fridge in the kitchen. Your collection of books was gone, leaving shelves empty in the living room but for pieces of decoration and more pictures of the happy couple that tore your heart apart. There was music playing, some playlist found on Spotify, without a doubt, music you would find in a club, a music meant to party. You saw Andrew staring at the empty shelves as well, at the absence of records too; you saw his small frown as he spotted the laptop that was the source of the music. You guessed he thought the quality was terrible, but then again, you guessed he didn’t like the music in itself very much either. You imagined Frank sitting in a room to listen to old jazz records, the way you knew Andrew did sometimes, he had told you so much himself. You couldn’t picture it…

But then you looked at the pictures more carefully, and couldn’t imagine yourself in them either. They seemed to have been everywhere together. Rafting, climbing, swimming, jumping, sky-diving even… there was no museum, no cityscape, no quiet woods, no sunset over a beach. There was adventure, and thrill, more so than you could ever handle.

Was that what Frank wanted? What you couldn’t offer? Did you need to become adventurous to keep him?

Would you ever be happy if you became an explorer instead of an academic?

Were you not an explorer already anyway? You had travelled to other cities, to other countries, had moved to places where you knew no one to settle and work. You learned every day, you grew, you tried to keep your head above the water. And you went on walks in nature, you swam into the sea, you made friends and lost some along the way. Was it not enough? Did it not take enough courage already to simply live your life?

“Are you ready?”

You turned to Andrew, your partner in crime for the night. You had to move the bottles of champagne around so Andrew could find them and save the day. And then he would shine by remembering Sam didn’t like champagne…

You nodded, moving towards the kitchen.

“How do we get everybody out?”

“I can handle that,” you assured him with a mischievous wink and smile.

Indeed, there were only men in the kitchen at that moment, gathering ammunition in the form of drinks and shots for the night.

Easy peasy…

“I mean… I do believe the dress is a little much,” you told Andrew loudly enough for all four men present in the kitchen to discreetly eavesdrop on the conversation.

Andrew blinked, but played along the best he could, although you noticed the way he was shying away as a couple of men turned to the two of you without trying to be discreet. He blushed, bent his shoulders to seem smaller than he truly was.

“Really?”

“I mean… Andy… you can see her full tits at this point…”

You saw the four men exchanging glances, and hurrying outside the kitchen.

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Was that really that easy?” he asked out loud.

“Men…” was your only response, along with a roll of your eyes.

Andrew chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Are we truly that shallow?”

“Most of the time!”

You hurried to close the door, and you and Andrew hid the bottles in a cupboard, getting them out of the fridge. You were so scared of being caught that you were going too fast, almost dropping a bottle, but catching it right before it would hit the ground.

“Calm down, we’re good,” Andrew spoke in a whisper, although he kept on glancing towards the door.

“There’s no lock on that door! Anyone can come in at any moment!”

“We won’t get caught.”

“And if we are?”

“Then we’ll say it was a joke.”

“It will be so bad…”

“We won’t get caught.”

But then there were footsteps in the hallway. Two bottles left in the fridge. Andrew and you exchanged a terrified glance.

“Shit!” you both cursed at the same time, grabbing the bottles in a hurry, pushing them in the cupboard and slamming the door.

The handle moved…

Your reflex was to get closer to Andrew, to grab his hand and hold tight. He didn’t push you away, merely gasped, although you weren’t sure whether it was because of the door now beginning to open or because you were now so close to him you were basically pressed to his chest…

“Why the fuck is this door clos…”

Some people you didn’t know opened the door then, stared at you and Andrew first in surprise, and then they refrained a laugh…

You looked up at Andrew, who was staring with wide eyes at the door. You seemed only then to notice your proximity, the way you literally held onto him.

You gasped, took a couple of steps back, until your back bumped into the fridge. A hand appeared out of nowhere to slip between your head and the piece of furniture.

“You’re alright?” Andrew asked in a weak voice, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing and still high on adrenaline from your stupid plan. You nodded, moved away from him, from his palm that still cradled the back of your head…

“Fine, fine… we should…”

You hurried out of the room, away from Andrew and the brown that stained the green of his eyes, and the specks of red in his beard, and the angle of his jaw, and the softness of his touch against your hair and…

You were interrupted in your busy thoughts by Frank’s voice coming from behind you.

“Y/N! Andrew! I’m so glad you could both come!”

You spun around, noticing only then that you were back in the living room, Andrew following suit.

“Thanks for inviting us! Great party!” you complimented.

It was hard at first to regulate your breathing, to hide that your heart was beating at a thousand miles a minute. After all, you had almost been caught, and then… these people would think that you and Andrew had locked yourselves in the kitchen to… Oh, God… if Sam and Frank learned about this, all your efforts would go to waste…

“Argh! Thanks! Trying my best as a host!”

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far. I think it’s better to have this party here, rather than in a club.”

You regretted your words as soon as they passed your lips, knew you had made a mistake.

“We couldn’t book the place we wanted, had to settle on doing this at home instead,” Frank answered with disappointment apparent in his eyes and tone.

“It’s still very nice,” Andrew politely smiled.

“Well, I should get the champagne ready, it’ll soon be midnight!”

You and Andrew exchanged a look as your ex moved away from the crowd again, aiming his steps towards the kitchen.

“Phase one…” Andrew gave you a wink; you chose to ignore your heart’s response to his gesture.

“Time to save this party, Andy,” you teased, and he gave you a thumbs up that was so adorable, you had to blink.

Perfect plan.

Indeed, the look on Frank’s face when he discovered that the bottles had been misplaced was priceless. He called Sam for help, they looked for the bottles, didn’t find even a trace of them.

Andrew opened the right cupboard, the one where you had placed the bottles earlier, and called for Sam to show that the champagne was there.

“Oh! God! Thank you, Andy!”

He was granted a warm hug, one that made him close his eyes for a second, you noticed the relief that was written all over his features at the physical contact. He blushed as she kissed his cheek, and he was beaming when she pulled away. He gave her his bottle of prosecco, instead of waiting for midnight as it was planned, he simply couldn’t wait. She blinked up at him, gave him a warm, grateful smile.

“You always remember that,” she whispered under her breath, but you heard her words still. Frank heard them too, and you saw him glaring at Andrew.

It was working. Your crazy plan was working. Sam was still gravitating around Andrew, they were smiling. There was a pinching feeling tugging at your heart, and you ignored it. Jealousy was such an ugly feeling. And anyway, you couldn’t be jealous over Andrew effectively getting closer to Sam again, his success would be shared soon, as you hoped your plan would work for Frank and you as well. It would. You would have success, just like Andrew… that was why you were a little jealous, surely, after all…

Only, it didn’t work. It didn’t work, because instead of you pouring your glass over Sam, Sam accidentally poured her glass onto you.

You weren’t sure how it all happened. You were looking away from Andrew and Sam, staring at Frank who was laughing and joking with a friend nearby, being a perfect host. And all of a sudden, you felt something cool sipping under the fabric of your dress, turned to see Sam apologising.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy, I… I didn’t you see you there…”

You looked down at the damage, she offered to lend you some clothes immediately. You noticed how Frank’s gaze softened at her words. And you hated it. You hated her. You hated him. You hated this party and the coming of a new year and the beginnings it announced. You didn’t need a new beginning, you needed the continuation of what you used to have. And this party, this awful party where you barely knew anyone, and you weren’t having fun at all, and…

“No, don’t worry. I’m fine. I… Actually, I don’t feel very well, I think I’m gonna go home.”

You saw Andrew’s frown, the one that formed at your words.

“Already? I’m sure we can fix this!” Frank argued, and you almost yielded.

“I’m not sure we’re the same size…” Sam mumbled.

When you looked into her eyes, you knew she had done it on purpose. You knew she had poured her drink over you deliberately, perhaps because of the way you looked at Frank, or perhaps because you had come with Andrew. You didn’t know why. What was for certain was that she had ruined your dress to make you go home, and you weren’t stupid, you knew what it meant, and you weren’t up for a fight, not when Frank looked at her like that, with love…

“You could still try some of Sam’s clothes on! I’m sure we can find something,” Frank argued, trying to hold you back.

You slowly shook your head.

“I have some clothes in my car, you could change,” Andrew offered, his gaze pleading now.

You noticed how he flinched when your eyes met his.

“It’s okay. I feel a little sick anyway. I think I’ll go home.”

Frank grabbed your arm as you took a step towards the door.

“Stay at least till midnight! There’s less than an hour left! You can leave after we’ve opened the champagne, yeah?”

You wished you could have said no. But Frank’s eyes in that moment…

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you yielded, making him grin.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.”

There was such gratefulness in his gaze, something tender, almost pleading, and you fell for it, you couldn’t help it. You had fallen a thousand times over for it.

You heard Andrew heaving a sigh behind you.

You opened your mouth to speak again, but Frank was swiped away by a guest, one of your former ‘friends’, and you were left staring at the blank space he had left behind.

He was moving away, leaving you behind…

Andrew and Sam were talking, you stared as she clung onto him for a rather long time. Andrew kept on nodding, let her do most of the talking. You didn’t notice the glances he threw your way, you were too busy looking for Frank again.

You checked the time after a long while spent doing meaningless chit-chat with strangers and people you had met a couple of times before. Ten minutes to midnight.

You looked around at the loud room. Conversations, exclamations, laughter, loud music that banged in your head, hitting your skull with the heavy kick of drums. Light, glitter, colours, beautiful dresses. Frank talking with some of his colleagues he had invited, paying no attention to you. Andrew talking with Sam and smiling sweetly at her.

You looked down at your glass, a drink half-empty already, studied the stain that spread across the fabric of your dress. You had felt beautiful while getting ready. You didn’t anymore…

You could have been with your real friends, with your family… what were you doing here, during those last minutes of a dying year?

You didn’t say a word to anyone as you put your glass down on the nearest table, made your way through the crowd, grabbed your coat in the closet by the door. No one noticed you leaving anyway. Frank didn’t spare you a glance. You were leaving, and no one noticed, because no one fucking cared…

“Y/N?”

You froze, a few steps away from the elevator, your hand already rising towards the button to call for an escape.

Slowly, you turned around.

Andrew was standing in front of the door to Frank’s and Sam’s apartment. On the threshold, standing still, he was staring at you with a questioning stare.

“Where are you going? You’re alright?”

You were too stunned to answer, remained frozen, like a deer caught in headlights, your finger still erect towards the elevator…

No one had noticed you leaving, no one…

Someone did…

“Y/N? You’re okay? Are you really sick?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m just… I just want to go home. I just… I need some fresh air.”

“What’s wrong?”

You shrugged, did a terrible job at hiding your tears.

He held a finger up.

“Give me a minute. Just one minute. Don’t leave without me!”

“Andy…”

“One minute!”

He looked at you with something expectant in his eyes, almost begging…

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

He grinned, the brightest smile you had seen on his features throughout the entire night.

He disappeared into the flat again, you waited for him for a minute, and then another, hoping he would come back, hoping he wouldn’t leave you behind, hoping Andy wouldn’t leave…

But then the door was opening again, he was stepping outside while putting on his coat. He had a couple of plastic cups in his hand along with a half-full bottle of champagne.

“You should stay,” you told him, speaking in a jolt, making Andrew freeze before he would reach you.

He blinked, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You… you don’t want to talk to me?” he asked, looking down at his feet before you could answer. “I can just listen… I can be quiet if I’m boring…”

You frowned at him, taken aback by his answer.

“What are you talking about? You’re never boring, what…?”

He looked up at you again, blinking, trying to gauge your reaction.

You heaved a tired sigh.

“I just meant… that Sam was spending quality time with you, you… it was working for you tonight. You should stay, use that chance to talk to her and make her see the truth. Besides, it’s…” you looked down at your watch. “Two minutes to midnight. Don’t you want to be with the people you love most for the final countdown? Don’t you want to enter the new year with Sam?”

You saw Andrew blinking, but couldn’t read through his expression. It wasn’t blank, nor emotionless, but it remained unreadable.

Slowly, he walked over to you. He raised his hand, called for the lift without saying a word.

You stared at him with tears in your eyes.

The doors opened with a ding, you didn’t move, didn’t even flinch at the sound. Andrew stepped inside, caught your soul as he looked into your eyes when he turned to you.

“Aren’t you coming?”

You followed him.

Not a word was spoken as the doors closed, as the cabin went down the shaft, as it stopped with a gentle shaking of its cables. You stepped onto the freezing street in silence, looked at Dublin empty in this quiet neighbourhood. There were lights at every window though, some of them were open on laughter and joy and loud shouts and music that flooded into the quiet night. Far away, you could hear the whisper of traffic and honking cars, making noise while awaiting a beginning.

Andrew poured you a drink while the seconds ticked away, fluttering and fainting into the past. A past that lingered in your present still. Would it always be there, haunting the seconds to come, and the minutes they would build, and the hours, and the days, and the years?

Andrew handed you a glass, put down the bottle by his feet. You were standing under a tall oak tree, planted there in the middle of the city, a square of fertile soil in the void of manmade roads. Andrew stared at a flower that grew there, at the foot of a lamppost, just a weed growing despite the concrete.

He looked up with a tender smile on his face, raised his glass.

“Sláinte,” his voice rose above the first number of the countdown.

“Sláinte,” you answered with a smile of your own, a gesture that started shy but that grew stronger the longer you looked up at him, at the brown that stained the green of his eyes, and the specks of red in his beard, and the angle of his jaw, and the softness of his touch as his palm rose to cradle your face.

Five!

The shouts echoed from everywhere around you, deafening even if they were quietened by windowpanes. You heard the quiet gasp Andrew took before downing his whole glass, and you did the same. Your gaze met the stars that hung up there, on the firmament, for a moment, while your head was tilted back to drink the last bit of the cold buzz in your cup, to gather the tingling of bubbles on your tongue. They looked distant and cold, reassuring somehow. They were always there, always shining, even after they had died. The image you saw was millions, maybe billions of years old. The past was even up there, in the sky. And yet the moon shone for a new night.

Four!

You giggled as you swallowed, looking at Andrew again. And he did too, his cheeks flushed by alcohol, by the cold too. The tip of his nose had reddened as well. The lamplight was golden on his eyelashes.

Three!

“Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” you asked out of the blue, blaming the liquor you had been steadily drinking throughout the evening for the incoherence of your words. “I thought you liked them better than contacts.”

Two!

“Sam prefers when I wear contacts.”

You reached up to touch his cheekbones, to let your fingertips graze over the soft skin, along the sharpness left by the bone under it. He closed his eyes, gasped when you brushed his eyelids and lashes.

One!

“I think you should wear whatever you like. Although… I love your eyes. And you look soft with your glasses on. It makes me feel safe.”

He opened his eyes again, stared at you as your hands moved down to rest on the edge of his jaw, pinkie fingers barely skimming over his neck.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Andrew leaned down to press his lips to your forehead. You closed your eyes under the warmth of his skin, the softness of his lips, the roughness of his beard…

You felt dizzy as he kissed you, staying against your skin for too long, pulling away too slowly. You wished he hadn’t stopped…

He gave you a tender smile as he looked into your eyes again.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.”

You smiled, grinned even. You reached up, going on your tiptoes to drop a long, tender kiss on his cheek. It landed by the corner of his mouth.

“Happy New Year, Andy.”

[isackwhy]

Perhaps…hc of tgc boys doing fem!readers hair?? (Separate)

i stopped crying when i got this ask and my brain didn’t overload so i think that means i have to do this. also dk if u meant platonic or not so i did a mix of both

TGC BOYS DOING FEM! READER’S HAIR HC’S

isaacwhy

very gentle

i feel like he has a good concept of how to braid hair so he mindlessly does it sometimes and is proud of himself

will put ur hair in a ponytail or bun if ur intoxicated or just simply don’t have the hands to do it urself

will sometimes just be like “y/n, c’mere i wanna do ur hair”

the guys think it’s cute (platonic or not)

you’ll send him pinterest photos of hairdos and then next thing u know you’re both giggling as he attempts to copy the look

softwilly

truly tries his hardest

has borderline no idea what he’s doing

will accidentally tug ur hair and ur met w a list of sorry’s or kisses if y’all are together

when u ask for help he gets scared bc he doesn’t wanna hurt u LMAO

“y/n, can i try and braid your hair? i watched some tik toks on it.”

u decide to trust him

ur hair ends up in knots the first time

he’s good at brushing it tho let him brush ur hair 👍🏻

bigt

his sisters def tried to do his hair a few times

and he’s probably watched them do their hair

and his moms a hairdresser

he’s got a good concept of what to do

so very gentle like more gentle than isaac

u let him put like cute hair clips in one time after he braided ur hair and he was so proud of himself

if ur too tired or brain being shit he will brush ur hair and it will come out good

also does silly shit w ur hair

like he’ll make 2 braids and then try and wrap them around ur head

u just sit there like ?????

the rare times he accidentally yanks too hard he panics

“SORRY. SORRY. DO U WANT ME TO STOP? I ZONED OUT—“

larrycroft

he has long hair himself so he knows what’s he’s doing

you’ll wake up w ur hair done sometimes and are like HUHHH

he’s just all smiles

u both braid each others hair

gives u those goofy ass buns that sit right on top of ur head and takes a million .5 photos

u guys share hair ties and clips all the time

yumi

i’m gonna be honest to not let him near ur hair it will end up a mess

but he tries okay

brushes as gently as possible but gets annoyed and will accidentally tug and now his brush privileges are taken away

subconsciously braided ur hair one night

u tried to take it out and u were like looking ur mind

“okay, well, i tried to be cute—“

“my hair is in knots.”

y’all i’m going thru it rn i’m so sorry

[slowlyoats]

The Lost Boys: On an Average Night what can be Found in there Pockets?

Marko

- Bang snaps (those little hand held fireworks, that spark when you throw them on the ground)

- Rocks

- An extra earring backing, because he away seems to lose his

- A waded up piece of chewed bubble gum

- A piece of chalk

- Parking tickets (he likes to collect all the tickets he gets from parking his bike on the board walk. He’s up to 17 at the moment)

- The key to his bike

- Paul’s key too (David won’t let him hold on to it anymore since Paul has lost it a bunch of times)

- Sometimes a frog

- He just can’t help himself and likes to pick one up and take it along to the boardwalk for a little ride

Paul

- Some type of candy

- Like those little pixie sticks

- Or pop rocks or smarties

- He likes to have extra to share with Laddie

- Tickets from the carnival games

- He’s trying save up for something nice, but he keeps losing his tickets :/

- Pocket change

- He NEVER has actual money on him and always has to ask one of the boys to spot him

- He can’t help it he’s a material girl!

Dwayne

- His wallet

- money

- This man has the cash

- A membership card to a local mechanic shop

- A reward card for the local candy store (Paul and Laddie have spent a LOT of change in there so they are one stamp away from a free pound of fudge)

- Hair ties

- Laddie loves his long hair, but he can get frustrated after a long night of it falling in his face

- So Dwayne will either pull it back in a bun or pony tail for him

- If he has the time, and can get Laddie to sit still long enough, he will braid Laddie’s hair

David

- A spare key to Max’s house that Max gave him for emergencies

- A rewards card to Max’s video store

- A little note book and little pencil

- He likes to keep track of how much money the boys have in it

- He also will write down numbers that he finds in bathroom stalls

- Marko calls that list of numbers the “room service menu”

- When they are lazy and don’t want to leave the cave, David will “call for room service” and within 30 mins or so they will have a tasty meal

- The boys definitely confuse and traumatize the person who arrives by shouting “room service is here!!” and “order up!”

- Poor guy didn’t stand a chance

- And when the person finally realizes that the vibes are HELLA off it’s too late

Boardwalk rando: look man, I didn’t sign up for this! I was just looking for a good time!

Paul: this is a good time! Just not a long one for you…

[dira333]

The Cat and the Human - Kenma Kozume x Reader

I will never willingly admit that Kenma's my favorite even though everyone knows I really really really really really really really really really love him... So.... have this fun piece instead. Also, @notsochillnerd this is kind of an excerpt of "Young Love" that I came up with today. Have fun with it knowing what you do.

“The story goes like this:  The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them.

You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key. 

Plot twist: The woman is a shapeshifter. She is the cat.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kenma asks, engrossed in his hand-held game. He’s taken his perch in the comfy chair next to the Couch you’re lying on, his seating position weird enough to give everyone back cramps but him.

“I thought it was obvious,” you say, pick up your book again, and continue reading.

It’s a good book, really. One you’ve been trying to finish for weeks now.

It’s just a little hard to focus when Kenma’s sitting there, perfectly disheveled hair falling into his eyes, the gold in his hair glinting in the sunlight.

But you prevail, your eyes returning to the page.

And it gets easier, a little bit at least, to get sucked into the narrative.

Only to be pulled out of it quite harshly.

“Want to cuddle?” Kenma asks, pointy knees digging into your side as he climbs onto you without waiting for an answer.

“Do I have a choice?” 

“No.”

-

Kenma is like a cat.

It’s a common inside joke by now, one that’s already a little grey around the edges, but he keeps it alive with all his adorable quirks.

Kenma hates water - do not take him swimming - and he’s usually more active during the night. He can sleep for hours on end, his body seemingly consisting of nothing but liquid, curled into the oddest shapes.

More than once you checked his pulse because you thought he fell down the stairs and died only to find out he just couldn’t be bothered to make it to bed before snoozing off.

Those things are all old news though, commented on time and time again by his friends. 

You wonder how many of them know just how cat-like he reacts to attention.

-

It’s the way he shies away from the spotlight, hides whenever someone’s trying to get him to do something - even things he would have ordinarily liked doing - only to come out just when no one’s paying him any attention anymore.

Maybe it’s because you’ve always had a thing for cats.

You like the differences in their characters, how they can force you to abide to their consent. If a cat doesn’t want you to pet them, they’ll just bite you.

Still, you can’t help but think sometimes that Kenma chose you first.

-

“Hey,” you look up from your Laptop to see him standing in the doorway of your room, hair tied up in a messy bun and the hem of his hoodie going almost past his knees - it must be one of Kuroo’s then.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Creating a training regime for the team, why?”

“Can I stay with you? I’ve got some free time and I’m kinda bored.”

“Sure,” you nod, turn back to your screen to let him figure out where he wants to sit. So far that’s always been the best way to go about this, and you’re not that surprised when his knees soon dig into your back as he climbs into the tiny space between your back and the backrest of your chair.

“Comfy?” You ask as his head sinks heavy onto your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Time passes slowly. You move as slowly as you can, trying not to upset his balance, your heart sloshing in your chest to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Maybe it’s because you’ve always had a thing for cats.

Maybe you’ve just always been dreaming about him. 

“Do you mind spending time with me?” His voice comes out a bit muffled, but the words are clear.

“Never.”

“Why?”

“I like sending time with you.”

“How much?”

You accidentally click a wrong button and the big flashing sign asking if you really want to delete the document is screaming the truth in your face.

Kenma’s breathe ghosts ove your neck and you know, you just know, that he’s seen it all. Nothing ever goes unnoticed by him, not even your own feelings.

“A lot.”

“More than Kuroo.”

“Hm.”

“More than Akaashi?”

“Akaashi’s my cousin.”

“Still.”

You sigh. 

“Don’t tell him,” you ask, “but yeah.”

Kenma’s quiet for a while.

“More than Bokuto?” He finally asks, his voice tiny now.

“Yeah.” Your voice is barely more than a sigh, an admission of things you’ve probably always known, but never dared to be real.

And maybe you’re imagining it - though you doubt it, with how hotwired your senses are right now - but it almost feels like Kenma’s lips are moving against the back of your neck, pressing the tiniest of kisses against warm skin.

Some cats are vocal. Others show their love in a different way.

-

“How’d you get him to agree?” Hinata asks, breathless with excitement.

People stop and stare. Even without the flaming orange hair he’s breathtaking, his smile a second sun.

You’ve long grown immune to it, looking for a different sunshine in the crowd.

“That’s a secret,” you tell him off, messing up his hair like the big sister/Senpai you are to him. “Not telling.”

“I’ll just ask Kuroo for it.”

“Good luck, he wants to know too,” you pull back when you spot him, knowing full well that next to him-

“Hey,” you can barely hide the smile that’s always overtaking you at his sight.

“Hey,” Kenma sounds way less enthused, shuffling into your side. If you’d try to read his mind he’d probably be thinking “Too hot, too loud, too many people” in cycles, so you take his hand and squeeze it, a little surprised when he squeezes back.

“You owe me for this,” he reminds you before he has to leave again, playing as a setter for Hinata’s team in a charity Beach-Volleyball event.

And you do.

-

“Thank you,” you mutter into his sunkissed skin later that day, his body stretched out alongside yours, too tired to move, too tired to care, too tired to do anything other than press into you.

“We didn’t even win,” he grumbles back, never too tired to point out the obvious.

“Still,” you curl a lock of his hair around your finger, press a kiss against the underside of his chin, “I like watching you.”

“Stalker.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t pose for me,” you tease him, giggling when he squirms.

-

Kenma’s like a cat.

It’s the quiet affections that please him and the lack of attention that spurs him on.

If anyone would ask you if you feel guilty for using that against him, you’d have to say no.

After all, he knows your weaknesses just as well. And he’s not afraid of using them against you too.